Archive for the ‘12. Dreamscapes’ Category

Last night’s dreams were off the hook! I slept solid, though I didn’t go to sleep until late… nearly 3 a.m. – and with headache still in tact.  But the dreams were wild…

The first thing I remember is bringing in a grip of new animals, most specifically cats and birds.  The cats were like the return of all the cats I’ve owned before but no longer have.  I saw Cleocatra, the first cat I had in my adult life who ran away after her litter of kittens had been distributed to other homes (probably too early).  I saw Bagiera, the black cat I had to have put down because of feline lukemia.  I saw the four kitty sisters – Opal, Topaz, Garnet, and Peridot.  We had all the cats in the back kennel – and the new birds (exotic birds, including one as a gift for my mother), were in cages in the house.  What I remember is being at the kennel, on the outside, in the back yard – when I heard a sound – heavy slithering and breaking branches – coming down the hill.  I turned to look and saw an alligator.  I hollered to the kids and started running, trying to make it to and through the sliding glass door before the alligator could get me. This sucker was huge – at least six to eight feet in length – and fat, but quick. It chased me through the yard, snapping it’s jaws at me, but I made it through the door in time, just barely.  We caught it’s snout in the door as we were trying to close it.  Rhythm was going to try to “kick” the snout out to finish closing the door, but I cautioned him against it.  The alligator stayed and watched me, scratching at the door, snapping its jaws.  It wasn’t interested in anyone other than me. It wanted to eat me.

Alligator and/or crocodile are not in my Medicine wheel cards, but I do have them in the book Animal Speak by Ted Andrews. He lists their keynotes as, “Primal energies of birth, motherhood, and initiation.”  It has much to do with ingesting knowledge slowly, and using wisely new wisdom that is coming forth.

The next segment of the dream had Rhythm killing two of my cats.  I had come in from somewhere (dunno where) and he told me straight away, “I had to put down Bagiera and Topaz”.  I asked what he meant by “put down”.  He said they scratched him, so he considered them a danger and put them down.  Apparently, we had the tools on hand for injecting the animals with a final dose? I was extremely upset and asked him why he didn’t wait for me, why he didn’t ask if I was okay with it, and how he’d feel if he came home and found out I’d put his dogs down.  I was terribly upset, crying and hysterical over the loss of these cats.

Cats, according to Animal Speak by Ted Andrews, have keynotes of “Mystery, magick, and independence.” However, in the myths and legends of time and cultures past, cats were also associated with fertility.

The book, A Witch’s Book of Dreams by Karri Allrich says this about cats: “Often a favorite familiar of the Witch, the feline is mystery and knowledge, an ally, one who shares secrets. Independent and beautiful. Feminine instinct, a hunter, a seeker of comfort. Inscrutable. Do you have a cat in your life? this dream may reflect an aspect of your own feline instinct. If the cat is wounded, a part of your instinctual feminine is wounded. Are you rescuing the cat (your natural instinct)? Feeding it? (Nurturing your intuition?) If the cat has given birth to kittens, renewed feminine instinct/intuition is being born within you.”

Well, in my case, the cats were being killed – this particular book also suggests that every person we see in our dreams is merely a reflection of some portion of our own energy – an element of ourselves being shown to us in a different light.  That being the case, Rhythm in the dream would be an aspect of myself – the “Masculine” aspect, the “man of the house” part of me.  Therefore, the masculine urges in me are feeling threatened by the feminine instincts and trying to stiffle them. I can see how this might be true in my current circumstance, particularly in relation to love and romance.

As for the exotic birds, there was one specifically that was a gift for my mother.  It seemed almost reptillian, though, which is weird.  It had the wings of a bird, but the head and tail of a lizard.  It was copper in color, but had tropical colored feathers on its torso and wings.  Mom opened the cage door, the creature climed up on top of the cage door, but mom started waving her hands frantically and trying to “rush” the bird, forcing it to climb on her hand.  I remember telling Mom, “Give it time, Mom. Let him get used to you. You’re going to scare him.  We don’t know yet if he bites.  Ease off.”

