I have a recurring dream about the thrift store. I go to a thrift store I've never been to before. I look around. I rummage. And I find the most incredible, beautiful things! Old photographs, wood type, old ledgers and journal, a small press maybe. And I take it home, and then I wake up and hope, hope, hope that they'll be there. Well, maybe someday I'll find that cache of wood type in the sky.