Memories are Made of This

I was just writing an email to my sister about me having nightmares last night. A very rare happening. I was dreaming of my enormous forgetfulness and diminishing capacities. I dreamt a lot. I'll give you a few examples:
~ I dreamt of the many times I have had people running after me with my forgotten passport in their hands.
~ I dreamt of the time I walked home 15 miles in a sandstorm because I had for gotten that I had driven my car to work.
~ I dreamt of the time in Laos or Paraguay when carried two credit cards as my only source of funds. I had so damaged one that it was useless in an ATM and then discovered that was unable to find the other one.
~ Then I dreamt of the time I found that I was too weak to change my own tire.
~ Then I dreamt of the time I decided that I'd take no more driving trips. That was the time I had four blowouts in less than ten days.
Each time I awoke from these dreams I'd think of similar experiences. Like the times had lost watches and jackets during my school years.
As I wrote of these things, and more, to my sister, I was interrupted by a phone call. A kind lady was calling to tell me I had left my drivers license in her shop this morning.

Met an interesting man in her shop. Seems he has connections for buying and selling real estate in Mexico, Central America, and Colombia. He had brought money here from Mexico during the boom to build spec houses. He seemed very up to date on the action in Baja and western Sonora.
I asked him about property between La Paz and Cabo in Baja California. He said that his own family had land for sale in that area! I told him that I hasn't interested in land, but did have some interest in modest homes. The conversation got me thinking that it could turn out to be more interesting to head into Mexico instead of into Texas.

Anyway, I plan to head toward Palm Springs, California in the morning.

Having my license at hand may help me to sleep a bit better tonight.

Now may be a good time for me to tell Hughes Satellite people to suspend my service for a time.

Oh, remembered the time I walked home in the sandstorm. The next morning I woke up and not seeing my car in the drive way proceeded to report it stolen.