> Alright, being as I haven't called myself a Rinkie (nor qualified as one) for more than a few weeks, and really I'm just beginning my induction into the Borg-- er, I mean, Rinkie Community. I've made my presence known in Chat, and I figure the Message Boards are the next logical step in the path toward total mind control. What better way to introduce and induct myself than to share my first (and, thus far, only) RinkDream?
>
> Alright, so it wasn't spectacular, just odd. I was at a craft/flea market fair of sort with my extra-large family and their smattering of kids. The kids were pulling me every which way and the adults were hovering... when I saw THEM. Sam and Leen tending a book stall. Books of all shapes, sizes, colors, and values were laid out on those nifty white plastic folding tables, and a merry Sam and Leen were dusting them off and, well... tending them. Whatever it means to 'tend' books, I suppose that was what they were doing.
> Anyway, I thought 'SAM AND LEEN OH WOW' and immediately started thinking up ways to contact them. But for some reason, the only way I had to contact them (despite the fact that they were standing right next to me) was through sending them a message over the internet, like the /msg command on RinkChat. I might point out here that there were no computers in sight. I was just going to use my brain power, I suppose.
> So I start trying to think up ways how I would send Sam a message without my family knowing. I was going to say 'Sam! It's Poim!' but for some odd reason, I couldn't because if I let on that I knew these people, my family would think they were psycho internet web-stalkers weilding axes! AAH! Get Poim away from them and send her home and ban her from ever talking to them again! Sigh.
>
> And then the dream focus changed to something different and completely unrelated to RinkWorks. I think it was about naughty construction workers. But I never did get to talk to Sam and Leen. :(
>
> The dreaming brain never ceases to amaze me.

The fact is that dreaming brains, unlike other brains, are not hampered by logic or reality. And I suppose that is good, but I don't know why.

I had a flea market dream recently, I dreamed that I was dreaming that I was at a flea market and woke up to find that I really was. But of course, it was only a dream. What a nightmare. I also dreamed that prices at the flea market were astronomical, which they sometimes are, but I try to give discounts. Otherwise nobody buys. If nobody buys, it's a real nightmare.

But seriously, I wonder why I can remember the details of a dream all the way through breakfast, but by lunch time I have forgotten everything. There are exceptions, of course, such as that silly flea market dream.

Another dream theme involves recurring dreams. There is one that I had over and over again for about 50 years. It was really simple. When I was in college in the 1950's I had box no.19 at the MTSU post office. So for years, I dreamed that I went back to good old box 19 after taking the summer off and it was so packed with mail, I had to pry it out. There are a few minor variations, but that's pretty much it.

I'm sure my dreaming brain replayed that more than 100 times. D- for originality.
Howard