Not just one dream containing lions, mind you, but three in recent memory. The first, I was in a barn which seemed to be on the property of one of the pubs I frequent, and friends from the pub were there. I was sitting on the straw floor next to the pub’s lions. They were quite large, but docile, and they were napping. One rolled over on me. Then I woke up.

The details of the second dream I do not recall, aside from the fact that I remember there were lions.

The third dream involved my brothers and friends playing in the streets and alleys of Arcadia when we were boys. But we had heard tales of a great lion that lived in the secret places of the town—places where children were not allowed to go, and places that parents never believed in. A majority of the dream involved the quest of the lion. And after finding scraps of paper with notes written in heiroglyphics, pelican feathers, ornate brass keys, and the like, I did see a glimpse of the lion. She was black and rather scruffy looking, and along her midsection was a wide russet stripe, much like the coloration of summer’s woolybear caterpillars. She was carrying her two woolybear-colored cubs, and walked away from me down an unknown alley. It was then I knew that whatever this majestic animal meant to Arcadia, its secret work would go on.

And so Janus, who looks to the future as well as the past, wishes us well as the Mercuriosity Shop softly slips into another day, and, thusly, another year. But no festivities have been planned for the anniversary. Why? Perhaps it is because every time we meet, it seems a celebration of something. Or, after the launching of the gift shop—which was a long time coming—I just needed a rest. Then again, perhaps the excess of artifice around here is crumbling under its own weight. Time will tell.

Things are always changing around here. This month—this year—will be no different. John, who helps out at the Shop quite a bit, now has an online portfolio of his work. While he promises to continue on here at the Shop, we do wish him the best with his new freelance endeavours. Also no longer lurking around here is the Gryffin. He’s moved on to Washington, where he’s either terrorizing the current administration or stalking Ana Marie Cox. Perhaps if he’s washingtonienne-lucky he’ll have her husband making scrambled eggs for him, too.

Plans for the future of the Shop, you ask? Nothing extravagant, that’s for sure. Although I saw Troy. So I may as well tell you about that soon. Then there was the opera I mentioned back in April. I had a reunion of sorts with the little cherubs that used to hang around the Shop, along with their beguiling pixie mother. I’m never sure if I’m supposed to just listen to her talk about her day or ravish her amongst the daffodils. And, of course, she reads this occasionally, so if the long-promised lunch date never materializes, I’ll know why. ;-)

I’ll have more things to share with you shortly, I promise.

Tonight my heart is full of a sad song—
My lonesome lover has taken off.
I’m wandering around on a cloud,
empty-hearted and down and out.
—Sascha by Jolie Holland

Yet another lazy day here at the Mercuriosity Shop. Here’s what I did today. I sat on a deck chair out in the lawn, drinking lemonade, eating roomkaas cheese and chilled black figs while listening to the new album escondida by Jolie Holland. She performs Piedmont-style blues, and it’s perfect for a sunny day like today.

It’s a lovely morning. The warm sun is shining down on my potted peppers, and the cottonwoods’ drifty snow is settling into the long lashes of napping pixies. Fat bees hum like mini bullroarers, blimping and bumping over white petaled cups of sweet nectar. In the bog, redwing blackbirds squeak their rusty gates, and the mourning dove family is warming some eggs for non-breakfast purposes. And while it’s not officially summer yet, it’s one of those summer days which demands one to vigorously and heroically pursue extended and overlapping intervals of languid inactivity.