Cut and connected

Little remembered from last night, which isn't surprising considering I slept like the dead! But what I do remember was walking in a field. Well, at the edge of a field. It was spring, like now, melting snow and matted grass all over, and the field was beside a busy roadway. This wasn't just any roadway or some "metaphor for your lifetime" roadway. No this was Steeles Ave in Toronto. Steeles and Warden to be precise. But not even Steeles and Warden as it is now, but rather as it was, when I was a teenager and dad used to go that way to work. So I was walking along a path at the side of the road, and talking to someone (a couple of someones actually, I think they were both women, one may even have been E's older sister) and I was telling them (sarcastically I hope) that I couldn't wear a miniskirt, since I didn't own one and I didn't think it'd suit me anyway.

Then I was...um, somewhere, I'm not sure where...the background was a bit hazy. And someone was with me, but I'm not sure who...they were a bit hazy too. I was wearing my nice white cable knit sweater and I saw how long my hair was. I mean *real* long. So I was going to cut it myself, but then these helpful hands from the other person came along and started cutting it for me. They did a really good job. While they did this, I was on the phone with E, talking to her and laughing and having a great time like I always do.

And that's it, that's all I remember....