School's out,and I remember

the time is 4:41am,and we are still here journal,and having survived, we sally forth together into another day.My appointment with my doctor yesterday was almost as predicted;although my antennae were slightly askew in their estimations,he registered me unfit to return to work for two more months instead of the usual one month;and he gave me fifty six anti-depressants instead of twenty eight.He listened as I spewed dollops of unintelligible and inane drivel at him,purely because I felt it was expected;nodded when he felt it was appropriate that he showed he was still interested and listening attentively,and then said,"well,I'll see you in two months,unless you really need to see me before then;have a merry Christmas and a good New Year",he then shook my hand  and I left with his parting words reverberating in my apparently deaf ears,"if you feel as if you are going to end your life;give me a ring first", alright then,thank you very much doctor.I left the surgery and rode the bus home feeling as if I,at least,had the foundations of a plan in place;if I decide to shuffle off this mortal coil and end my life,don't call the doctor,I wouldn't want to be responsible for spoiling his Christmas.
                                On reaching home,I discovered that I had left my medication on the bus,I blame my age you know,and I had to call the local transport company for assistance.A very nice young lady called Wendy said,"not to worry sir,we all make mistakes as we get a bit older,we'll get your tablets back for you,I'll call you when we find them";a short time thereafter,I received the promised call,and Wendy informed me that I could pick up my tablets at the bus depot.This involved another forty minute bus journey there,and another forty minutes back;but at least I was reunited with my prescription,and no child had found them,which was my main concern.So,after dinner,I retired to bed,exhausted but strangely relaxed somehow;and I slept for three hours uninterrupted.
                                                                                   So,to the title of my latest entry,"School's out and I remember";as I slept I dreamed.Vivid technicolor images of the past unfolded and I was a child again.School had just ended for Summer vacation and my younger brother and I could,at long last,celebrate hot,limitless days of boyish adventures in the hills surrounding our home.In the mornings we rose scandalously early,a feat rarely accomplished during school time,and prepared for the day before us.Sandwiches so thick they would have held a door ajar with very little effort,and the ultimate refreshment prepared by our mother in readiness for our sun soaked sojourns to the hills;"sugarally watter";this heady brew was prepared thus,liquorice sticks as thick as our wrists were inserted into an empty soda bottle,the bottle was then filled with water and shaken lustily and deposited in a cupboard overnight.In the morning,there would be much rejoicing as this nectar of our childhood was revealed.A thick,tar like liquid,black as night,which looked and tasted glorious,and took an age to exit the bottle before rewarding us with an explosion of marvelous liquorice bounty that danced on our taste buds,and bounced off our tongues like no other concoction before or since.And when our ration of this liquid heaven had been consumed,my brother and I would have the added reward of gingerly fishing out the liquorice sticks still imprisoned within the bottle;absolute and unforgettable paradise!.
                                                                       My brother and I would then leave our home and,with eyes and hearts blazing with the full blown enthusiasm of youth,would away to our adventures;overflowing with the full blooded health,vigor and vitality of lusty young lion cubs.When I was a child,we were raised in the countryside,our home in Scotland surrounded by hills and glens;so much so,that five minutes after leaving our mother with a cheery wave,we were in the middle of nowhere;a vast land of unexplored territory,inhabited,courtesy of our youthful imagination,by lions,tigers,bears and,as yet,undiscovered tribes of heathen jungle warriors.As the sun beat down on our shirtless young backs,we were explorers,legionnaires;searching out new lands to claim for Scotland!Where have those halcyon days of youthful exuberance and innocence gone?,they are lost in time,eroded away by adulthood and responsibility,and I am a poorer man for their absence in my life today.Back in my dreams,my brother and I were surrounded by Scottish hills colored purple by endless swathes of heather as far as the eye could see.Suddenly,we were on the summit of a small mountain bedecked with violet,and we stood and gazed,struck silent with wonder,at the incredible vista before us.The view was breathtaking!,below us,our small village nestled in the glen,north of it,the River Leven flowed like a silver anaconda westwards into Loch Lomond,majestic in it's beauty,and surrounded by hills of indescribable splendor and colors no artist could ever hope to capture on canvas.Just then,my brother pointed to a gigantic rock atop a crag twenty yards away;"it's the dragon!",he cried,brandishing the wooden sword in his hand aloft.My own wooden sword answered his battle yell,and we charged forward,screaming defiance at the vile creature that had dared to invade our land!,once more we engaged in a death or glory tussle with Hot Breath,the name given to the fearsome dragon shaped rock,visible in his terribleness from any vantage point in our village,and known to all the lads we shared our childhood with.After what seemed an eternity,we stood victorious upon his slain body,swords held high in triumph,our land was safe once more;until the next time at least.After our triumphant defeat of Hot Breath,we young clansmen were in need of fortification and sustenance,and so,bathed in the sweat of victory,we sat and partook of our mothers jaw straining sandwiches and the life restoring deliciousness of the magical"sugarally watter".Our world seemed a much simpler place back then,the people kinder and with more time to just stop and say hello;I miss the world of my childhood,I miss the child that was me.I awoke from my dream,and I lamented that I had been torn from that never to be forgotten nirvana and forced to return to reality.However,I feel strangely strengthened by the visions of my past,the brother who ran through the hills of my childhood is a stranger to me now;our lives distanced by adulthood and events that were part and parcel of growing up,I miss him,but the love I felt for him as a child has not lessened,and perhaps can be rekindled with one telephone call;I will make that call today.Well journal,it is time to begone,but for the first time in a very long time,I have a little positivity in my soul to start my day with,and a soft smile upon my lips that isn't painted there for effect.Till tomorrow then,for I will remain in this world today,thanks to a dream,and almost forgotten memories of my brother,my friend,my battle companion and the mother,since sadly gone,who loved us both more than life itself.