Category Archives: dreams

Five On Friday – September 23, 2011

Posted on by
4

I’ve only listed five things, but I’m very wordy today. If you plan on staying with me until the end here, you might want to grab a cup of tea and settle in.

1.     Katie is currently singing “On My Own” for voice lessons right now. Her dream is to play Eponine in the high school production of Les Miserables so she’s thrilled to have this song. Also, it’s one of my favorite songs from the play and as I listened to her practice last night I put my book down, closed my eyes and nearly wept with the beauty of it.

Let’s dissect this paragraph, shall we?

        a)     Katie isn’t necessarily interested in musical theater as a career or anything like that. Her greatest aspiration is to do a high school play. Is it just me, or does that strike anyone else a little funny? Not as in weird funny, but giggly funny. It’s just me, isn’t it?

        b)     Katie’s high school has no plans to produce Les Mis as far as we know. And yet, her goal is to play Eponine when her high school does. She’s a junior and she only has this and next year to make her dream a reality. Start crossing your fingers now.

        c)     Katie is sick. Her tonsils and adenoids are swollen and she sounds like someone is choking her. You can imagine how her singing is at the moment. And yet I thought her gargley, strangled voice was beautiful. Is that a mom’s bias or what?

2.     I finished reading “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest” the other night. I loved the series. As a warning to those of you who are looking for something good to read, it’s full of disturbing violence and macabre crimes. That said, it’s a great detective series that doesn’t always go the way you think it should.

Obviously I am in need of something new to read so today I purchased a new book for my Kindle – Saving CeeCee Honeycutt by Beth Hoffman. The blurb I read said, “Steel Magnolias meets The Help in this Southern debut novel sparkling with humor, heart, and feminine wisdom.” How could I resist?

3.     Last night Katie and I looked at local farm houses for sale on-line. We fell in love with a few of them, but the one we loved the most was built in 1803. It was also the most expensive at just a little over 3 million. It had a charming stone outbuilding that matched the large barn. At first I thought the outbuilding would be perfect for my writing/photography studio, but then I realized it would be even more perfect for Todd’s guitar repair business. It was climate controlled so the guitars would be in a good environment and had a lot of natural light and was roomy enough for his purposes.

The barn itself was probably worth a small fortune. It didn’t look like any livestock housing I’d ever seen. It had a wood floor and a high ceiling with beautiful beams and natural lighting, and it was obvious they used it for entertaining. In Katie’s words, “That will be perfect for my wedding.” Yes, indeed. And just think of all the money we’ll save in renting a hall.

The back of the farmhouse had a long covered brick porch and overlooked a pretty pond and rolling hills – also conducive to an outdoor wedding, as Katie pointed out. The house itself was a little over 9,000 square feet and had 6 bedrooms, 6 full baths, a media room the like of which I’ve never seen, fireplaces in all the rooms (though I didn’t see one in the media room), a beautiful and sunny and humongous gourmet kitchen and very large rooms, which I found interested considering the date it was built.

As we scrolled through all 28 of the pictures I realized I would need a whole lot more than $3,000,000.  Some of the rooms, though so utterly charming with their vintage architecture and beautiful moldings, left me at a complete loss as to how to decorate. I realized I would need to bring in the big guns – Candace Olsen or Vern Yip or some such HGTV designer.

I would also need a staff of housecleaners.

4.     We have a 30 foot pull behind trailer that hasn’t been out of storage for at least a year and a half. That’s very sad because this family has spent some of our best trips – from short weekends to long vacations – in that RV. It is really hard to find even a weekend when nobody has to work or has any other obligations and we just kind of stopped trying to find the time to go camping. I finally convinced Todd it was time to get it inspected and looked over so we could start using it again. Early next week he will be picking it up from the RV service center and on Thursday we’re headed down to spend a long weekend with Taylor. I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am on so many levels, not the least of which is more fodder for the blog.