The next part of the dream had me working in some sort of store – not the magick shoppe, I don’t think – but some sort of hodgpodge of retro relics and antiques, to carnival type foods – cotton candy, candied apples, etc. There was also an element of catering as I had a dessert case with samples of a wide variety of elaborate desserts and appetizers.  There was one person from work in the dream – a guy who recently moved, so I know i won’t be seeing again.  He was cool because he had a lot of metaphysical tendencies and we had some great chats and shared a few insights in the break room while he still worked there.  I’m not sure what his energy represented in this dream.  He was in no way a romantic connection – just a cool character, an old soul, and a great thinker that I loved to chat with.

In the dream, I was just closing up the store for the day.  I remember saying, “It wasn’t a bad day.”  Then, I flipped the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed”, and as soon as the “closed” sign was showing, I woke up.

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I over-slept.  It’s not often I do that — not often at all, but I sure did do it today.  I remember turning off the alarm, then giving myself caution, “You didn’t hit snooze, you turned it off.”  Then, I excused myself, told myself I’d get up, and proceded to go right back into a deep sleep.

This is the third night in a row I’ve dreamed about babies.  I’m either pregnant with them, just had them, found them (orphaned and needing cared for), or helping someone take care of theirs. I also dreamed about my little brother.  I was walking though some kind of market place, but I was looking down at my own feet, lost in my own thoughts. I bumped into someone, said sorry, and tried to move to the right – without looking up.  The person in front of me moved with me, intentionally blocking my path. I moved to the other side, the person moved.  Frustrated, I was in the process of raising my head to meet the person eye to eye as I said, “Excuse me, Sir.”  And that’s when I saw his face and squealed.”

“It’s my baby brother!” I hollered. “My brother’s here!” I scooped him up in a big hug, laughing at the moose antlers he was wearing  on his head.  Moose is one of my animal totems, the totem guarding the West, which helps with personal truths, inner answers, and the path to your goals.  Interesting that my brother’s energy wearing moose antlers BLOCKED MY PATH. 

My dad was also in the dream, but only for a split second.  He was asking me about the Jeep and whether or not I’ve had her fixed, and then said, “Make sure you take care of that little one.” And looked at my tummy.

Let’s recap – I cannot have children! I’ve had a hysterectomy, but some of the cards last week indicated new life, and the dreams are crazy full of babies.  Babies in dreams represent new energy, new beginnings, innocence, and dependency. 

Anyway, no time to go into all of that today… as soon as the uniform comes out of the dryer, I’m outta here. And mom sent me the number for her doctor, so I have to call there before I head out.

Of all days I wish I had time to do a Daily Dose, this is it.  It’s Mabon, Fall Equinox, the first day of Autumn.  It’s also the day we have our new VP in the store, so the day is bound to be high tension. Also today, the Sun shifts into Libra from Virgo, and I’m hoping that Libra energy restores a bit of balance to things in every day life.

Time to call the doc, pin the hair up, get into uniform, and head out…

Life is good.


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Yesterday was one of those days that wiped me out.  As opposed to the physical exaustion of the busy days, yesterday was extremely slow at work, as have been all the days of this week.  There’s a “drain” that happens when work is slow and money is low – but pressures of life remain high and demanding.  It’s that urgency of feeling like you must do something to improve the circumstance, yet feel stuck in the circumstance you’re in.

I’ve lots to say about work today, but no time to say it – and that’s probably for the best.

I came home thinking I’d finish that stupid traffic school course, but the problems with the internet abound.  I couldn’t get the heavy program to load on my computer.  It took an eternity just to get my blog to load, but I managed that, wrote out my tired thoughts in poetic form, then went directly to bed and fell immediately to sleep without delay — a nice change from recent nights.

