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Watcha waiting for??

Had the most vivid dream last night. No, really, it was an entire MOVIE!  With a title.

I usually dream I forgot my camera and see amazing things.  Last night, I had my camera, and everything no one else could see, I could see through my lens.  Which made me kind of  a super hero.

I solved crimes – creepy ass crimes, but crimes none the less.

I saw ghosts, and past crimes through my camera.

Normal eyes could not see what I saw.

The name of my dream movie was ‘Exposed’.

Go ahead – use it.  I’m not writing a screenplay anytime soon.  Just give me a credit somewhere. lol. Also dreamed about a dilapidated house that I was fixing.

Both of these things are awesome.

I used to analyze dreams – and when you dream of a house, it’s you.  Which room?  More about you.  Attic?  Your head – thoughts … bathroom … what needs cleansing, ridding of … bedroom – romantic life or rest, depending on your wake state.  Get it?

I was working on this house.

It was a seriously long night with an entire movie and fixing up my ‘house’.

Woke up with a positive attitude.

And a smile on my face.

And popped this song in the CD player of my car

SO how I’ve been feeling – from the writer’s block to not wanting to leave my home to realizing I have so much ahead of me.  What AM I waiting for???

I’m ready to take a chance.

I’m ready for my turn.



Dixon dreams, plastic cheese & rogue gifts

Dreamed of Daryl Dixon last night.  This pleased me.


Butters and I went to bed early – I was so tired yesterday I didn’t go grocery shopping AGAIN!

I started to make my lunch this morning, pulled two slices of bread out of the fridge, laid them on a paper towel, headed back to the fridge for some fillings only to discover, there were none.

Butters looked very disappointed, so she got a piece of Kraft cheese (the plastic wrapped kind, that will NEVER find itself anywhere near a sandwich of mine unless it’s grilled.)

cheese slice

So I’m sat without lunch and wondering if I’ll find the energy to go to the shop tonight. I mean, I HAVE to – but it’s so lovely and chilly out, all I want to do is drive straight home and put my comfy clothes on and snuggle in.

There’s also the issue of my car. *sigh* Yup. So the key is still randomly sticking and refusing to come out of the ignition from time to time. Yes, I wiggled the steering wheel. Yes, I pushed in before turning key. Yes, it’s in park when I do these things. I’m thinking shifter cable issue. I’m also thinking that is going to have to wait until after Christmas – which … is only a week away!!!!

I went rogue on one of Nic’s gifts – it was no where on any of his wish lists. I obviously can’t share what it is, but I’m SO hoping he likes it.

I can’t wait to see his face on Christmas morning. That’s my favorite part. Seeing him open his gifts.

I’m also thinking this weekend, after I finish up my shopping and settle down for a long Winters wrap – I’ll be indulging in some Nog.

I have the spirit! It has me! Now if I just had some Havarti and hummus, I’d have a sandwich.

Whorls in the wood and the stupid curtains

I was feeling a little melancholy.

I awoke with lots to do – but after a night of tossing and turning and dreaming of old love and new love – cats and snakes – I decided to ease gently into the day with coffee, breakfast  and a movie in bed.

The movie was ‘One Day’ a sweet romantic drama about a long-awaited love coming to fruition.  Their story took years – but having waited 17 months to be in my love’s arms – I related on an emotional level.

I was still in my pajamas – went outside to sip my coffeebefore the desert sun claimed that side of the house, and looked down at the deck.


I imagined myself in France or Italy, some small provincial town.  On a little patio, with coffee in hand – perhaps the aroma of  herbs and flowers drifting past me in a light breeze.

I imagined grass and gardens and quaint countryside.

I imagined going back inside and seeing my little home – a window seat next to piles of books.  Mismatched colorful pillows and copious amounts of fragrant candles, a tea kettle on the stove and a lazy cat sunning itself  on a comfortable chair.  Classical music filling every room as I padded bare foot with my coffee back to the bedroom.

I snapped back to reality when sirens sounded in the distance – had my usual ‘I hope no one is too badly hurt’ thought then returned to the whorls in the wood.