5.     I stayed up until 12:30 this morning writing. I hadn’t even planned to write. It just sort of happened and it was exhilarating. I haven’t felt that kind of need to write for a very long time. It seemed almost like it was someone else writing. The events were mine and the emotions were mine, but it just poured out and it was a beautiful thing. I wrote the entire first chapter of my book. You know. The one I’ve been working on for the past five+ years?

Part of the breakthrough was a change in my thinking. When I started to write after the year from hell it was just for me. Then people began to tell me I needed to write a book and eventually I started looking at this process as a means to get published. Which, in turn, made me start thinking about my angle. There are hundreds of personal accounts of breast cancer on the shelves; what would make mine different or stand out? What I came up with was bupkis. There’s nothing particularly original about my story. And that added to my writing hang up.

I finally had an epiphany where all this is concerned. I HAVE to write this book for me, for Todd, for Taylor and for Katie. I don’t feel like I have a choice in the matter. I don’t have to write it for anyone else, though. And that thought was so very liberating. When you’re learning how to write for publication you learn the book must start with a hook. Something catchy to make the reader want to keep reading. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t come up with anything better than, “2005 started out as a great year.” How does that grab ya?? It doesn’t. (Though I daresay, “Call me Ishmael” isn’t so catchy, either, and look at what that started.)

So once I brushed off all the technicalities of writing a book – start with a hook, have a unique angle, etc., I was able to just sit down and write.

Another thing I was struggling with was the very beginning. I kept trying to start my story with my diagnosis. But that’s not really where my story began and I’ve always said that. So why in the world would I start writing my story there? Once I realized I needed to start nearly two months earlier it flowed.

Also I don’t think it had been the right time for me to write this story. As long as it had been, I don’t think I was in the right place to come face to face with some of those demons again. But there was a fear that if I waited too long I would become too subjective and the emotion wouldn’t be there to aid in my writing. Anybody who writes will tell you some of the best writing comes when you’re in a place of complete angst. I’m not sure why that is, but it’s true.

And lastly, I believe that it was God’s time for me to start. It’s so easy now to look back six years and see where God was and how He was working in all the mess. And as I wrote about my life leading up to the diagnosis with the prospective move to Pennsylvania and everything that meant, I couldn’t help but smile and praise God for what He did for us, even if I wasn’t completely aware at the time.

Now all of this may seem silly or read like mumbo jumbo to some of you. And that’s okay. But for others of you, you totally get this.

And that is my five on this rainy Friday in September. I’m off to do a little housekeeping and then start working on Chapter 2.

Adieu.

My Perfect Day

Posted on by
5

Just like the majority of the country, we’ve had record breaking heat wave after record breaking heat wave. Not only is it hot, it’s humid. I’m tired of frizzy hair, hungry mosquitos and glowing profusely. Yesterday morning while I was multitasking (waking up and showering at the same time) I started fantasizing about what my perfect day would look like.

Let me set the scene for you. It’s a Saturday morning. Or maybe it’s a vacation day. It makes no real nevermind, it just has to be a day when both kids are home and there’s no school or work or anything of the sort. The house is clean and the laundry is caught up. There are no chores that need to be done. The fridge and pantry are full of everything I’m going to need so nobody has to get out. Which is a good thing because it’s cold and rainy. Maybe even sleeting. The type of morning where nobody’s in a hurry to get up, not even the dog. Everyone stays snuggled under the covers, drowsily listening to the sleet tink against the windows.

I finally get out of bed to the smell of brewing coffee and throw on sweats, a sweatshirt and super fuzzy socks. I sure do love being able to program the coffee pot the night before. Sookie decides she might as well get up now, too, and makes a quick trip to the dark and gloomy yard while I take the peach french toast casserole I put together the night before out of the fridge and slide it into the oven.

I dry Sookie’s paws off on my way to the big, comfy chair and we settle in to wait for the family to wake up. I hunker down, cover up with a blanket and sip my coffee while Sookie curls up on the ottoman and rests her head on my feet. It’s not long before the delicious smells of breakfast start wafting their way upstairs and into the bedrooms.