I dreamed about business.  I was in meetings with clients.  I dreamed of doing their numerology charts, taking prints of their palms, doing their Tarot spreads, and scheduling follow up appointments.  When the alarm went off at six this morning, I hit snooze twice because I preferred where I was to where I knew I needed to be.  The dreamworld was much more fitting of a reality than the one to which I awoke. When I woke, I thought of yesterday’s lizard – and hoped I’d been dreaming my future.

I’m in a very obvious state of transformation and I feel like I’m living life from under water.  There’s a strange resistence to everything, a slow-motion feeling – and I’m struggling to come up for gulps of air.

Today’s my Friday at the day job… one more day to push through, and I hope today stays in standing with the other Thursdays, which are generally my most financially lucrative day of the week.  I’m excited about tomorrow… my first full day of meeting with clients on my own.  I’ve got the whole day booked, so I’ll be leaving early and getting home late.  I know it will be a healing experience for me and I’m looking forward to the energy surge.

Off to do the Daily Dose, then shower and change for work.

Life is difficult… but good.


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Had a difficult night last night.  Was irritated because I was supposed to switch Internet companies yesterday – a bundle package with Broadband, Dish T.V. and home telephone.  The technician showed up at about noon and the first words out of his mouth when I opened the front door were, “Ya’all don’t get Broadband out here through our company.”

I ended up cancelling the whole order. There’s only one company that offers Broadband where I live, and I’ve got them… and they suck! *sigh*

Tried to lay down for a nap, but the phone kept ringing… verification calls from the cancelled order.  Really, people?  Three times you have to call just to ask, “Do you really want to cancel your order?” Ugh!

When the phone quit ringing, I tried to lay down again.  This time, the dogs went nuts.  Barking, yelping, whining… what the hell?  I yell out the window a few times, which usually quiets them down, but they kept on.  Something’s out there.  I get out of bed, slip on my son’s flip flops which were conveniently left where they don’t belong by the front door, and headed out to fetch the pups.  They ran from one side of the kennel (the inside) to the other (the outside), all attention focused on one spot.  I see Bella-Beltane in attack mode… tail wagging frantically, front legs bent with paws pinning something.  Nose to the ground, ass in the air.  Sirius doesn’t care, but Odin runs in the opposite direction as Honey dances in circles hoping Bella will share.

“What have you got, Bella? Let it go!”

I walk to Bella… it’s a turtle, tucked safely in its shell.

Turtle magick, eh? I make mental note, but don’t bother to look it up or post it.  I only envy its ability to crawl into its own shell.

Back in the house with all four dogs, I tried to finish my traffic school… ya know, the online course – but, of course, my Internet connection sucks and the course kept freezing in Lesson Two, Section Three.  I repeated the same section six times, and it kept getting stuck in the same place.  Clicked the “life support chat” icon.  Window pops up, “Hi, this is Brenda. How can I help  you?”

“Brenda, my course keeps freezing in Lesson Two, Section Three.”

No reply.


No reply.

“H E L L O!”

No reply.


Sat at my desk staring into space for a long time.  I had tons of books I could have read, but was uninspired to read a single one.  Had two numerology reports to do, didn’t do them.  Finally, I wrote a bit of poetry (which seems to have been inspired by yesterday’s Tarot Card), then put myself to bed where I’d procede to toss and turn until the sheets, blankets, and pillows were on the floor.

Dreamed I was driving up a mountain.  The color and context of the mountain were unique.  Soft sand, the color of … darker than mocha but lighter than chocolate and a cross between gray and brown.  The sand was mesmerizing… captivating.  It held my attention.  There were stone caps on the mountain – and by stone, I mean crystal, but the color of Coca-Cola.  Light reflected from the crystal caps and I was bedazzled. Bewitched. Intrigued. It was a hypnotic effect.  Two times within the dream I nearly drove off the road.  Sirius was in the car with me, also entranced by the sand and the crystal capped mountain. It was seriously hypnotic and took my attention off the car. I had to struggle to stay focused and on the road.

