A series of break-ins have occurred within a few miles of our house.  Thus far, the assailants have not been caught.  I don't know many details about the situation, but Janelle has been concerned enough to leave on our porch light throughout the night.

While I will leave questions about the effectiveness of this particular practice aside, I realized that my greatest concern isn't that they might take some of my valuables, but that they might break into our home while we are still in it.  Things are things, but the thought of something happening to my children has me wondering if we should invest in an alarm system, or at least some NRA stickers to put on the house windows.

When Annie was still alive, I felt a bit more protected.  Between her night-time prowling and Janelle's light sleeping, I believed that we would have plenty of response time should an intruder decide to enter our house.  Now that we don't have a dog (at least for the time being) and since Janelle's light sleeping has seemingly gotten deeper, I find myself a bit more anxious at night.  I have been waking up more often and feeling more tired in the morning even after a longer time in bed.

I suppose that it doesn't help that I still hold onto a bit of my childhood fear of the dark, particularly when I'm still in a dreamy haze.  Maybe keeping that outdoor light on will at least make it so I don't go bump in the dark as often.

I don't have a plot for this story so much as just a character: a living house.  This house cares for its inhabitants, providing for their needs and protecting them from dangers.  It's the opposite of a haunted house, although I suppose that it might be mistaken for one.  

There are three elements that led me to developing this idea.  1.When I was young, one of my favorite picture books was about a small house, whose windows were eyes, that watched as the area around him changed from rural, to suburban, to urban, to a downtown city, at which point he is moved back to the country again.  2. I often dream of houses with endless rooms, odd settings, and unique features.  3. I recently read some issues of Justice League Dark whose headquarters is the "House of Mystery"--a magical house that can summon rooms that its occupants need.

I don't have much more on this idea.  While a story could focus on a new couple who have settled in a house whose neighbors believe it is haunted, I also like the idea of it housing an older couple.  In the latter story, a young person visits the home to help the couple and begins witnessing odd occurrences that lead him (or her) to take a closer look.

I suppose that this story is a type of wish-fulfillment.  I would like a house like this. 

I did not sleep that well; I usually don't on the night before the first day of school.  Even after sixteen years of teaching, I still have nightmares (like the one last night) about having a sudden room change and not being able to find it, or suddenly having my classes switch and having to teach something I have never taught before (which has happened).

To counteract this, I usually listen to at least some of the previous weekend's "Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me!" (from NPR) that I record for my beginning-of-the-week drives.  I had discontinued the practice last year unless I was driving alone, but now Mera (my Prius) can play them on her speakers so we can both listen.  The combination of refreshing my mind of the previous week's news and lightening my soul with entertaining wit makes me feel genuinely prepared for the beginning of a week.

Truthfully, nightmares aside, I love the first day of school.  At no other time in the school year is there such an air of anticipation and determination.  Students arrive ready to prove themselves, to do better than they have ever done in the past.  Often, this energy wears off as the weeks continue, so I like to soak it in as much as possible on this first day.  Also, many of my students from previous years stop by to say hello, shake hands, or even give a quick hug.  It's usually on the first day that my previous students will sagely advise my incoming students about doing their work in my class and how to get on my "good side."

I am exhausted, but it's the good kind of exhaustion.  The kind of weariness that comes from knowing that I have a great job and get to deal with fantastic people.  Here's to another wonderful school year!

While I am strong supporter of the idea that many of our dreams are better left unfulfilled (look at the statistics for lottery winners), I also often lament the dreams of mine that have not materialized.  Any time I start thinking in this direction, Langston Hughes' poem "A Dream Deferred" comes to mind.  I think about the dreams I have lost that I regret, that have festered, that I have forgotten, and that still hold a happy memory for me.

I have few regrets as I am happy with my life and I know that changing even a small piece of my past could have seriously changed my life's course.  Still, there are forks in road of my life where, with everything else being equal, I would have liked to follow the other path. 

The greatest of these is following the path of being a full-time writer.  If anything, this summer (and many of those that came before) has shown that I need to work on my self-discipline if I want this to be more than a dream.  Still, I look with longing at people's "writing spaces" and dens.

As I have aged and my children have grown, I find that some of my dreams for them are not to be realized.  That may be for the best.  Many of my dreams for my children are dreams based on my ideas of happiness, which may or may not be their own.

I have few regrets, but I still have dreams that I would prefer if they were not deferred.

With a little less than a month before our first required day to report to school, I already find myself having nightmares about being back.  Don't get me wrong, I love teaching.  There are just so many things that can (and sometimes do) go wrong.  Probably because teaching is such a part of who I am, these dreams take those things that could go wrong and show them to me in spectacularly vivid ways.

Last night, for example, held one of my classic nightmares: a new classroom.  This one was on the fifth floor (my school only has one level) with only one "working" stairway that was missing a railing.  When I finally got to my room (many of these nightmares have me running late due to circumstances beyond my control), I found most of my students sitting on the narrow landing to the stairs, looking down five flights through broken pipes and wires.  They weren't in my classroom because the classroom was only about fifteen by twenty feet and filled with old materials from other teachers' classrooms.  We moved the stuff around as best as we could, but before I could start teaching, the bell rang and I had to go back down the treacherous stairs to get to a different classroom (I've only been in multiple classrooms one year, and I hated it).

That's most of what I remember (aside from something about a blizzard, parking problems, and MacDonald's coffee), but you get the basic idea.  At least I was teaching (or going to teach) in my subject area.  I have had dreams where I was teaching chemistry, biology, and even Spanish II (not Spanish I, but Spanish II).

