Last night I dreamed of my father again. This time I was with my mother, and we were sitting a couple of desks apart in a classroom circle of desks. Except that it wasn't a classroom, even though that's how it looked. It was some kind of restaurant, and we had plates of food on our desks. Sitting across from us in the circle was my father, and he too had a plate of food on his desk. No one else was there; all the other desks were empty. It wasn't a long dream.

 I see my last post, June 30, mentions the wildfire smoke. It's back yesterday and today, this time coming from the west. Still awful!