At the top of the mountain was a school, and I was called to the principal’s office on account of my daughter.  She wasn’t in trouble.  On the contrary, she was being acknoweldged for outstanding behavior.  Her class had taken a field trip to a mall.  Two of her friends wanted to steal books from the bookstore.  Stinkerbelle refused.  Angry and frustrated with her “friends”, she walked away.  The two other girls got caught stealing. 

The dream flashed.  I was with my ex-husband, scouting apartments.  We were arguing and he kept telling me how expensive I was, how many sacrifices he’d made for me and my kids, and how much he didn’t want to stay in the state we were in.  I told him to leave.  He did.  The apartment he left us in was a bit run down, but had potential.  They didn’t allow pets and I was trying to figure out how I could convince the landlord otherwise, or hide my dogs, ’cause I wasn’t about to part ways with them.

The alarm went off, and I woke up with thoughts of the crystal peaks and strange colored sand, knowing that there was significance to them that I do not understand.  It reminded me a little bit of that one movie… Strange Encounters, is it?

Kids just left for school, first cup of coffee has been consumed, and I have about 2 hours and 20 minutes to do a full daily dose before I have to shower and leave for work.  Long days today and tomorrow, then a full day of readings with clients on Friday.  Company picnic with Mom on Saturday, then disgusting fourteen hour day Sunday at work, and another long one on Monday.  Sirius to the vet on Tuesday, and the cycle repeats.

Going to refill the coffee, then do the Daily Dose.

Life is good.


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All sheets, pillows, and comfortors were on the floor when I woke this morning, and I found myself lying on a bare mattress, shivering. We don’t have air conditioning.  All I had was open windows and a few fans. That’s one of the differences between Vegas and Kentucky.  In Vegas, it doesn’t matter what time of day it is in summer… you sweat! In Kentucky, the mornings are cool all year round.

In my dream, I was taking a tour of a huge house.  It had recently be redesigned and I was there to be shown the “after” version.  I remember getting lost in the house it was so big.  There were several sets of stairs, at least half a dozen bathrooms, if not more, and just as many bedrooms.  There was a den, a library, and a few additional “sitting rooms” aside from the bedrooms.  There was a swimming pool. I remember thinking it was very Feng Shui the way the stair cases were rounded instead of at a straight angle.  The archways were too, as was the furniture – round, not square. Soft, not rigid.  The colors were a combination of warm and cool, but each was as comfortable as the last, and all were inviting.

Clearly, it wasn’t my house – nothing about it was similar to mine, nor did it match any home I’d considered buying. However, I do know that when you dream of being inside of a house, you’re actually traveling inward, visiting your own inner sanctuary – the temple of the soul.

It was a clear reflection – an awareness that I am currently under construction, being remodeled from the inside out – not necessarily in need of repairs, not out of order, but being improved upon – providing a platform for better energy flow.

There were a few outside triggers for the dream.  Naturally, the last thing on my mind when I went to bed was this house and how much work it’s going to need if it’s ever going to feel like home.  I was also thinking about the house we didn’t get and how it will never be home.  I’ve decided I’m okay with that – because as much as the kids fell in love with that house, there were a few things about it that fell short in my book.  It didn’t have a front porch – and I’m so all about front porch sitting!  It didn’t have a fireplace, and even though I could have had one installed, I just felt like the next home I purchased will have a fireplace.  The other outside influence was the movie Fracture.  The house featured in that film was much more of a mansion – very modern and upper scale, clean cut.  T and I talked about its shape, its style, and what we did or didn’t like about it.  It took me a few minutes to put my finger on it, but then I said, “I don’t like it because it’s too straight-lined.  Everything is square or flat – even the swimming pool.  Too “block” like.  Nothing “flowed”.

So, I awake with the understanding that while everything is changing, everything is staying the same – and in that paradox, I’m being remodeled.  New interior design.

