What dreams there be

I must have been running fairly short on REM sleep because my nights are now packed full of dreams!  I wake up with bits of them falling away as if I just burst through a stained glass window. The pieces dissolve as they rain down.  We were riding giant green pigs across the English channel to escape the Nazi vampires.  And there was that house on the cliff with the livingroom cantelievered out and made to bounce every time you moved. Something smelled orange to the sound of ukeleles . . .  It's fading but it was so wonderful . . . vanishing, trailing away.  I want so much to slide back under and recapture those stories, but I know that if I'm dreaming about large bodies of water, it's time to go to the bathroom.

The built-in humidifier doesn't seem to be working.  I have to call them on that.  I think that's why I'm SO groggy when I get up.  Either that, or the dreams are just exhausting me.  Yesterday was glorious, sunny and warm.  I hung up my sling chair under the apple tree and lay down in it, DH, put Fly cat on my lap, and two hours later it was time to wake up and go to dinner.  The cat and I were snoozing together in the soft, warm air, with birds yelling all around us and neither of us had bothered to stir a whisker.  Any afternoon you can nap in the sun for two hours, is a freaking good day in my book.