I’m thankful I can remember my dreams again. The images from last night/this morning:
Two grand pianos, one in the living space and one staged in the garage waiting to be moved in. Where is my original Story and Clark console, the one with the patina? Does it have to go? My wise friend Pat says, “Let me tell you something about that.”
Another scene: Cheery Liz, from long ago, is planning a Christmas party and covets our tiny artificial Christmas tree, the one with tiny white lights. She wants it for a table centerpiece. “Sure! You may have it!” I’m thinking, Christmas is over, and I can’t see it for the grand piano anyway.
Then: my friend Pi‘i in her yellow Mustang convertible, top down, is navigating a waterway that looks like a calm stream flowing under a bridge to see me. I throw her a mooring line. It’s not long enough. I go for an extension. The knot will be underwater, but I know how to tie the knot so it holds fast.
Okay, dream interpreters, what does it mean? As my friend Anne-Marie says to dear readers, Go!
Rebekah’s Studio 
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