Okay… I’m good with that.  I always appreciate a good opportunity to evolve.

When I woke, I realized I’d overslept by an hour.  While dreaming, I managed to turn off my alarm clock. I have exactly one hour to whip through a Daily Dose and make my bed – then it’s hit the showers and off to work.

Life is good.

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Oddly enough, one of the last comments I’d made in last night’s rambles was that I hadn’t been dreaming the weird dreams.  Not so odd, Monday nights are known for their prophetic or insightful dreams.  Wouldn’t ya know it that it’d be a Monday that I have the odd dreams again…

Last night’s dreams were odd, but I know they’ve come from a deeper place and are meant to be causing reflection of sorts.  They weren’t scary or bizzarre, but they were… eh hem… capable of shaking me a bit. It makes me uncomfortable, and I’d like to ignore them and just carry on with the day as if they never happened… but I know better. I promised myself when I started this blog that I’d be honest and include it all – the good, the bad, and the ugly. Keeping it real, I’m keepin’ on keepin’ on with keepin’ promises to myself.

The dream was much like Scrooge and his ghosts of Christmas – only mine, of course (eye roll), was ghosts of Love.  Oddly enough, it wasn’t just a journey into the past revisiting the relationships I’ve tried and failed, but also glimpses into what could have been the future if those relationships had succeeded (which turns out to have been more of a failure) – and also a sneak peak into what could have been if other “seeds” of relationships would have sprouted rather than die out. I woke up being grateful that the past is the past, but it naturally made me question what I thought I was doing in the past.  Why did things look so clear when they were really so clouded? Why did I see bad as good? Why was I willing to self-sacrifice for people that didn’t really care about me at all? Why did I think I was “in love” when love had nothing to do with it?

Part of the reason, I think, is that I didn’t always get into relationships for the sake of love. Oh, I thought I did… don’t get me wrong.  Early on, I confused attention with love.  A compliment would have been all it took to get me to do a double take and throw out a flirtatious grin.  Obviously, back in those days, my self-esteem was shot all to hell.  I didn’t consider myself “worthy” of being “chosen” – not by anyone I felt worthy of choosing, so I guess I took what I could get. Not that the people I chose were “lesser” beings – but that I knew we weren’t suited for each other in the long run.  That was way early on, though… like pre-teen and teen.  After that, I confused sex and love – and the only thing of value that came from that lessonn is my children (no regrets!) –  well, and the awareness that sex and love are not synonymous.  Beyond those lessons, I found myself choosing people I could manipulate.  Not in a mean or bad way, mind you – but people who didn’t mind letting me call the shots, so to speak. I found out pretty quickly that wasn’t beneficial for anyone involved.

What’s the point in these not-so-private but maybe they should be confessions? Well, the dream is asking me to pause… to look at myself, my past, my present, and my future from an outside perspective. Maybe I’ve over-used the word Love.  I didn’t mean to – I thought I meant it when I said it… but ten, fifteen, twenty years later, I’m able to identify what it really was… and it wasn’t love. I’m being asked to identify what I’d willingly sacrifice or won’t for the sake of being accepted or being loved.  It’s taken me derned near 36 years of living, trying, failing, and trying again to figure out that I cannot, should not, and will not change who I am for the sake of another.  I am who I am… like it, or don’t. On the same token, I’ve learned not to try to change others.  I used to… I used to try to “fix” my partners.  “If only they’d….. they’d be perfect”.  Not true… nor is “perfect”. They are who they are… I either like them, or don’t.

It wasn’t a bad dream and I don’t wish it never happened… it’s just catapulted the day in a strange direction.  Here I am awake at 7:45 when I thought I’d sleep much later, thinking about things in a new way.