Pretty soon everyone else comes downstairs in flannels or sweats or some other warm comfies and finds a place to chillax while we wait for the casserole to be done. Todd decides to fry up the bacon so we’ll have some meat with our french toast and soon we’re all sitting around the table, enjoying a delicious breakfast. Everyone cleans up while I throw the fixings for slow cooker stew in the crock pot.

The rest of the day isn’t totally planned out, but it goes something like this: we have a movie marathon – it could be Lord of the Rings or it could be Lonesome Dove, it could be any number long movies. Or maybe we feel like playing some games. Possibly we all just feel like reading. We could even do all three. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that we don’t have any responsibilities, we don’t have to go outside, we don’t even have to stay awake all day. We’re just hanging out together, all snuggly and warm-like. I think possibly Katie and I will make an apple pie during the day, too. Nothing’s better on a cold day than hot apple pie after a bowl of hearty stew. And since this is a fantasy, Todd and Taylor clean up the kitchen when we finish.

And the best part of this dream? My hair’s not frizzy, there are no hungry mosquitos and I’m not glowing profusely. A girl can dream, can’t she?

From Russia With Love

Posted on by
11

Last night was one of my not so good sleep nights. I blame it on TV and books. Let me explain.

I’m currently reading an epic war-time love story called The Bronze Horseman by Paullina Simmons. Here’s the back blurb:


Leningrad 1941: the white nights of summer illuminate a city of fallen grandeur whose beautiful palaces and stately avenues speak of a different age, when Leningrad was known as St Petersburg.

Two sisters, Tatiana and Dasha, share the same bed, living in one room with their brother and parents. It is a hard, impoverished life, yet the Metanovs know many who are not as fortunate as they.

The family routine is shattered on 22 June 1941 when Hitler invades Russia. For the Metanovs, for Leningrad and for Tatiana, life will never be the same again. On the fateful day, Tatiana meets a brash young officer named Alexander.

Tatiana and her family suffer as Hitler’s army advances on Leningrad, and the Russian winter closes in. With bombs falling and the city under siege, Tatiana and Alexander are drawn to each other in an impossible love. It is a love that could tear Tatiana’s family apart, a love that carries a secret that could mean death for anyone who hears it.

Confronted on the one hand by Hitler’s unstoppable war machine, and on the other by a Soviet system determined to crush the human spirit, Tatiana and Alexander are pitted against the very tide of history, at a turning point in the century that made the modern world.

Mesmerizing from the very first page to the final, breathtaking end, The Bronze Horseman brings alive the story of two indomitable, heroic spirits and their great love that triumphs over the devastation of a country at war.

It’s the kind of story that gets into your mind and won’t let go. The characters won’t leave me, I hold my breath as they endure the bombings and the lack of food, I’m fascinated by the culture and I’m enamoured by the beautiful images and horrified by the terrible scenes the pages paint. Lucky for me it’s the first book in a trilogy. Unfortunately, this first paper back is nearly 900 pages.

And to add to the intrigue of the book is the fact that, while the author was born in Russia, she has lived in the US since she was ten. Okay. That’s not the interesting thing. The interesting – and very frustrating – thing is that her books are NOT AVAILABLE IN THE US! What’s up with that? Or if they are, they’re usually very expensive. I was lucky enough to have a friend mail it to me, but this is the kind of book I want to call my very own.

Okay. Enough of that rant. Let’s move on.

*Edited to add – I just ordered all three books from Doubleday Bookclub. They were 20 cents each. Of course, now I’m a member of the Doubleday Bookclub. But is that so bad?*

Katie was sick yesterday so she stayed home. Gilmore Girls was on from noon until nearly 6:00. Lorelai and Rory, Rory and Lorelai, sassy banter, sarcastic wit, All.Day.Long. Not that that’s a bad thing. I’m a fan so it wasn’t a trial or anything.

The problem, however, was that I dreamt about the Gilmore Girls in Russia the entire night. I can’t even tell you any more than that. Just that the Gilmores were in Russia and were speaking with Russian accents. And then I would wake up and try to compose the blog post I was going to write about the Gilmores in Russia.

