Tuesday, May 31, 2016
If It's All Chemicals, I'd Like The Ones I Have Today, Thank You
I am at my mother's house. She has recently died. The place is a huge mess. Jessie has just given birth and needs me. One of my younger brothers shows up and he somehow got out of a hospital and has an infection on his back and needs to return to the hospital, although I think to myself that I could probably heal him with Golden Seal poultices. He is at once man and boy. There are other children there who need tending. And feeding. And I am trying to find important documents about my mother's death. And there is SO much mess. (In real life, my mother was very tidy.) I can't find my phone. I keep mistaking a remote for the land line phone. I need my husband. He does show up and I say, "LOOK! This is just like all of those dreams I've been having!"
Everyone needs to go to bed. The beds need sheets on them. Everything is filthy and the washing machine doesn't work. I need to get to Jessie.
I wake up from this mess when Maurice meows at a door which has somehow gotten shut in the night. She is done with her hunting and wants in to eat and snuggle.
Thank god. Thank god. Thank Maurice. For once, the crazy dream has simply dissolved into a fairly humorous memory instead of hanging about in my head and trying to drag me back into that nightmare place.
I don't think you need a degree in psychology to figure out these dreams.
Meanwhile, it is a beautiful day in Lloyd. My mind is fairly peaceful. I am going to do laundry and take trash to the trash place and tend chickens. Seventeen chickens is a lot of chickens for one old lady. And the conundrum now is that the three Barred Plymouth Rocks are big enough to go out of the coop but their coop mates are not. They are all, as Mr. Moon says, "cat-sized," meaning not that they are the size of cats but they are of a size which cats could easily snatch.
It's more complicated than it sounds.
Jessie is leaving for Asheville on Thursday. We are trying to get everything in before she goes. We are meeting at Persis for lunch, then going to Costco.
My life feels full and over-full and good.
I am so very grateful for it all. And for the fact that my washing machine does, in fact, work. And for the fact that I'll get to snuggle and kiss and hold this boy for two more days before he takes off with his parents for the summer.
Oh hell. I better start making reservations for a place to stay in Asheville now.
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Aw, the blue t-shirts and toothbrushes!ReplyDelete
I hope that keeps the dream at bay. I hate that shit. I came home the otherday and my mother in law had been napping. Thank god you came in! She said. I was having a terrible nightmare!
Then she told me about a dream where she had some wet clothes on the sink that she needed to get to the washing machine outside, but they were dripping and she couldn't find a basin to carry them in. It was awful, apparently! I had to laugh, but I know the distress these dreams where there is pressure and need and nothing works cause.
That baby boy is just about the cutest boy baby on the planet right now, I think.ReplyDelete
Love the picture! And by the way, the painting behind Vergil and August -- the woman with the jar? We have a copy of "The House on Mango Street" in the library that has that same image on the cover. I love that painting! Our book says it's by Jesus Helguera. Do you know anything about it?ReplyDelete
Jo- I know. How can such silly dreams create so much anxiety? It's weird.ReplyDelete
Elizabeth- Well. I think so. But you know...
Steve Reed- That is actually a calendar that Jessie and Vergil got in Cozumel. We visited a beautiful furniture shop and they were giving calendars away. I, too, love that painting. I'm going to look up Jesus Helguera.
Steve Reed- Okay. Yes. Of course! I am familiar with many of Sr. Helguera's works. Awesome!ReplyDelete