People confuse love with so many things.  Attention, acceptance, “ownership”, companionship, sex, familiarity.  It’s not just me – I’ve seen it done time and time again by others, too. Co-dependency isn’t love, and it seems to be the most common misconception.  It’s that “I can’t live without you” mindset.  Well, I’ve yet to meet a person who I couldn’t live without.  I may have preferred being with them… but being without them wasn’t the end of me.

So I start the day asking an incredibly poignant question – perhaps one I should have asked myself many moons ago: How do you define Love?

Not only is it important for us to have an understanding of how WE define love, but it’s equally important, I think, to understand how our partners define love.  Are the definitions compatible, or do they leave room for one to become the martar? “I did this, this and this… because I love you.  And you can’t even do that for me? If you loved me, you’d do this…”

I shake my head with a sour face at that thought.

It’ll be interesting to see how the cards surface today with thoughts like this in play.  And on that note, I’m off to engage in a Daily Dose.

*head rattle*

Life is good.


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Dreamed we were at T’s mom’s farm, fishing in her pond.  The fish I caught were all fried.  By that, I mean not that I caught the fish and then fried them, but that when I reeled in the line, there was fried fish hanging on the hook. (obviously work related!)

Everyone seemed to be doing battle over land ownership.  Everyone wanted a chunk and there weren’t enough chunks to go around. It felt a little bit like the book Grapes of Wrath, tied together with future concepts of New World Order stuff my daughter’s father used to freak out about – years ago before he took his own life.

At one point, the scene changed. I’m upset now because it’s the only part of the dream I don’t remember clearly. What I do remember from that part is going, “Oh, so that’s what my headache is for!” – Yet, I can’t remember what led to that conclusion!

The alarm went off at five a.m., but I kept hitting snooze until 5:30 when Rhythm stood over my bed.  The boy doesn’t even have to say a word or touch me… it’s a gift he’s always had.  He can wake me … telepathically.  It’s strange because I’ve always been a deep sleeper.  People used to joke that a bomb could go off next to my head and I’d sleep through it.  My ex husband used to start fights with me because I was so difficult to wake! But Rhythm? All he’s got to do is look at me and it “jolts” me back to reality.

When I woke, I realized I still have my headache.

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I had to look the word up just now.  It doesn’t exist.  The closest match was pothecary, which means British accent, and has nothing to do with what it meant in my dream.

Four o’clock a.m. precicesly I awoke, unable to take anymore.

The dream begins with two adult men, each wearing hats, being forced to walk through a doorway. The men were older, in their fifties.  On the other side of the doorway was the inside of an old house.  The men tried to get oriented, asking each other, “where are we, man?”

They see an open door. On the other side of the open door is a bed.  On a chair next to the bed is an old woman, fussing over an aged and ill man.

“Mom?” Says one of the men, but she doesn’t hear them. They realize they’re in the home of their early childhood.

Says the younger man of the two to the older, “Man, I think we’re dead.”

“That’d be a relief, wouldn’t it?” The older of the two replies.

“Yeah, I suppose it would.”

Then the dream flashes back fifty years or more when the two men are just young boys – and by young, I mean 4 and 5.  Their father is writing a check, explaining to the boys, “You’re too much trouble and it’s for the best. I have no choice but to send you to a perthicary.”

“What’s a perthicary?” The youngest one asks.

“An Orphanage” cries their mother in the background.

“Well, something like that, anyway.” Answers the father.

The two boys are immediately taken, but where they ended up was more like a mad scientists establishment. They were subjected to various forms of psychological torture, physical experimentation, and abuse of all sorts.

I watched these boys grow to older men, never being “of age” to be released from the prison in which they’d grown up.

The last thing I remember is one of the brothers being taken away, and the other being told to find him.  The younger brother set out in search of his older brother, but not before being given a shot in the leg.  He finds his older brother in a freeze tank, dressed only in boxer shorts and a thin tank top.  Somehow, this experiment was designed to turn the boys into genetic twins.  They were in their twenties when that happened.

