Manderly? Not!

Last night I dreamed I returned to School House Road.

When I made my way in the cat door at the rear of the Hot Springs Road house, safely evading the two resident cats and ignoring the what's-with-you look from the resident dog, I paused on my way to the computer to contemplate a few large shelves of books.. There were new books, old books, and reference books, along with that lovely orange volume, The Old Testament. Well, it seems that way to me. It is a testament of sorts. CMOS. Chicago Manual of Style. Most individuals who understand books know its value. In the shelf closest to the living room (into which I have yet dared to venture) was the story of the nameless human who had been romantically yanked from a tedious and dull life, into adventure. Rebecca. Daphne DuMaurier, if I recall correctly. Well, I have much in common with her, yanked as it were from a dull and tedious routine where I was called Tonka. Gimme a break, as they say.

After my sumptuous evening snack, I settled down for a nap, and dreamed I'd gone back to School House for a visit. Here, Tonka, Tonka, Tonka, one of them called. I am so not Tonka. I am so Epstein.