A sorta sappy text: "Memories of memories of memories murmurring the woosh of a Flexible Flyer down the hill and almost into the Grumblys' front yard."

My brain isn't crumbling into anything usable yet. Not even any strong images. I'm not sure what the problem is. I feel good, and had a good night's sleep last night. Well, here's another image: "chemistry set." This could be a wonderful image, but it's a difficult one for me because I long yapped to my parents about wanting a chemistry set, and a microscope set. I was ten or eleven, and thought chemists were alchemists and that, with a chemistry set, I could invent all kinds of wonderful things. My mother got me both the sets I wanted, but they were not the most expensive ones available, so I was disgusted with them. (One of my friends got the more expensive one!) What's really disgusting, though, is that I never made any good use of either, being too impatient to actually learn how to do even simple chemistry, or mount slides, or even focus the microscope properly. (In fact, I never did become a hands-on sort of person, though I'm more one now, having become almost mediocre as a bicycle repairman.) But I did build a "chemistry lab" later, at age twelve. My family came into some sort of metal cabinet--like a filing cabinet without drawers. I don't know what it was originally used for, but I nailed a shelf into it and put my chemistry set on it. A veritable poem: useless, but magical as an enclosed volume in which one could learn the secrets of the universe!)