Finally, a Good Dream

Just down the road from the green valley, a lazy creek winds through a vast field of tall grass. We used to call it "quack grass" because if you squeeze a blade between your thumbs and blow through it it 'quacks'. It is soft and doesn't cut you, and is a lovely shade of bright spring green.
Following a path through the shoulder high grass to a swimmin' hole. Next to the creek was a fire pit, and a shack on a floating dock to lift it up when the creek was high.

Swimming in the creek, seeing fish hiding in the shadows where the bank undercuts.
Grilling food on the firepit, having meaningful conversations with intelligent people, being smiled at by beautiful long haired men, laying in the sun, enjoying a homebrew or two.
Didn't want to leave such a pleasant day, but dusk was gathering and I had to make sure the chickens were in for the night.
Walked back up the road to the farm house, past friendly neighbors who also grow their own food.
Put the chickens to bed, and sat by the fire for a bit while someone told a story.
Then off to bed to sleep like the dead, much to do in the garden tomorrow.
:) :) :) :) :) :)
Thanks Hermit Jim, it worked!