September 28th, 2001


Rosty's Garage

It was 100 degrees on the roof of the new garage by yesterday afternoon. I don't blame the workers for getting off that roof and not coming back until this morning. They're really fast, too. The windows, the one door, and the roof is all on now, and the sides are going up as is the garage door. I'm pretty impressed.

With the local dying of the building boom, we got some really good people at good prices and they're just working amazingly fast. I'm impressed. They're building this whole building in less than two weeks, from nothing but cleared dirt to an actual, solid, dependable structure. Wow. They're providing plenty of entertainment for Jet and Rosty and George as well, and the whole fascination of something being created lies in this for me, too. It's just fun watching it go up, and seeing just how much work it takes to defy entropy for a while is pretty cool.

Soon we'll have protection for the Baby Buggy and plenty of room for John to spread Moby Dick and all his assorted parts into places that he can actually find them and use them. That should be good.


So, for the first time since I got pregnant, I've had a spy-killer dream again. It's one of my groups of dreams, where I'm some kind of agent, one of those that everyone would be horrified to acknowledge, but are necessary to get things done to make the normal, actually moral, people safe again. What made me blink on waking up, though, was that Jet was part of my cover and part of my whole operational capabilities. No one suspects a woman with a baby of being some kind of destroyer of deadly organizations, especially when the baby is in peril, too.

Thing is I wasn't worried about Jet at all, in the dream. We did what we had to do, and when I planned my jobs, or carried them out, I knew what I had to do to keep us both safe, and he, as in real life, trusted me absolutely. He was pretty much himself as I know him in real life, I guess he's been enough a part of my life, now, that I can dream with him in them. It just always worked out. Jet was often even a diversion. Even the worst of the guys I was hunting didn't seem to suspect a baby.

It's interesting to note that Rosty's never been in one of my spy-killer dreams. M. occassionally showed up, but it was usually people I don't know. So having Jet actually in them is kind of... strange... for me.

Was a bit chilling waking up and remembering the decisions that I'd made during the dream; but it was back to the non-emotional, totally competent while working dreams, which was interesting. I seem to be getting enough sleep and plenty of work done, I guess.
  • Current Mood
    cold cold