Why is it the posts I compose while I’m semi-conscious are brilliant, yet when I surface to full awareness the brilliance slips from my grasp and all that’s left is the mundane?

I Can’t Believe I Said That!

Posted on by
15

Yesterday I turned on the 5:00 news to see a horrific sight. You may have even seen it on the national news. A large, luxury condominium complex in Conshohocken was destroyed by an 8 alarm fire. Apparently it had been going on for quite some time when I started watching and by then two entire buildings were completely leveled and a third was in blazes. Thankfully the first two buildings were under construction and not occupied.

Unfortunately it went on to severely damage three occupied buildings leaving 400 people homeless. Eleven firefighters were injured, but at this time I don’t think any of the injuries are serious. It’s amazing to me that not one resident was injured in this tragic fire. Sadly, there were animals who were not able to be rescued – pets whose owners weren’t home at the time. The firefighters did manage to rescue the majority of the pets, however, and the animals are waiting to be reunited with their owners. It is heartening to know how the community has stepped up. Several hotels and private homes are taking in the displaced residents with special consideration given for pet owners.

So as I said, I turned on the TV and was greeted by these tragic scenes and do you know what came out of my mouth? I seriously don’t ever talk this way and I’m still stunned I actually said this. Taylor looked at me in obvious shock because I don’t think he’s ever heard me say something like this. As soon as I blurted it I wanted to take it back. I clapped my hand over my mouth and felt shame and not just a little embarrassment. Some of you may speak this way on a regular basis and I’m in no way judging. It was just so out of character for me and I’m a bit concerned as to what this says about me.

I said…

Are you ready…

Please don’t judge me…

I said…

Golly Gee!

Seriously! That’s what I said and I wasn’t being cutesy or silly or anything! I said it with all the feeling of terror I had in my heart!! Who talks that way??

When Taylor recovered from his shock he said in his best Eddie Haskell voice, “I know. That fire is not very neato!”

****

Channeling Sandra Dee aside, today is day four of Weight Watchers: The Senior Project to the Follow Up to the Sequel, Part VII. So far so good. I feel confident that this time, THIS TIME, I’m going to lose all the weight I gained on chemotherapy and various treatments and surgeries since then. And maybe another 10 or 15 pounds. What’s different this time? Well for one thing every morning I’ve committed my eating and exercising to the Lord and so far I’ve succeeded.

Another difference is my reward system. Every single time I’ve been on a diet (for lack of a better word) in the past I rewarded a certain amount of weight loss with a food I’d denied myself. Not so this time. This time I’m getting my hair cut after the first 15 pounds. I’m not talking about just a trim and I certainly won’t be denying myself hair color because it could take a while to lose 15 pounds and there’s no telling how many kids I would scare in the meantime. But when I hit the first 15 pound mark I’m getting my first real hair cut since it’s grown out after losing it all. I think I know how I want it cut and it’s proving to be pretty good motivation.

I did have a dream last night that I weighed in (which is kind of odd because I’m doing W.W. online and not attending meetings) and I lost 30 pounds my first week! If that were the case I could get my hair cut AND, oh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought forward to my next reward. Any good ideas?

Alright. I’m off to eat some yogurt and get in some exercise for the day.

CIAO, friends!!

More Nothing

Posted on by
17

Today was my first day back at work since spring break and the kids’ first day back to school. To say this morning was crumby is an understatement! After more than a week of sleeping late to all of a sudden getting up at 6:30 – or 5:45 if you’re Taylor – was, in the infamous words of Jeff Spicoli, gnarly, dude.

****

My family is conspiring against me to get a dog. I don’t want a dog. Don’t get me wrong. I love dogs and have had several in my lifetime. They’re wearing me down, however, and I’m pretty sure we’ll be owning one soon. As long as I’m not the one getting up in the middle of the night with it or cleaning up the backyard is all I’m gonna say.