The next scene had to do with a pregnant teen-aged girl doing laundry in the laundromat of a similar orphanage.  I say similar because it wasn’t the same… this one was designed for pregnant girls.

The only other thing I remember is a nanny that didn’t speak English that tended to the boys when they first were delivered to the orphanage. She liked them well enough.  One of the brothers had drawn a picture to send to his mother – a pink flamingo with a red heart in its chest – but the nanny was explaining there was no way to send it – no stamps, no post office.

The last scene was the same as the first… the two men walking through a doorway, wearing their hats, and discovering they’d entered the doorway of death… and for some reason were watching their aged mother tend to their dying father, but were unable to communicate with her.

When I awoke at exactly four a.m., I wondered why the dream catcher let this one through.  Why am I dreaming so strangely?

I couldn’t shake the eery feeling, so I came to put the dream here and get it out of my head.  I’m due to wake in two and a half hours so I can do the Daily Dose before leaving for work… yet I’m hesitant to go back to bed.

Maybe this time I’ll leave the light on.

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This must be one of the strangest dreams I’ve ever had in my life…

Word had come out that The Simpsons cartoon was to be cancelled.  The reason this was significant is that apparently MY LIFE was being created simultaneously by Matt Groening, creator of The Simpsons – who, in the dream, was played by  Dan Castellaneta – who, in reality, is the voice of Homer Simpson and several other Simpsons characters.  However, in the dream, Dan Castellaneta shifted from his true image to that of Christopher Lloyd, and in the end, took the shape of Elton John. By cancelling The Simpsons, my life was also being cancelled.

It was all a mystery at first.  Strange things started happening and we couldn’t figure out why.  We’d go out in the garage one day and it’d look like a different garage, or there’d be things in it that didn’t belong there.  Or, we’d step into a spot on the floor of the house only to “slip into the hole” because the INK for that “drawing” hadn’t dried yet.  Slowly but surely, it was T who figured out that my life was being sketched out as a cartoon by the same guy sketching out The Simpsons.  My job, then, was to seek out Matt Groening  and convince him that he couldn’t stop “creating” my life.  That’s when things really got weird.

He began taunting me by threatening to “erase” certain “characters” from my life, or forcing me to choose between them.  Machinery started acting odd… and by odd, I mean things like the tiller chasing me around the yard while a voice cackled and said, “How do you want to die?”

The only sense of calm in the dream came in the form of a cat.  She was silver – not quite an adult, but not a kitten.  She laid on her back and wrapped her paws around my arm to encourage me to pet her.  I wanted to keep her, but I knew better – so I started sleeping out on the porch hoping she’d choose to sleep with me. She felt like a guardian.

I remember two women in the dream… one was A whose cards I read the other day, the other was TL, the other woman whose cards I read the same day.  Funnily enough, they were sitting at a table together playing cards.  I remember telling them, excitedly, that I was off to find Matt Groening and convince him not to cancel the Simpsons because that’s why everything in my own life was going wrong.  I remember them both laughing…. not that my life turned out to be a cartoon, but because they didn’t believe I’d be able to keep The Simpsons on the air.

Just as I’d convinced Matt Groening – who looked like Dan Castellaneta, Christopher Lloyd, and Elton John, that I was worth saving, he looked at me and said, “Okay… one more season. Let’s see what you can do with it.”

Then I woke up.

It was 4:30. I’d been asleep for 3 1/2 hours!  What a nap!

I’m sure some of it had to do with the fact that I was sleeping in a strange bed in a strange room in my own house… all provided by T, who is a major ever-lovin’ fan of the Simpsons… and I’m sure some if it had to do with this morning’s posts and influences… but what a strange way to “adjust” to my current circumstance!


I need coffee.



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I dreamed of Pharaoh last night, and I know, at least in part, why.  Pharaoh was my black lab/goden retriever who is now buried in the back yard beneath a Sacred Heart rose bush and a weeping willow sprout.

