Hello, everyone. I had another weird dream that I will share with you. I know, but it makes me feel better. I was walking across a large grassy area when my father, who passed away last year, came running up to me, holding his hand to his face. He told me he had a tooth ache, and asked me if I would mind taking him to the dentist. The fact that my dad had false teeth for the last few years of his life didn’t seem to enter into the equation. I then realized that I was also supposed to pick my mother up from work. (She hasn’t worked in years, and she and my father were divorced when I was young. I told my dad that there was a dentist just down the street – there were no streets when the dream started, I was in a grassy area, like a woods. – and that he could actually see it from here if he would turn around. He seemed happy with this and started toward the dentist. I then found my car and began the trip to pick up my mother, but I was worried that my dad would not find the dentist, and I felt guilty about leaving him. I woke up sweating.
The Coweta American, the closest local newspaper even ran an article advertising the event. Sounds great, right? It was, but… I had to acquire a shelter, one of those easy pop-up tent thing-a-ma-gigs that the box says one person can erect, but in reality takes 5 strong men and 14 boy scouts to manage. But it was fun. I sat there for 12 hours both days in temperatures that hovered around 125 degrees inside the protected area of the tent. To top that, I used one of those folding canvass chairs which left me about eye-level with the folding table I had for a desk. Have you ever tried to sell a book looking like a sweating pygmy with a bad attitude? Let me tell you, it isn’t easy. But, hey, I ended up selling 14 books and making a lot of new friends. Many of the other booth attendants stopped by and chatted with me, giving me tips on how not to set up one of those easy pop-up tent thing-a-ma-gigs, and maybe using a taller chair. It was like being a circus carnie for the day.
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