Friday, September 6, 2013

I Don't Think We Need Dr. Freud For This One

It's already been a bit of a strange morning but it couldn't help but be, considering the dream I woke up from.
I was in a play and I had none of the usual dream-play panic. No, it was going along very well and I do believe we were doing some Stephen King thing and Steve himself was the director and I felt like he was happy with what I was doing and I was even getting paid and had just gotten a raise and all was well mother walked in the door.
"Mom!" I said. "You're two hours early AND YOU'RE DEAD!"
Turns out that no, she wasn't dead, she'd just faked all that stuff and here she was to see me in a play but she still had the dementia and couldn't tell us where she'd been and she looked perfectly fine.
Boy, was I pissed.

I don't think I need to say anything more about that, thank you very much.

I drank coffee like it was my job for about an hour and a half, had a smoothie, took the trash, put on my permanently stinkified walking clothes and went out and started my daily self-induced torture and it was. It was too fucking hot and I felt like I might die and my hackles were up for the entire walk which is very unusual and I changed up my route and I forced myself to keep going because, well, what were the options there? Lay down in the dirt?
I did come across some absolutely darling little baby black-eyed daisies of some sort and I picked a few to bring home and make a bouquet out of, using one of the many tiny old bottles we've found in this yard as a vase.

That's a nickel there to give it some perspective.

Anyway, la-di-dah and who doesn't love the miniature? Check out Messy Nessy's post from this morning about someone who has taken the concept of miniaturization to a whole new level. It's HERE. 

All right. I ain't got nothing to say. I'm alive. So are you if you're reading this.

Happy Friday, y'all.
Love...Ms. Moon


  1. So glad you are alive!
    And I so enjoyed that link. Living in NYC, I'm familiar with so much of the places he shows.
    I remember once we were all driving in Times Square, in the days before it was "cleaned up," and we passed one of those "Live Nude Girls" signs. My son read it aloud and we all commented on how reassuring it was that it wasn't "Dead Nude Girls"!

  2. Impressed with your walking. Love the bouquet and I loved the link. Really neat and fun to look at.
    Happy Friday dear MM.

  3. I've dreamed about my mother a lot this week. In one dream I told her I'd just go home with her but she said no - we'd meet daddy at wherever we were going. When I woke up I thought well sure she can't go home - my father has remarried & it would be pretty awkward (not to mention the fact that she's been gone for over 8 years now!).

    Love love love the flowers - so sweet & wee :)

  4. I'm alive, too. Glorying in the mini-beauty of your flowers. Found treasure, found treasure, found treasure.

  5. There is a Canadian comedy troupe called Women Fully Clothed (four or five fabulously funny women, by the way), who took its name from seeing too many of those Nude Girls advertisements. They tour; see them if you ever get the opportunity!

    When I go for my walks in the heat of the day, I always regret it. Usually I end up with something akin to heat exhaustion, where I slow down to a crawl and just want to sit down. It happens if I haven't eaten enough or it's just too darn hot out. At least I think those are the possible causes.

    Lately we are experiencing extreme heat and humidity here in Saskatchewan so I must walk before 8 a.m. or after 7 pm. The first is too early -- I don't get moving that early -- and the latter is too late -- I am too tired by that time, if I've been working outdoors during the day. Oh dear. Excuses, excuses!

  6. That link was amazing. Thanks for sharing! And glad you brought home the flowers. :)

  7. Astonishing miniatures. I once made a slum dollhouse that was incredibly engrossing to do---it was made up, but seemed to take on its own history and tell its own story as I (slowly)progressed (torn linoleum with floorboards showing through, layers of peeling wallpaper, etc.,etc)but it was mere regular dollhouse scale. Can't imagine what it's like to work on something so tiny. Your little brown-eyed flowers are winsome. And Owen, in yesterday's picture, is absolutely aglow.

  8. It sounds like a nightmare or night terror to me. Great way to start a day, not. Sorry. Sweet Jo

  9. your yellow daisies look like coreopsis. and yeah, weird dreams.

  10. Whoa, that was one freaky dream girl. No wonder you were drinking coffee like it was your job!

    Hope your day got more delightful and less bizarre.

  11. Sylvia- Haha! They probably had some of those too, but tucked away with a password to get in. Sorry. That was sick.

    Bethany- I always feel very loved when you comment. Thank you, sweet, sweet girl.

    The Bug- Oh my. That WOULD be awkward. Dreams are just so ridiculous, aren't they?

    Denise- I know! And even though I was about to DIE, I stopped and picked those pretty little flowers. There were plenty to spare. I couldn't help it.

    Stubblejumpin' Gal- Well, it I used the heat as an excuse not to walk, I'd only walk here about fifty days a year. If that. And on at least thirty of those, it would be too damn cold. Not cold like where you are, but cold for us Southerners. So I just do it and come home and drink a ton of water.

    Mama D- I love that site. Messy Nessy. Every day she brings something to the table that I find fascinating.

    A- I love the word "winsome." It is severely underused. And it sounds to me as if your dollhouse creating turned into art. When it takes on a life of its own...

    Sweet Jo- It was a strange dream. And really- which was stranger- that I was getting paid to act or that my mother had faked her death? I really can't tell you.
    Which is pretty funny.

    Ellen Abbott- Thank-you, darling!

    Ms. Fleur- It got both. That's life sometimes.

  12. It is good to be alive, I'll totally agree on that. Even on the days when it seems as if the world is going to end or a new and stranger war is going to happen, I am still glad to be above ground.

  13. I wonder what they could have possibly marketed in such a tiny bottle? Medicine, I suppose.


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