Five O'Clock Somewhere

Welcome to Five O'Clock Somewhere, where it doesn't matter what time zone you're in; it's five o'clock somewhere. We'll look at rural life, especially as it happens in Rio Arriba County, New Mexico, cats, sailing (particularly Etchells racing yachts), and bits of grammar and Victorian poetry.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

A very strange dream

Yeah, I’ve been accused of believing Zorro walks on water, but …

I had a dream. In this dream, I was sailing around in a small marina that had only a few boats in it. It wasn’t at Heron, since this marina had a large mooring field outside it that had a goodly number of boats in it. And it wasn’t at Elephant Butte, because the terrain near the marina was greener and had trees. The sky was overcast, and the water was relatively calm.

As I sailed out of the marina, I saw Zorro sitting in the mooring field. Yes, that’s right, he was sitting there, no boat, just sitting cross-legged on top of the water. He threw something toward me that I thought was a spit-wad. And then he threw something else, a ping-pong ball that bounced off one of the few boats in the marina and then over my head. And then he kept throwing ping-pong balls.

No, I’m not going to even try to figure out what it means.

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