Dream of: 07 April 2019 "Contemplating A Trip"
I have a big road grader which seems to be parked in the parking lot of the Scioto County Community Action Organization on the southwest corner of Third and Market Streets in the historic Bonneyfiddle area of Portsmouth, Ohio. My paternal grandfather Liston Halley (1897-1966) is with me, and he is going to drive the grader to the location where we need to take it. I give him a key, then start walking away. Suddenly I realize I have a second key to a padlock which my grandfather might need. I think maybe I should turn around and take the key back to him, but then I decide I am also going to the location myself, so I can give the key to him there.
As I walk east on Third Street toward Market Street, I reflect that I am seriously thinking about traveling around the world soon and visiting all kinds of places. I am unsure whether I will hitchhike or whether I will take a vehicle. I think that even if I am traveling, I will still be able to maintain daily contact with people I know. I can post pictures of where I am on my Facebook Page and describe what I am doing. I even imagine myself being on the front deck of a cabin cruiser with my back toward the water. I take a picture with the sea in the background.
I specifically think about Mairita (an internet dream journalist) and I wonder whether I will tell her about my trip before I leave, or wait and surprise her by posting a picture on Facebook after I am actually traveling.
As I continue walking toward Market Street, I see a brown billfold lying on top of what appears to be a basket of clothes. I think about picking up the billfold, but instead I simply keep walking without touching it. I think maybe a vagrant left the billfold there. After I have passed the billfold, I turn around, look back, and realize that the billfold was actually in a basket sitting in the back of a pickup truck. When I see a fellow climb into a seat in the back of the truck, I am glad that I did not take the billfold and be accused of stealing. I think this is a lesson: when you see something like that which is not yours, you should not simply pick it up and take it.
When I have almost reached Market Street, a big truck with four or five pieces of heavy machinery being hauled on one flatbed trailer after another hitched to the back of the truck, passes me on my left, headed east.