June 18 SNAILS

Today, the dream remembering is up to me. This morning I woke up in a haze involving my friends in the band Poison Control Center, who I luckily and randomly saw in MN hours before leaving on this tour. So, in dream world, I see this dude walking away from me down the street wearing one of my favorites shirts (a shirt I recently lost in real life somewhere in Argentina). I ran at one of those dream speeds, where it seems like I’m moving quite fast, but for some reason, hardly gaining on my goal. But when I do, I tackle him with a panther-like leap. It turns out to be my friend Joe from the aforementioned PCC, and we have a good laugh and talk in that dreamy Charlie-Brown’s-Mom-talk sort of way. Pat shows up, and he’s wearing one of my shirts too. I’m thinking I might be having separation anxiety from my wardrobe all the way back across the Atlantic.

Today T’Nealle procured a new moniker, definitely an improvement on last tour's Meat Sandwich: Snails. Why? Because this is what she did yesterday. I took a picture of my own mollusk. It was as big as my finger and having a very French meal of escargot. Which I’m pretty sure is sluggibalism.

It was nice for a bit after the latest rain that brought out Snail's snails out in force, so we had a wee walk around before it decided to rain again. Please explain: As I was walking home I saw a case of this:
I looked around to make sure no one was trying to Ice me, Germany style.

My day pictures of walking around haven't been so nice. All dreary and overcast- and I thought that was only going to happen to us in Scotland. Painting our days make it a bit more bright an vibrant.
We end the day at our friends' flat. Things devolve into drinking games. Snails does her best Killer Joe impression as Zach hurtles bottle caps at her. This is how one become road tested. Or road weary, I'm not sure.