One last time.

The Agaves have started to bloom. Do we have honey bees, Hummingbirds and all kinds of birds that like to sip nectar? I never dreamed that so many different things like the flowers. Might even be some big moths at night we never see. Good thing they are so tall so the critters are way above our heads and not at body level like most of the other flowers are in the yard. Other than the hollyhocks and one batchlor button plant, all the other flowers in our yard are yellow. The pink poppies haven't opened yet.

Phillip and I were watching a documentary the other morning about the universe. All about black hole and worm holes in space. Gave me an instant brain echo. Reminded me of a dream I had a while back. In the dream, Phillip and I were going back to West Virginia to look up my Dad's ancestors. We were going to drive, so we went to a place that I would call a station. We drove inside and up to a gate. There was a terminal by the gate that you put all the information into. Like where you were going, who you were and why you were going there. How to pay and so forth. When we were done we drove up a ramp and onto what I will call a sled of some sort. A door closed behind us and we were pushed or pulled into a translucent tunnel. We had nothing else to do until we reached WVA so we decided to have our lunch. As we ate a sandwich, chips and drank a can of pop, we could see out the sides of this tunnel a wee bit and there were other pods rushing alongside, above and crossed under and all the while merging in the same tunnel that we were on. We no more finished lunch, than we were at the station in WVA. I don't remember what happened after we arrived because I woke up from the knowledge of the fast travel. Some mode of transportation I'd say. Makes one wonder if this is one of those dreams of mine that will come true in the future.

This will be my last post til I get back from up north. We want to be in Idaho by the 4th of July.

That don't mean that the rest of you guys can't post in the meantime.

Til fall, adios. Granny