It's a little early for the dreams.  They usually wait until early August.  They probably started early because I met with my new student teacher last week.  I could do without these nightmares.  I have enough self-doubt as is.

I had a strange set of dreams last night.  I know most people don't care about other people's dreams, but I decided to share this one as I wanted to write it down anyway.

I was driving north when I realized that Chicken, Alaska, was a lot closer than I thought.  I decided to stop by and see how things had changed.  Before I could get there, I stopped in a nearby town (I assume for fuel) and I was warned that things were in bad shape up there.  Wolves were attacking and someone was sabotaging the town's efforts to stop them.

I made my way there, but the road and the town itself were very different than the last time I was there.  The buildings were new, but done in a style like those seen at national parks.  There were a number of homes, a worship center (it was more of a meeting hall than a church), a general store (run by the owners of Chicken, Alaska Inc.), and some other buildings.  The owners remembered me and didn't trust me.  The husband ended up looking like Sawyer from lost.

Suddenly a house caught fire and I rushed over to help the people who were sleeping within it.  Not-Sawyer followed, but was not much help.  It was only once I managed to get the fire under control that we realized that the fire was a diversion.  The massive windmill which was used to power the well that supplied the town's water (I was told about the trouble it took to puncture the permafrost) was destroyed by an unknown force.

It was at that time that I woke up.  I don't know why I was thinking about Chicken, but it was a creepy dream.  The fires and destruction probably came from the comics that I've been reading and the wolves were right out of Skyrim.  The strange thing was that at no point did I feel helpless in my dream.  While the townspeople were doubting me, I was certain the entire time that I would be able to help make things better.  Usually wolves, fire, and destruction indicate a nightmare for me, but this one had me feeling empowered as I awoke.  Weird. 

I've been more than a little weepy today.  I even had a bit of a breakdown on my carpool into work.  ... all for the sake of a dream.

Annie, my family dog, has been getting more and more ill in the past week.  She is spending most of her days and nights sleeping.  When she is up, her movements are slow and difficult.  She has lost a great deal of weight and is hardly eating.

I often dream of moving to a new home, spending time learning the ins and outs of a sprawling house and walking the length of a massive yard.  Last night in my dream, I took Annie on a walk along a stream that passed behind the neighborhood.  The walk started slowly as she was walking stiffly, but as we continued on she regained her vitality.  

We had passed several houses when suddenly there wasn't a leash and Annie took off, galloping around the yards, circling me.  I tried catching her in her game of tag, but I couldn't keep up.  It didn't matter as she kept coming back, daring me to chase her.

I woke and wept for the joy of the dream and the pity of reality.

I couldn't fall to sleep last night.  I had one of those thoughts that refused to allow me to enter the peaceful bliss of my dreams.

I was concerned about the weather, more specifically: my drive to work.  For some reason, I had it in my mind that I would be involved something like one of the horrific accidents that I have seen on my past few drives to school (one was a multiple fatality).  Instead of wondering what my family would do in my absence (which is where my mind usually wanders), in this scenario I "woke up" on my airplane ride to Fairbanks on the way to my first year of college.

As this was a cross between a dream and a thought-experiment, I wondered how I would go about my life this second time around, especially since I now had all of my memories from my "first attempt."  My largest concern was for my children.  Simply knowing about my past experience would make it impossible to duplicate precisely the situations that would bring about my children (at least with the characteristics that I know and love).

This set my mind thinking about the multiple experiences and choices that I have made over the past 22+ years.  Some of them would not need to be repeated (I know which video games and books are worth reading).  Some of them would change my life significantly (this version of myself decided to pursue computer programming--there really isn't any benefit to taking another liberal arts degree if I already have the knowledge from the first one).  I could make changes that might significantly improve my life (investing in Yahoo early, and cashing out before the dot.com bust) and maybe even change the world (such as trying to warn officials, without making it sound like a threat, about the 9/11 attacks).

In my mind, the first person I seek out is Janelle.  Knowing that she will think I'm crazy, I try to convince her of the truth of my situation.  I believe that facts from her past (including some secrets) as well as some tiny pieces of knowledge that I had about the future (though late 1992 was rather bland despite the presidential election, there was also the Branch Davidians in Waco in early 1993) would convince her that I was telling the truth.  Knowing Janelle, I believe that she would even want to stay by my side through whatever craziness this would entail (including her getting pregnant in the second half of her freshman year of college).  

The second person I would entrust is Fr. Jim, although I admittedly would not have the same level of info to convince him of the veracity of my situation.  I would want Janelle and I to marry earlier to avoid some of the housing problems she had that coming summer and fall, and I would need Fr. Jim's help to both make that possible, not to mention needing a person whose advice I have always trusted help me with this situation.

I would entrust my parents, but not my siblings (who would only be high school age or younger at the time) with knowledge about my situation at the first winter break (giving my father investment tips).  I wouldn't trust trying to explain this over a phone call, and the Internet was not yet to Fairbanks (it would get there in early 1993).  Meanwhile, I would work with what I know now to excel at my classes and try to network with people before they become famous and/or wealthy.

I spent hours trying to get my mind off this activity last night and I will not bother you with the minutia.  Needless to say, I wanted to find some way to improve my current life as well as the lives of my family and friends (i.e. Could I warn some people about their upcoming cancer when it could make a difference?  Could anonymous donations from my new wealth give people the proper encouragement without turning them into assholes?).  I also wanted make some efforts to improve our overall world (although how to do so without ending up under government surveillance was an issue).

In the end, I found that a lot of my efforts were focused on trying to recreate my family as it currently is.  Losing my children to the ether of non-existence was a terrifying prospect.  I hope I can sleep better tonight.