November 28. Summer dresses.

I have returned to Whidbey Island for the winter. I have a little job moving Widgets in a warehouse which I will tell you about in tedious detail soon…. The days are growing thin up here and fade to dark early. I wake up at 4:30 in the morning and look up at the sky. On the clear mornings Venus shines so clear and bright as it hangs above the foot of my street. To get to work I ride two busses and one ferryboat. Then I spend the day moving Widgets. In order to get back home again I ride the two busses and one ferryboat back the reverse direction. My friend Alastair is a Widget mover too. He got me this Widget moving job and mentioned that this journal is getting dull as I haven’t updated it lately. So until I write all about the world of Widgets as they move their way across the ocean from China, and then all the way over to wherever it is that they are going, I’ll get Ally off my back and tell you this…

An Imaginary Lunch
(one fit for today)

Carrot soup with herbs
with little cold pancakes from the fridge
and a bit of cheese
sausages
and a bit of potato.

Just right for winter.

I dreamed last night about several things but can only really make out a couple…

Standing in a dirt parking lot that was surrounded by scrappy alder trees. In the middle of the lot was a big clump of an island outfitted in ferns and mud. Around the edge of this parking lot and island were parked cars. Then John Lennon came driving in looking for a spot. His car was this big specially built tank of a thing. Silver shiny on the outside like some old hulking RV, but on the inside it was barren and empty. There was John, a little hard to make him out through the window, but it was him. He sat there on a green seat that attached to the floor of his ride by a huge coiled spring. It was like an old milk delivery or step van. The rig though was modern on the outside and looked like some futuristic contraption for sure. It was meant to keep John safe. “Too bad it didn’t work,” I said to someone standing next to me.

The other dream that I remember from last night I’ll just keep to myself.

I have been reading “Born to Win”. It’s a book of collected writings and art by Woody Guthrie. Edited by Robert Shelton. Now out of print. Go find it. It’s worth the while.

Island. Coffee shop. Christmas lights outside the window. Wind died down. Rain let off. Dark. Cloudy. Overcast, and damp cold.

A girl in Australia just a few minutes ago typed and told me that she is wearing her summer dresses now that summer has come.

Peace Everyone.