Yes, I awakened this morning sleepwriting. I’ve only sleepwalked a couple of times in grade school.
I was writing a recipe. It didn’t have a name but I had a few ingredients measured such as flour. I don’t usually bake. I cooked. Baking was under the watchful eyes and hands of my mother and younger sisters.
Yesterday I received a pen, an old-fashioned nib pen with ink cartridges that do not leak. My husband bought one a few weeks ago and I liked it so bought myself one. It was my birthday, after all.
I do think I was typing, however. I thought I might have my 1957 Smith-Corona portable electric typewriter reconditioned near where my husband was working and make it ready to write a book, old-style. Yes, it was one of the first, and made me the most popular pre-computer gal in college. Now that I’ve dragged it cross-country several times (the heaviest laptop I’ve ever had) I know it goes for $6 on eBay, even the original 1957 model that I own.
Price doesn’t matter. My aunt the English teacher gave it to me for high school graduation. That’s all that counts. In the end I don’t know if it’s the pen or the typewriter that led me to this vivid dream, sleepwriting. I could be Lucy in Charles Schultz vignettes and charge five cents to interpret your dreams! Dee