Where and When Do Dreams Start?

I think that bad dreams start in the liver. When we taught at the High Mowing Waldorf School in New Hampshire, (actually we were boy's dorm counselors with small teaching assignments..I taught current events which was mainly reading the New York Times), Stephen and Eunice Chalmers wrote and directed a play which I remember somewhat. It was called ? What Stephen? "The Gourmands Nightmare"? Wow. That is so not it. But as I remember it, the story had many crazy and entertaining scenes which, it turns out were the result of a huge and over-rich dinner that the dreamer had eaten. I have certainly had that experience. Mom used to tell us not to eat cheese at bedtime. "It will give you bad dreams." Old Irish wisdom, I suppose.

But putting aside bad dreams for the moment and trying to forget old German wisdom that the liver is sluggish at night, I was trying to remember when I first thought of coming to Thailand. In the summer after 7th grade, my brother badly broke his leg. It was a feat only Bill could have produced. He hit a car at a stop light. He was stopped on his bike and the car was stopped. (This is only my memory of the event). He somehow fell into the car and the break was a compound fracture which left bone sticking out. My mother paid me to hang out with him in the sun room for parts of each day. He did need a little entertainment. He was missing a whole summer of fun. That summer, I gave the book mobile record business.

One of the books  I read was "Anna and the King of Siam". I was hooked. Further on in the hookage was seeing "The King and I" starring Yul Brenner. So, much as on my first trip to Atlanta, when I somewhere in my mind expected to run into Brett and Scarlett, I had a certain images coming to the former Siam. (pronounced Seeeam) And actually, I have not been disappointed. You see, you get glimpses here and there of the old kingdom. Soon I am going to the country side where this will make more sense than at a beach resort.

One thing that is amazing me is how little language needs to be used to get by and to make friends and alliances. The eyes are something else, aren't they? A little Dutch baby was laughing as her eyes followed something dancing in the air (fairies?) this morning. I pretended to see them. She saw me and gave me this deep look and then laughed. Later her mother said she likes the wind. It was so more than that and baby and I knew it. We bonded.