Although I am not overly superstitious, as Friday the 13th is set to arrive (which will be the first day we are part of the new company, not entirely auspicious), I realized that I do not like being in the 13th row of an airplane, nor will I allow the sound control on my TV to stay on level 13 (even if 12 is too soft and 14 is too loud). I do not even like being on the 14th floor of a hotel, knowing that hotels rename the 13th floor as the 14th because of people like me. Is it too much to ask that they just leave the 13th floor empty?

After talking with my 93 year old Aunt Gert a couple of weeks ago, I started working on a quilt for her. It's in blues and purples and all made out of material that her sister had accumulated in the 60s and 70s. Caitlin and Rebecca helped me choose the colors and lay out the squares, which was challenging considering that there were not sufficient amounts of any one material to complete a pattern. My hope is that the thought behind the quilt will make up for the somewhat unbalanced pattern. So far the quilt has not progressed beyond being laid out on the floor in the computer/sewing room, serving as a convenient place for the cats to sprawl and knock the blocks a-kilter.

Dreams: I was in North Carolina at a gigantic stadium/museum building that housed some unnamed sports team whose colors were scarlet and bright blue. My husband was there and told me that he could have gotten us better tickets if he had used contacts that he had. I was sitting outside the stadium, looking at the massive gray granite walls that were embossed with the team's colors and logos. There was something foreboding about this building, and it seemed connected to the prior night's dream in which I was traveling in the South. The closest I'm going to come to the South will be a quick trip to Miami in March.

The second part of the dream was at a party in a big old house. I was sitting in the foyer on the floor under a big mahogany round table and people were walking by. Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox were sitting under there with me and we were talking about what we were going to do during our sleepover. Jennifer Aniston had her hair in pigtails and her feet were bare, with dark maroon polish on her toenails. Her feet were tiny and had a high arch, almost as if they had been bound in the ancient Chinese tradition. There is probably a lifetime's worth of Freudian symbolism in that little snippet of a dream, which I'm not prepared to speculate about. Suffice to say that I am looking for a round table for my foyer. Ahem.