****

I’m reading the most excellent of books! It’s called Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin. It’s a medieval (1172) mystery in the fashion of CSI – two of my favorite genres all mixed in together! Here’s the back blurb:


In Cambridge, four children have been murdered. Wrongly accused of the crimes, a small community of Jews threatened by Catholic mobs is given sanctuary by Henry II. To assist in proving their innocence, he summons an expert in the science of deduction and the art of death. She is Adelia, a prodigy from the Medical School of Salerno, and an anomaly in a medieval world, who is forced to concel her identity and her purpose from England’s grave superstitions and condemnation. One man willing to work with her is Sir Rowley Picot. His personal stake in the investigation makes him an invaluable ally – and in Adelia’s eyes, a suspect as well. From navigating Cambridge’s perilous river paths to penetrating the dark shadows of the Church, Adelia’s investigation will not only reveal the secrets of the dead, but in time, the far more dangerous ones buried by the living.

Now if I only had time to read more…

****

Tomorrow I go back for the tattoo touch ups and my first laser hair removal treatment. I’m so excited about never having to shave/Veet my underarms again.

****

Thursday is my thyroid biopsy. I’m seriously not concerned about the results. I’ve had these nodules and calcifications for at least 10 years. I AM, however, a little freaked out about the actual procedure. Todd is taking off work to go with me which means I’m getting a Venti White Chocolate Mocha out of the deal so I suppose it’s not so bad. Besides, Radioactive Girl gave me the scoop on what to expect so I know it’s not going to be as horrible as it sounds.

****

I’m listening to my iPod and 100 Years by Five for Fighting is on right now. If I listen to the lyrics it will make me cry. Not because they’re sad. They’re just, I don’t know… So very, very true.

I’m 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

I’m 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we’re on fire
Making our way back from Mars

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

I’m 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I’m a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind

I’m 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I’m heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star

15 I’m all right with you
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We’re moving on…

I’m 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

15 there’s still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day’s a new day…

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

****

I’ve become addicted to Sudoku. I hate it, but I can’t stop myself. I have to do two or three puzzles every day and then I dream about it at night. The other night it was like a cross between Hollywood Squares and the beginning of the Brady Bunch with faces and numbers or numbers and faces or something. I don’t know, but it plagued my sleep all night long.

****

I slighted Ben in my telling of how the boys scared the girls last Thursday, but only because I didn’t have all the details when I wrote that post. Ben’s part was rather devious and I believe Jesus warned about people like him. He went down to the basement and told the girls he needed to use the computer for something. Then when Taylor was scratching and knocking on the basement windows and the girls were freaking out, Ben was their hero. First he told them it was only the wind, then he said he’d go check it out and when he came back he told them it was just the wind. Nothing to be scared about. So he got them a little worked up and then lulled them into a false sense of security, priming them for Taylor’s entrance. And he seems like such a nice boy, too.

****

The girls that spent the night were my little homies. Or K Squad Unit Fresh as Taylor calls them. We had been talking about the last days of Jesus’ life the previous two weeks so Thursday night we watched The Passion of the Christ only after getting the parents’ permission. A part of me was hoping either the parents would say no or the girls would change their minds. But no such luck. And it actually turned out to be a very good thing. Intense, but good. And after the movie was over they decided to watch Hairspray. lol

****

There’s a two-inch gash on my good coffee table in the living room. Not a scratch that I could maybe rub out, but an honest to goodness gash. I just wish I knew how it got there so I could make myself feel better by blaming someone. But no one has any idea how it got there. The hand-me-down coffee table in the family room is fine. The really cheap table is fine. The good coffee table? Not so much.

****

I’m terribly behind in my bloghopping. Now that I’m feeling better and things are getting back to our regular routine, maybe I can catch up. But right now I think I’ll go take a little nap…

Whiny Wednesday

Posted on by
22

I still feel like ca-ca, though less than I did yesterday. I took Nyquil last night and had drug-induced dreams of Anne of Green Gables arguing with me about sudoku puzzles. If that doesn’t make for a fitful sleep I don’t know what does.

