We unevacuated from Starkville, Mississippi, as Ivan began to hit that town. Starkville is okay for an evacuation, but I don't think I'd really want to be there otherwise. A. went bonkers because nothing was as it should be to him -- even the maroon color of my new M.S.U. ballcap set him off. The ballcap I usually wear is gray with a Cleveland Indians emblem on it. A. did enjoy his time with me in the hotel pool. I really can't complain about my own experience, in light of the pictures I've seen of Pensacola and Gulf Shores. Those pictures really hit home because I've spent some time in that area, as have most New Orleanians. Ivan was devastating, even more so than I would have thought.

I had dreams about T. on consecutive nights this week. The first dream was the more interesting of the two. Somebody came up with a machine to project the images dreamed by autistic children onto clear, acrylic screens (kind of like those screens in Minority Report). T.'s images of Dw and me were disturbing -- we appeared rather monstrous. His thoughts were written on other acrylic screens, but they were in Hebrew and I couldn't read them. In the second dream, I'm walking hand in hand with T. at a carnival. He is able to explain to others in perfect English how he has progressed at the St. Mary's school. He also declines some treat or other (for some reason, I think of cotton candy) and to do so very politely. Does anybody else have dreams about their kids?