Pipe Dreams

Angela inspired this, even though she might not want to admit it. Before I crawl through the duct that leads to my bedroom, I like to stand for a moment, ears akimbo, outside the closet door in the hallway just below the stairs. If I listen very carefully, I can almost hear the sound of baking bread. This is what dreams are made of. At least mine are. Yours might be made of something else, like masking tape, or old shoes.

But my dreams are made of bread, and they always arrive piping hot. I think that's because they travel through the same pipes that carry steam from the boiler downstairs. Otherwise they would be cold.

 

21 comments:

  1. ahg, who gave you th3 monopoly on dough dreams?

    mine smell of feet.

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  2. I think it was the Little Doughboy, or maybe Gozer. Hard to remember those dream-names sometimes.

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  3. I stumbled across your blog, darling. It's glorious. Truly, inspiring. Please visit my personal blog sometime, follow if you'd like.

    Afternoon Tea:
    http://www.madisonreece.blogspot.com

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  4. Thank you, Madison. I did, and I will. Magnificent words and photography, says I.

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  5. Jeff, thank you, again. Your words are so kind. Please keep in touch.

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  6. "..dreams are made of bread?" wow that's extremely hilarious.

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  7. Sure, unless it's sourdough. There's nothing funny about sourdough.

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  8. I appreciate your PO very much the article with the picture. Continues to refuel!!

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  9. Speaking of bread and dreams . . . Here's a line of dialogue from the Japanese film "Hausu [House]," spoken as a sort of goodbye by a girl to her beau as her trail departs:

    "Chocolate and sweets and bread and love and dreams."

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  10. Now that you mention it, Craig, I think my dreams might be made of chocolate instead. Not that there's anything wrong with bread, but it isn't chocolate, quite. Maybe I'll take a nap and find out for sure.

    Wonderful non-choice (probably) of words, too. Trains may come and go, but trails . . . now there's a visual concoction I'd like to see in my next favorite western!

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  11. Trails coming and going . . .

    reminds me of this rather charming photo essay:

    http://suzannemcminn.com/blog/2010/03/01/woman-attacked-by-goats-film-at-11/

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  12. With yet another old song (Happy Trails to you . . .) playing in my head, I'm off to check out the photo essay.

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  13. Aaaaah.....an oasis in the desert, at last.

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  14. Kind words indeed. Thanks for popping in, Bryce.

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  15. I appreciate your PO very much the picture with the article. Continues to refuel!!

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  16. Watch those dreams. I dreamed of fine, hot, tasty breads. Put them in the oven, used various flours, made many fine loafs, gained fifteen pounds. Enjoyed browsing your blog, you've got some good stuff. I've tagged it so I can find my way back. Watch those dreams. Regards.

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  17. Thanks! Stop by again soon.

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  18. I must say I love this. I just made my own blog and I'm still in the discovering process.
    My dreams are made of scrap metal. Some are rusted, some are just sharp.

    Brost.

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  19. Thanks, Coral. Seems to me you're off to a good start, blogwise.

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  20. If dreams are made of bread (which they are, as you have proven), then recurring dreams are biscotti. But now this question: are there any benchmarks for bad dreams aside from mold? If a dream doesn't have mold, is it not bad?

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  21. Happily, the answer is yes. A twice-baked dream is never a halfbaked dream, thus reducing the mold quotient by 1.5 marks. Any remaining spores can be removed from the bench with the aid of a long nap, followed by a quick trip to the terminal. If the driver still hasn't asked for a transfer by that time, it's safe to assume that he or she is happy with the route, and doesn't intend to wake you.

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