The kids ditched me today for their friends. I can’t imagine why they would rather play with buddies instead of hanging out here, listening to me blow and watching me fall asleep in the chair. But whatever.

I finally managed to do a little grocery shopping yesterday, but before I could put the food away I had to clean out the fridge. I pulled out six or seven containers of some kind of ancient consumable and placed them on the counter so I’d have room for the good, edible food I had just purchased. After that I needed a nap so I just left the crud on the counter. When I went up to bed at 8:30 last night they were still sitting on the counter but I didn’t have the energy or the care to do anything with them. This morning they were suspiciously gone. And I can’t find the containers which leads me to the conclusion that Todd didn’t actually empty them, but rather he threw them away. Not just the mystery matter inside, but the actual containers. Some of them were really good containers. But do I care? Not really. Because caring takes energy and I have none.

Which is why the wreck of a house I’m existing in doesn’t bother me. I’m just looking forward to my date with Nyquil tonight and hope I don’t dream about a vicious red head with a penchant for number puzzles.

**Addendum**

I have confirmation that yes, Todd did, in fact, throw the containers away. As pertains to the house he also informed me he’s staying at the Marriott Courtyard tonight. He’s a funny guy!!

**We Interrupt Regular Broadcasting**

Posted on by
30

It’s 3:30 as I’m typing. 3:30 a.m.. A.M. as in morning. I’ve been awake since about 1:00 and the two things that keep rolling through my mind are:

1. I can’t wait for the dead of winter. If it was freezing in here I’d be blissfully bundled up, sleeping like a baby instead of flipping and flopping and trying to get each side cooled off by the ceiling fan. It’s not even that hot, but I can’t seem to get cool or comfortable.

2. All that’s left is a band of gold… I can’t get that stupid song out of my head.

I tried reading, but that didn’t do any good. So then I picked up a financial budgeting book thinking that would bore me into somnolence, but obviously that didn’t work, either. It just made me want to check my bank balances.

So I’ll tell you about my Thursday and hope this post will make sense by the light of day. Then again this is me we’re talking about. My well-rested, caffeinated self doesn’t always make sense. What makes me think my blurry-eyed, muddled-headed self will?

I had to see the nurse at the plastic surgeon’s office in Philadelphia this morning. At one point it took me 8 minutes to go 1 mile. Then when I pulled in to the parking deck I got behind a lady in a walker. Seriously. The woman was walking up the middle of the lane in a walker, up hill, and I couldn’t get around her. The whole stinkin’ length of the parking garage.

Surprisingly I didn’t feel aggravated. It made me laugh because it was so incredibly ridiculous. That and I wasn’t in a rush so who cared.

Oh. Also because I had a yummy mint mocha iced coffee from Wawa. Except I don’t recommend drinking it while you’re eating a Reece’s Peanut Butter granola bar. Then it just tastes like mouthwash.

Anyway, I had to see the nurse because the right side of my recent little procedure became infected over the weekend. She said that there was some breakdown, but that’s very normal. She also told me I was doing an excellent job taking care of “them” and the doctor would be pleased when I saw him for my regular follow up next Wednesday. Then she prescribed me an antibiotic.

After that I had a routine checkup with the White Russian. I had a little over two hours to kill so I hung out at Borders. Stupid, stupid girl. I ran in to buy one book. Lord John Grey and the Brotherhood of the Blade by Diana Gabaldon. Found it with no problem. And four other books I had to have as well. Dangerous Book for Boys by Conn and Hal Iggulden; Thirteen Moons by Charles Frazier; and two historical fiction books set during the English Restoration (King Charles II). The books are downstairs and, while I may be awake, I’m not in the mood to run downstairs just for the titles. But ever since I read Forever Amber I’ve been fascinated with that time period.

I seriously need to stop this madness. If I was still reading three or four books a week that would be one thing. But I only read one book the entire month of August. That’s horrible! I think part of my problem is that I need a change in genres. I do this every once in a while. I’ve been on a romance kick for a while and I love romance novels, but it’s time for a change. Thus the straight historical fiction.

