Saturday, February 13, 2010

The Other Side

DOESN'T dream time seem like that? The "Other Side"?
A few nights ago I struggled with a man who was in my house and I kept trying to tell everyone that he meant me harm. "They" said he seemed harmless. He said, "All right, I'll leave now."
But I knew he didn't mean it and as soon as the other person was gone he was attacking me again.
I screamed. I shouted. I hit and tore. I ran from the house - along with someone else (?) - and jumped through uneven fields full of blackberry vines. I didn't mind the running or the tears from brambles. I just wanted to get away.
Then I dreamed "they" were trying to kill us all. I asked, "Isn't there an alternative?"
"He," abruptly dropping his weapon and evil persona, said, "Well, yes, I guess there is." Turns out it involved something akin to selling my soul. However, I didn't get killed, so I guess I took this alternative.
If you gave up your soul there were only two things you could not do: You could not wear the "signs of the Zodiac" and you could not drink alcohol.
In my dream I saw a man lying "dead" because he was wearing a sign. Then I absentmindedly took a sip of wine. Oh no! Alcohol! I waited for the black smoke to pour out of me, because that's what happens when you drink alcohol with no soul. (where does this stuff come from?)
A better dream was last night's trip to The Other Side, when everyone (well, almost) wanted to kiss me on the cheek because I was "so cute." I must have been regressing to when I was about 5 years old.
No, no! Don't try and flatter me by saying, "What do you mean, when you were 5 years old?!" (Oh, OK. Go ahead.)
The Mister did celebrate his birthday, along with my sister, Miss Murphy. Aren't they cute? And this is proof!
On Valentine's Day the Mister and I took a drive through the country and you could see the creeks were swollen and the buds on the trees are ready to burst. The beavers on one creek had taken a tree down and skinned all the bark off it. The little cabin shown by the creek had ferns growing all over the roof. It was behind a large bush of bamboo and in the summer must be quite the secluded hideout. It is always cool in this spot, we heard from neighbors. Not much sun at all, but lots and lots of rich green moss.
There were chickens rooting around in the mud under netting to protect them from hawks. Chicken hawks.
The day was lovely and of course over too soon. But I did get an orchid from my sweetheart for Valentine's Day, so I was pleased - femminismo
p.s. The picture at the top of the post is from Life magazine images hosted by Google. It shows a father in West Germany showing his son the view on the other side in 1961. They were lucky to be looking over and not living a scary nightmare on the other side.


Steve said...

In my twenties I kept a dream diary for a year or so. It was fantastic and rather depressingly a lot more interesting and adventurous than my real life diary! Sadly I got out of the habit of writing it but I did, at my peak, get to the point where I could summon up almost perfect recall of all my dreams.

femminismo said...

Snips and snaps of dreams - that's what I'd have. A diary of insane moments. But it all makes such good sense while it's happening. I need to go check your blog today and get a laugh. femm

Candace said...

WOW. Which is better on this fabulosa post? The dream? The photo of Mister -- Looking for all the world like a kindly professorial mensch!?
Miss Murphy is lovely as well, and I love that cake. Yummo!
And an orchid? Just too cool...!
(gee, and I wish I were there to run around in that moss!)
Great great photos, Jeanne.
Your Pal,

femminismo said...

Candace you are too kind. Steve, thanks for the visit. I should learn to focus on the part of the photo that I want to be most clear. I was afraid, however, that someone with a shotgun would take offense to us gawking. Aw, they were probably inside by the fire.

Anonymous said...

I just read your comment over on Don's blog, made me laugh.

Blog hopping is the best form of procrastination around.