Last night's dreams that I remember: I was at a gathering with a lot of Asians, and I agreed to drive a young lady somewhere. My car in a turn lane was rear-ended by another car, and when I got out to check the damage, the rednecks who hit me kept ramming my car repeatedly. A cop showed up who knew my family.
My grade school friend John Hawkins and I were at my father's mother's Appalachian farm in the holler outside Louisa, KY, and it was packed with migrants living in the barn, the smoikehouse, and the dairy.