This is day one with a new brand of waffles, since Eggo is currently experiencing some production problems. I saw the sign in Kroger a week ago, at which point the Storeys kindly donated a box of waffles from their own freezer, buying me another week of normalcy. Today, I venture into the unknown: the world of Kashi Heart to Heart Honey Oat waffles. Quite comparable in terms of taste and nutrition to my Eggo low-fat whole grain waffles, but significantly more expensive.
My dreams last night had nothing to do with breakfast, although one did involve eating... or rather, not eating... but I will save that for last.
The first dream I can remember was about a youth mission trip. We were preparing to return to Tennessee, and the leaders scrambled around to fit the last minute details in place. We were scheduled to leave that day, but I waited for a phone call on which our departure depended-- I think the call was to tell me whether someone had packed for the trip. At 11:30 p.m., the call came. At that point I thought it would be better to postpone the trip for the next day rather than begin the long drive so late at night. Plus, I still had to pack, check the tire pressure in the vans, and have their oil changed. A father chaperoning the trip insisted that we leave that night. The team stood in the moon-lit parking lot, and this father (now in charge) handed me a key to the white letter van, and Andrew Storey a key to the red letter van. Andrew and I looked at each other and frowned; we are aways van buddies. He can't split us up for such a long trip! Who would we have to laugh with? The dream ended with that question.
In the second dream last night, I was pledging a sorority (I can confidently attribute this to my recently developed habit of watching Greek.) Our pledge class took a trip to the beach, and as most of us played in the ocean, one shy girl sat alone. Her dad watched from a distance. I knew I should include her, but I had more interest in having a good time myself. A little ways off the coast (close enough to swim) there was a fixture... like a double-decker square pier standing alone. I swam to it, grabbed hold of the beams underneath the first level, and swung as one would on monkey bars. After a few swings I gained enough momentum to flip myself to the top level. I landed in an empty hot tub. My friends still in the water were impressed. To prolong their jealousy, I did not tell them the hot tub was empty, or that it actually hurt when I landed in it. I went on and on about the warm water and the view from above. Finally I climbed over the edge and flipped back into the ocean.
Here's the food dream... kind of. I sat down in my mom's kitchen to eat with my family, and someone (NOT in the family) served us a "culinary delicacy." This person put the plates in front of us, each with a whole burned crow-- feathers, beak, and all. I was appalled. No one else seemed to be bothered by it. I felt my stomach begin to churn, and I ran to the bathroom. I did not actually vomit, but I decided to fake the noises to send the message that I would not be eating the bird. Interesting that on Thanksgiving night I dreamed about a dead bird on my plate... the turkey I ate yesterday was fabulous, just for the record!
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