Sunday, August 16, 2015

Grilled Figs with Ice Cream and Honey

I had a restless night last night. Mina was at a sleepover (I never sleep well on sleepover nights) and our bedroom was hot. I dreamed that in Mina's absence Freddie Mercury, of all people, resplendent in his 70's shoulder-length hair, straight bangs, fur coat, and star-shaped sunglasses moved into her room. While I was glad to see him doing so well, I wasn't super excited about him living with us. It meant Mina would have to move into the tree house. What if she rolled out of the tree in her sleep?! My mind worried over how I was going to break the news to Freddie that he had to go. I practiced speeches (Look, Freddie, we love having you here but...) and tried to think of alternative arrangements (maybe he could move into the tree house).

After several hours of us both tossing and turning, Colin got up and turned on the air conditioner (his sensibility, even in the wee hours of the night, never ceases to amaze me). As my body settled so did my mind: Mina's bedroom isn't that big so once Freddie realized that there wasn't enough room for his band he would move out...obviously.