Michael R. Barrick

I've been meaning to write this down since Friday. Thursday night I had an odd and funny dream. In the dream I owned a farm. OK, weird enough, but what made it funny was it was a goth farm. The barn was black, all the farm equipment (tractor, combine, et al.) was black. My farm hands were all people from the club. It was spring and there was a lot going on. In the dream I was in the farmhouse taking down the storm shutters with Aaron (the one that works at Mac) who was outside on a ladder. It was wacky.

I think this was a delayed reaction from driving through some seriously rural farm country on the way to Bellingham last week.