As usual, the only significance of this dream was the level of detail and how much I remembered.
I was at my dad's house, a white clapboard bungalow with a detached single car garage in back. He had some kind of work surface, just an old board maybe two feet by three that had a piece of Formica on it. The Formica was held on by a single stove bolt in one corner, and it had come loose. The screw goes in through the Formica and comes out in a slot cut in the end of the board. The board has been around, the opening to the slot is well chewed. Getting the nut onto the end of the screw is no problem and it tightens up okay, except for that last little bit. It just won't snug up. I need a wrench, so I ask my Dad. He gets a screwdriver (I was using the screwdriver blade in my pocketknife) and a wrench. He puts the screw between his teeth in the side of his mouth and applies the wrench to the nut in the slot in the board. I apply the screwdriver to the screw he's holding in his teeth. Everything goes well until we get to that same point I was at before. There must be a burr or something on the screw and it is going to take some torque to get past it. I put my other hand on the screwdriver blade near Dad's mouth so that if it slips off the screw I won't jam the screwdriver all the way through his mouth. (Yes, I know, it doesn't make any sense. It was a dream. What do you expect?)
Now my mom shows up. She's going out and I ask her how long she is going to be gone. As usual I cannot get a straight answer from her. It's going to be few minutes, a couple of hours, five or six hours, what difference does it make? It makes a difference to me, I want to know whether I should wait, or whether I should just go now.
Don't you just love Looney Tunes?
Silicon Forest
If the type is too small, Ctrl+ is your friend
Saturday, June 26, 2010
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