Unfinished dreams. They suck!

This simply has to be told appropriately, so here goes:

It is a shiny warm day while I walk along the boulevard that flanks the Mediterranean sea. Tourists and locals mill quietly over the newly paved walk, parents playing with their kids, buying ice creams and souvenirs from the multitude of stand lining the street, while a cheerful buzz surrounds me on all sides.

An average day for the Costa del Sol, really, and yet there is a strange vibration in the air. A pounding sound, distant but constant as the seagulls screech overhead, heading land inward in search of food, no doubt. There appears to be a crackle of energy all around, and yet I cannot pinpoint its cause while I look at the colorful displays in front of the many stores that run along the length of the boulevard.

I am examining a particularly nice sarong when I glance around warily, bugged by the sound that seems to be increasing with every passing minute. What is it? It buzzes, and yet it is like some sort of sloshing sound, rhythmically pounding as my eyes are slowly drawn toward the water’s edge.

Frowning, I turn. Is it my imagination or is the water vibrating in beat with the sound, I wonder, glancing up when another pesky seagull screeches, and draws my full attention as it heads away from the beach and into town.

That can’t be right, I think. Glancing back the way I came when to my horror I see the shoreline begin to recede. This can’t be happening, I think somewhat nervously, thinking back of the stories about tsunamis and the likes on the news. But there it is, where the water first lapped, it is steadily drawing away, revealing the rocky sea bottom for all to see.
Amazed, I stare at it for a solid ten seconds before I drop the sarong and back away.

Rather than waste time like my fellow pedestrians I try to remember where I parked the car, and for the life of me can’t. Mild panic begins to form in my mind by then, as I wonder how the heck I’m going to get away from there before disaster strikes…as I have no doubt it will.

While around me people are starting to take notice as well, actually heading towards the shore, I start backing up, heading into town, and higher ground when a distant rumble takes over from the throbbing sound, filling my ears when I get about two blocks away from the boulevard and chance a glance back over my shoulder.

There, at the distant horizon, where usually Africa is visible a dark line has appeared, announcing what I am sure is a real-live tsunami heading straight towards the busy shore.

From the corner of my eye, I see Bommel, my bobtail, and, wondering what the heck he’s doing here in town with me, I run over and wrap my blouse around his neck as a leash when mom comes tearing around the corner in a silver truck.
Since the cab is filled with two of the sibs and several more dogs, I toss Bommel into the truck bed and jump in after him just a second before mom pushes the pedal down and hurls us down the street that is slowly starting to fill with other cars.

By this time I’m starting to suspect that this is not reality, but a dream once again, as along the way we come across two more of our dogs that soon join me in the back of the truck. Though, in some distant part of my brain I am aware that this is a dream, tension is thick when the traffic jams in the center of town.

The roar of the sea is deafening by now, and while calling the remarkably obedient dogs to follow us, we get out of the car and start running towards the higher ground, about two miles from where we are at this particular time.

We’re not going to make it, we all realize when screams and chaos ensuing sounds from the way we came. Up ahead little brother shouts over the noise that the train is coming, and that if we hurry we can jump right on, making me roll my eyes somewhat comically.

Now, if I didn’t suspect it all to be a dream already, that would have tipped me of right there, considering that there are no freight trains going through town. But, in the dream we miraculously manage to jump on, humans and dogs alike, looking back in silent awe as we see a gigantic wave sweep through the streets and right over our truck, stuck between the other cars that have been left by fleeing passengers and drivers, right there on the roundabout.

Holding tight to the steel bracing on the train wagon, I suck in my breath as the wave obviously possesses more speed than my current mode of transportation, nears; shouting at my companions to climb up on the roof, when it becomes clear that we’re not going to clear the wave in time.

I’ve just about managed to throw the last dog on top, when the wave hits the train, sending it hurling off the tracks and into the unpopulated area, which it had been crossing. A massive water-body crashed into the wagon, soaking me from top to bottom as the train screeches and thuds into a sideways slide that protects us against that first wave rolling through the town. I am somewhat amazed, if not incredulous that I’ve managed to keep my hold at all, during the mad tumble.