Back in 2001, when I was getting divorced from husband number two who couldn’t stand animals, the kids and I decided that when we moved into our own apartment, we’d get one cat and one dog.  Their names came to us before they did.  We knew we’d name the cat Isis, the dog Pharaoh.  We knew they’d be rescues.

As soon as we’d settled into our new apartment, we went down to the animal shelter and asked for a list of all the animals that were due to be put down that day.  We went from cage to cage asking, “Are you Pharaoh?” Naturally, some of the dogs barked and yelped and panted… it’s like animals know when their time at the shelter is over and what’s coming.  Some of the dogs were terminally ill, some were badly wounded (as in missing an eye).  We wouldn’t have minded taking a “handicapped” dog, but the ones we saw weren’t “Pharaoh”.  We just knew.  I left the boys looking for dogs while Stinkerbelle and I went to visit the cats, following the same procedure, cage to cage: “Are you Isis?”

The boys came running to me in full-on excitement.  “We found him, Mom! We found him!”

I walked with the boys back to the dog kennel as they led me to Pharaoh’s cage.  On the cage, a sign written on a red, cut-out heart that said, “Huge heart.”  I looked into the cage, the dog looked back at me, and I asked, “Are you Pharaoh?”  The dog barked a “Yes”.  He was already an old guy, but had so much love left in him to give.  As we left the shelter with him, I said, “Pharaoh, come…” and he did.  I said, “Pharaoh, sit…” And he did.  He obediently answered every command I issued and did not require a leash.

Pharaoh lived with us in our apartment for seven months, during which time we’d suffered a major car accident.  My eldest son was badly wounded and was forced to home-school for the remainder of that school year (this was before we started homeschooling permanently).  Pharaoh stayed by that boy’s side and looked after him with vigilence.  He was our guardian, our guide, and our friend.

He loved car rides, which was wonderful, because we soon decided to move to Tulsa and took him along for the journey.  He loved Tulsa, with the exception of the abundant fleas and tick’s Tulsa offered.  However, in Tulsa, he had a major incident.  I woke one morning and found him convulsing, foaming at the mouth.  We rushed him to the emergency room to find out he’d had a spinal condition where his back bone was literally growing straight, fusing the vertabret together.  We were told to put him down.  We refused.  I looked up all sorts of holistic care for him, practiced massage on him, played him special music, used specific colored blankets for healing.  He never had another episode of convulsions, although his condition did worsen over time.

He moved back to Vegas with us when Tulsa turned out to be a nightmare, and from Vegas he moved with us to Kentucky.  Here is where he developed cancer and grew a tumor the size of a grapefruit on his tailbone. I nurtured him the best I could, cared for him with all my might, nursed him to the best of my ability… but when it was time, he told me.  We had to have him put down in December of 06.  As a family unit, we buried him in the back yard with his favorite chew toy, his favorite blanky, and a lil’ something from each of us to stay with him.

I’m sure that my mowing the lawn yesterday and visiting his grave had everything to do with me dreaming him last night.

Every once in a while, we “see” him, or we hear his bark.  We can feel the familiar way he nuzzled our knees when he wanted attention.  No doubt he remains with us.

Last night, while surfing through old blogs, I read the tales of his last days.  I blogged regularly then and recorded every detail of life.  It doesn’t surprise me, then, that I’d dream of him.  Usually, when I dream of him, he has messages for me.  In this dream, it was as if he knew a move was pending and was encouraging me to seek care for the other dogs.  I’d planned to anyway, but it’s nice to know Pharaoh is looking out for his k-9 buddies.  I also think he knows that his being buried here is one of the reasons I hesitate in moving, and he was letting me know he’d be with us no matter where we go.  But, knowing that the ex is buying the house makes leaving a little easier…

In my wallet, I still carry a lock of Pharaoh’s fur, his dog tag, and his photo.

Thanks for the visit, “Fair-Bear”.  It’s always good to see you, Buddy.


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