I remember Grandma Cairns reading "The Little Engine that Could."

Yesterday I posted a short story about The Little Boiling Water Reactor that Could >.  I remember my Grandma Cairns (née Bauer) reading "The Little Engine that Could" to me. I remember exactly where we sat, which side she sat on, and how she held the book. (And it happened to be under a painting that hangs in my house today.) That was when they lived on E 37th in Erie, down from St Luke, up from Saints Peter & Paul, which had an enormous playground and a swing set.

("Up" in this case is "up the hill" from 37th to 38th Street. I've written about this before. I grew up near Lake Erie; the surrounding land slopes toward the lake, so even though the lake is north and technically "up" from wherever you happen to be, it was common to hear people say "up" when referring to the grade of a street in a direction away from the lake.

And so I have a severe directional disorder to this day, never knowing which way is up. If you ask me today where "upper State Street" is in Erie, I'd probably be wrong, and there's only two choices.)

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Click to enlarge: a Doctor Cartoon by Randy Glasbergen

Grad School Dream

I had a dream in grad school (when I was studying Linguistics) that I was pushing my car up a hill; it was very difficult, but in my dream I eventually succeeded.

A psychologist friend, who was careful not to put too much stock in dreams (but did sometimes find them insightful), said it meant I subconsciously felt I would eventually succeed in my studies.

I've psychoanalyzed my own dreams for years and can sometimes adjust anxieties in this way. Dreams don't predict the future or commune with the spirit world (so far as I know), but they do reveal issues we are not consciously addressing.

How's that make you feel?

     Like a cigar.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

     Even my delusions are unremarkable.

[2013-08-19]

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