It is to dream of fevered things...

...a wonder of magic and enchantment on fevered wings.

I gotta say that when I had the brunt of this cold/flue I had no less then two and possably three sepereate days in which I had fevers that had my bed ridden mind in and out of conciousness to the point of not knowing if it was early evening, the middle of the night or moments before sunrise.

Ideas and dreams danced through my head mixing with the patterns of lace on the silly half curtain in the apartment. Meals were eaten and tasks taken care of but it's all so very fuzzy and unclear just where the waking started and the world where the midsgard serpent could be found laying his head on my chest and looking at me with deep intelligence, seeming to ask me to recall alchemical step in a process of great value to everything.

Some of the ideas and dreams I managed to record in my note books but the vast majority evaporated into the aether.

Sad really, they all seemed deeply profound at the time.

I do Remember one bussiness idea that is beyond my implementation but would be so cool if there was a place that did things that way. Heck I'd love to have a part in creating a place like that but the logistics are so far beyond me that by the time I actually figure out how make it all come together and start the thing up, you could very likely have something in real tech that beats it hands down.

Why do such wounderful dreams have to be such fleeting things?

Once more on the morrow, until then take care of yourselves.
Roving Jack