I could be sitting on any deck if I set my mind to it.  This was the thought I carried inside clutching my coffee – as I padded bare foot past my reality.

Herbs are present – in planters that take up the whole of my dining room table.  The rest of my home … well – it’s a rental and I think of it as a sufficient ‘shell’.

Nothing about it says ‘me’ except – inside, there has been so much love and so much laughter with my son.

This shell has seen me become humble and grateful.

Soon my love will be stepping through the very door I daydreamed through.

I’m anxious about the interior’s appearance.

My list of things to do consists of, once again, preparing the superficial to a degree of a satisfactory first impression.

An impossible task considering what i have to work with.

I hung new curtains in my bedroom and hated them.  I told him so.

His response:

“If you hate them, why do you use them?  OMG – ladies.   I will have you, not your curtains”

It made me laugh.

And of course he’s right.  And I’m wise enough to know the material things don’t matter, but I care about the shell being tidy and welcoming.

The curtains are lovely, but I refer to them as ‘the stupid curtains’ – mostly because they represent the silly need I feel to have objects make an impression.

As we skyped, and laughed today – while my very real dog barked from my comfortable sofa, I knew once we were looking at that deck – that whorl – together – nothing else would matter.

Especially not the stupid curtains.


Slipping through my fingers

I just returned from a special day with my mom.

Driving home it was 111 degrees in my car, but I had goosebumps on my skin while listening to this song.

It is our song – no doubt.

We both cried the first time we saw this scene in a local movie theater.  For different reasons I thought at the time, but now I’m not so sure.

I had chosen the soundtrack for the car ride today as it was our special mother-daughter day.

She mentioned Dancing Queen and how she related to it and to the part of the movie when Meryl Streep said “I used to have fun.”

She told me one day I would understand.

I reminded her that ‘one day’ had come.

I look back now at the days before I was a mother.  When I was the Dancing Queen – young and, okay, not so sweet.  But God did I live!

I know she did too.

She was young and beautiful and had hopes and dreams.

I do understand.

I keep catching up to points in her life all the time – and all the while she’s having new experiences that ‘one day’ I’ll understand.

“Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time”



I wonder if my mom knows how much she still means to me.

I watched her today, on a spa table.

She was on her back, eyes closed – golden red hair splayed out around her and she looked … so beautiful.

“Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it …”

I said nothing for a while – just stared at her.

This woman who was my entire world when I was that school girl.

She lay there, very still, lit by artificial light – as if she were no longer alive.

I couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“You’ll make a beautiful corpse.” I said.

She smiled.

We have a wicked sense of humor.


“Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers
Slipping through my fingers all the time”

The thing about becoming a mother, is that it’s the exact moment we realize how much our own mothers love us! 

Then in necessary irony, the universe shifts the pull of gravity from her to our own children.

But as my child becomes a man, I find an unmistakable pull back to the woman who once had my whole heart.

Today I wanted to soak up every second I had with her – catching glimpses of the woman who once sat brushing my hair, making my porridge, stroking my forehead.

“Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she’s gone, there’s that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can’t deny”

As I dropped her off home –  we both said our I love you’s and good-bye’s …  I suddenly wanted to never say good-bye.

I wanted my head in her lap as she stroked my forehead  – I wanted to see her dance and to talk about her hopes and dreams.

She got out of the car and turned and waved …

“Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness”

Slipping through my fingers all the time.








12:04 a.m.

I open my eyes – close them, certain I’ve seen that time before.

I had been roused from a dream – a recurring dream of navigating myself and my son across jagged rocks while the ocean waves came dangerously close.

Pushing him along and up to the safest route.

The rocks are black.

The waves sweep in and over – then back out.

I keep inching along.

I decide it is important to remember this. I reach down to the floor, grasp my diary and write in the darkness.

The pen falls from my hand.

I find sleep once again.


3:49 a.m.

The room is bathed in light. If I needed to, I feel I could have left my bed to start the day – but I’m remembering long days and a stressed heart.

I need my rest.

Where is the light coming from?

I try to remember if it was a full moon.

I find sleep.