Looking out my Backdoor: Field of dreams with Converse

“I love my night life.”

“You don’t have a night life,” my cousin Nancie, in Mexico for a three-week vacation in her house across the road from mine, countered. “You’re in bed when the sun goes down. What do you mean, night life?”

“My dreams. I dream marvelous stories. I usually wake up feeling happy and full of energy. Most of the time I don’t remember my dreams once I’m out of bed. Most of my dreams are like playing solitaire with a pinochle deck, but, lately, I feel that in my dreams I’m solving problems or answering questions,” I said.

About that time Nancie parked her car and we took our “...