Saturday, March 28, 2015

one of those darned observer dreams (6WS)

the observer/reporter for a plane crash,  as a voice over:  "the parents had refused the baby seat for their 6 month old child--when the plane crashed, it was the one thing that saved the baby's life, since the spot where it would have been firmly strapped in was directly under a luggage holder, which dropped all its luggage onto the spot where the baby, pinned by the seat, would have been crushed.

As it was, it had been thrown out of the mother's arms and rolled--or crawled--under the seat in front of it, protected and safe. The parents were killed by the falling luggage.  The baby's angry cries were detected by a flight attendant who had been commandeered to search for any signs of life--she found the child, slightly bloodied but mostly just angry and hungry--the attendant had just given birth to a child a month previous and without even thinking  took the child to a secluded place, opened her tunic, and nursed it.  Fifteen minutes later someone found them, nestled against a pile of lumber and rubble, content with each other and ignoring the disaster around them. "

and then the camera moves back to show one small woman nursing a small baby while workers continue the search for more casualties...

These are the oddest dreams,  this is probably the fourth in a series. They all seem to encompass humanity, a newpaper article being read which turns into a visual and a voice over--this one took the form of a news reporter and a movie type image not of the crash but of the aftermath...

And if I record  it fast enough, it comes back nearly verbatim.  =)

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

What I Miss That Cannot Be Regained (whine alert)

The photo negatives my mother threw away in her last year--all the negatives that covered 80 years in the family--just dumped.  Her excuse?  "I didn't think  you wanted them...';

I'm the last one alive in this branch of the family and there is no one left to draw on for duplicates of any of them.  The only photos I have now are the ones that were in albums that she gave me one year. She had no idea why I would even want them,

silly, perhaps,  but I miss the paper dolls of mine she threw away, telling me they were being given to a little girl who didnt have any.  I realize now my mother did not give things away, she took them to the dump.

I miss the Fantastic Four (first six issues) she convinced me to get rid of.  I hadnt learned yet to not listen to her, lol  Her reasoning, I was too old for them.  uh huh.

I miss the pump organ she dismantled and hauled to the barn one day when I was in school. For years if I got down flat on my belly on the barn floor I could see the  ivory keys glinting on the ground under the barn..  Her excuse?  "I didnt think you cared, you NEVER play it..." (only every day, Mother)

All the letters she and my dad wrote to each other before they were married. I never read them, out of a sense of  privacy, but I knew they were in the attic...'were' being the operative word there.

I had a ton of GoldenBooks as a kid (the good ones, not the Disney knock offs they have now) and they mysteriously disappeared too.  Probably the same invisible little girl got those too.

All the jigsaw puzzles, comic books, coloring books, toys, dolls, childrens books, games... Her excuse?  yep.

It was as if she was erasing me from her life,  one thing at a time.  She did it with my dad's stuff too, come to think of it,  when I cleaned out the house before  it was sold there wasnt a single invoice,  letter, ledger, nothing left to show he had ever existed.

Yes, this is whining.  I'll try not to do it again.  But there are times when the only way through a puzzle is just that, straight through it and out the other side.  None of this can be changed, made right, or brought back.  I may come to terms with that eventually, or not at all.   What is really scary, her sister did the same thing (my birthmother, btw),  threw away or dumped all the family photos in HER life,  anything she had. I never did see those.  She even threw me away by dumping me on her sister. Oh, hot potato time, lol.  My husband once said, its a wonder you can form full sentences, and he may be right.  

And strangely enough,  I do the same thing with my own stuff, now.  And  I find myself inching toward all the school papers my husband;'s mother faithfully saved, year by year, and when I do reach that stage I always ask first, and he always says, "I want to save them" I do try to honor that, ignoring that genetic Need to Throw Things Away...

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Friday, March 13, 2015


which is where I seem to be right now

ad on a local radio station which always reminds me of how the other 99% of the world lives

"our house was so drafty and cold  all last winter it was like living in a refrigerator.  Why we had to wear two sweaters just to keep warm... "   Poor babies. they couldnt just wear long underwear and slipper socks and a scarf and maybe a nice heavy down vest like the rest of us???

I know we are on the other side of winter here, because no matter how cold it really is at any given moment,  or how high the snow is, we keep forgetting to feed the fiyahs.  They get restarted a LOT now.    I would say that psychologically wintah is ovah.  Now if we could just convince the weather gods.
The light suddenly seems different.  The sun now rises way over there instead of directly across the field, and of course its been sliding northward for 2 1/2 months, we just havent noticed.  And in a very few days it will be the first of spring.  (fist pump)  

When I was a little girl one of my favorite books was one of Robert Louis Stevenson's, with charming 30s type pictures of little boys and girls playing with hoops and kittens and such...and one which always puzzled me--the poem for March (or spring, anyway) showed a little girl on a swing, green grass all around her, and she is wearing a little girl dress and a sweater...
I had no knowledge of Britain  or different climates, and it was very hard to relate to that little girl on her swing,  wearing only summery clothes outside in March...

Sorry about the lack of anything in here,  i think im in brain freeze right now.  no promises, no guarantees.  Ill leave the cookie jar here and the coffee urn. help yourselves in the meantime


Monday, March 2, 2015

For Harvey

                                                            rose and bee balm

                                                              mammoth dill

                                                                monarch butterfly