I've had some remarkably vivid and memorable dreams of late. Two nights ago, perhaps influenced by the road work being done along I-84 through Boise, I dreamed that my wife and I were driving along I-15 near Barstow--but big trucks were dumping dirt on the road surface. At the same time, huge winds were making it hard to keep the Jaguar in lane. As we come up over a rise, we see someone riding a pig at full gallop in the lane ahead of us. As we pass the rider and pig, we can hear the pig indignantly squealing--because pigs hate being ridden at full gallop.
In last night's dream, I was a member of a bomber aircrew over World War II Italy, and our plane is hit (most anachronistically) by an air to air missile. We are putting on our parachutes and getting ready to jump--but while I'm not the first one out of the plane, many of the others aboard are taking their own sweet time to get ready to jump--and we're down to a few hundred feet, at most, above the ground. Are they hoping to find a flat spot to crash-land the plane?
Very odd dreams.