The last dream I had yesterday before getting up was that I was in my grandmother’s kitchen with all the pots and pans and some other little things on the table, arrayed before me.

She was sitting in the rocker behind me, reading, and I had a table knife, screwing things in more securely – the knobs on lids and the handles on pots, that sort of thing.

I always liked to do that sort of thing when I was younger – drag a whole bunch of stuff out and make it all shipshape and new again, though that stuff never really needed fixing.

She’s almost never in my dreams, so when she is, I don’t want to wake up, and I try to go back to sleep when I do, just in case she might be there for another few minutes, but she never is, and I just dream about something idiotic, like that time I won the goldfish for tossing the golfball in the fishbowl.