Urging everyone to get moving and start climbing the steep hill against which the train has slid to a halt, I cast a quick glance back at where the second wave is already rolling over the beach and heading towards where we’re scrabbling up the rocky and muddy hill in hopes of getting to safety.

The dogs are madly rushing up ahead of me, making me shout an unheard warning at mom and the sibs right before the roar of water thundering straight at us… is cut off by the sound of my alarm.
Aaargh! It is so frustrating to be awakened from adventurous dreams. How am I supposed to write a book about such incoherent fragments without a proper ending, I wonder.

But anyway…The day is a clear one when I wake and let the dogs out to storm into the bright sunlight that is warm, as long as I stay out of the chilly wind still blowing in from the north. Feeling stiff and sore from the night that counted eight hours for a change, I do some stretches while at the same time our tenant arrives with her caretaker, sending my dogs to the fences in a flurry of motion and noise.

Rather than dawdle now that I’m still mind-numb with sleep, I head down to the house ASAP, setting myself to the task of the humongous load of laundry that’s waiting to be hung.
With big brother moving back and forth between the house and where I’m busy, we discuss the day’s plans, deciding on just doing messages and the likes on the computers, rather than writing because there’s quite a bit to do today.

By the time the younger sibs join us, I’m up to my eyeballs in cleaning spider webs…the dratted things are back within just a week or so…dust and grease as I clean windows, shelves and lamps that have lost all color due to the thick layer of Sahara sand that always blows into the house during windstorms.

Little sister, always the conscientious one, soon joins me, making us feel somewhat accomplished by the time we decide to quit for the day. The kitchen windows shine, as does the hallway mirror. Corners are empty of spider webs and lamps burn brightly now that clouds are gathering outside to hide the sun. By this time dusk settles and I need to get ready to go out and pay the remainder of the veterinary bill in the village.

Yesterday a phone call from the vet confirmed my suspicion that the bill we’d already paid for Clue was only a partial one, so now we have to drive over to pay the rest.
On the overall, the bill is frightfully high, but still below what I’d expected after everything that was done to save Clue.

The bill paid, and a quick update given to the worried vet + attendant, we decide to go to town as well, in hopes that the new sink has arrived at last at the home improvement store. It hasn’t, we soon find out, so we leave only with a new slide for the drawers before heading back home.

Today’s dinner consists out of leftover carrot soup, which for some reason tastes even better, but doesn’t fall well on my stomach; once again demonstrating against any form of food, and making me feel nauseous. However, with some effort I manage to keep it down, partially due to the fact that I dozed off after eating, sleeping through some boring TV show for about twenty minutes when little brother wakes me up with some question that I answer, but don’t really hear.

Chagrinned at the involuntary nap, I get up from the chair and decide to make coffee to keep myself awake, and settle behind the computer for the agreed upon writing session of the latest project. I’m pleasantly surprised when a few hours later I surface from the new vampire flick with three whole pages to add to the whole, and shut down the computer to see what other preparations we can make for the kitchen-remodeling project.

With my stomach disagreeing with the coffee, too, I suck it up and focus on the task at hand. Measurements are made, some rough sketches added to those already there, before I start sawing the foundation that we’re going to paint and put together in the morning–if all goes according to plan.

By the time we finish, I am rather happy that the day has come to an end, and gather my things and dogs to head on out to the courtyard.
I take one step out when I realize it’s pouring buckets, making me scowl as I discard my vest and sweater, lest they be drenched by the downpour, and knot them around my bag before I hurry the dogs up the mountain and towards the cabin.

The rain is like ice on my skin, penetrating through the long-sleeved T I’m still wearing, within seconds, before I slip inside and shake the excess water off.
With the dogs hurrying on into the rooms–none of them eager to linger out in the rain–I clean today’s mop bucket, just in case an “accident” happens during the night ahead, and then feed my pack.
Luckily it takes me only fifteen minutes to get the stereo going, filling the cabin with music as I settle with a book for a little while and then get crackin’ with the computer once more.