And since the nurse told me I was such a good girl (or something like that) I treated myself to an iced white chocolate mocha and a chocolate cherry scone. Well, I was hungry and that was all Border’s cafe had to offer.

When I left the store I noticed a used book store across the street. Apparently it’s been there for a while, but this is the first time in over a year that I noticed it. So I filed that bit of information away for later.

Saw the White Russian and got a great report. My blood work is all within good limits. My blood pressure was excellent. The nurse and I crossed off several medications and narrowed it down to two. Well, three if you count the antibiotic I’m on. Though I’m thinking I could surely use some Lunesta tonight. Maybe we were a little too quick with that!

I promised the kids I’d stop at Hope’s Cookies after the oncologist’s visit. That’s not exactly true. What I said was, “Let’s just say I was to stop in at Hope’s Cookies after I see the White Russian, what kind of cookies would you want?” But that was close enough to a pledge for me so I bought chocolate chip for Katie, Peanut Butter Chip for Taylor and White Russian cookies for me. (It’s a theme with me, okay?)

That used book store I’d spied earlier is right behind Hope’s. So I meandered over there for a quick looksie. Guess what happened? I bought a book. I bought a beautiful leather bound copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost. I swear it jumped off the shelf and I had to catch it so as not to let it’s beautiful cover be marred from bouncing off the cement floor. Then we bonded and I had to take it home. Or something like that.

Once I got back in the car I endeavored to look straight ahead on my way home lest I be tempted by yet another book store. All this book buying is probably why I felt the need to peruse the budgeting book this morning.

Todd is out of town and Taylor was busy with school and social functions, so Katie and I went to dinner, picked up my prescription and came home to watch Steel Magnolias. Remember my comment a couple posts back about needing to schedule time for a breakdown? Not so anymore. I am cleansed! All it takes is a little Sally Field having her own meltdown after her daughter’s funeral. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

It was rather funny. Katie was laying on the love seat and I was sitting in Todd’s green chair (Yes – it’s back to being his chair) and we were both sniffling and hooty-puckering and laughing at each other all at the same time. And then when Clairee offers Ouiser (I checked the spelling on IMDB) as a punching bag we became nearly hysterical.

Good times.

Now it’s 4:05 and I have got to get some sleep. I’m interviewing for a part-time position with our church’s new preschool tomorrow. The position is 9:00 to 12:00 and I had originally thought I might like to work two days a week – Tuesday and Thursday. But when the director called me about setting up an interview she said she would love to have someone (hopefully me) all five days. But I don’t want to give up my ladies’ bible study on Friday mornings so it may turn into four days a week. We’ll just see.

If I don’t get to it tomorrow, I’ll get to the wedding and the rest of Rhode Island on Saturday. My alarm is going off in a little over two hours so I’m going to try to fill that time with dreams. Good dreams. Dreams that involve a snug sleeping bag and a cot in the frozen tundra and no bands of gold.

Until later…

Bald is Beautiful

Posted on by
20

As excited as I was to have my hair grow back after cancer treatments, I miss the smooth look every once in a while. Like when I’m laying in my bed in the middle of the night and am woken by a night sweat. Or when I’m just sitting here, minding my own business, and all of a sudden it feels like someone turned the heater on full blast. Gotta love those hot flashes.

I went through all that two years ago with chemo. Horrible, drenching night sweats and massive power surges. They felt just like the picture of solar flares looks. Then they finally went away. Well, they’re back again. Thankfully not as intense as they had been, but still annoying.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m having night sweats again, but I’ve had some strange dreams. Like last night I dreamt I was not only the Jedi Mom – kind of like dorm mom, but this was for Jedi Knights in training – but I was the Jedi Jedi Mom – meaning I was Jedi Mom to the elite Jedis. Whatever that means. But in my dream it made perfect sense. And Yoda was like the dean of the school.

I had another dream – totally different, and yet similar in its strangeness -the night before and I swore I couldn’t forget it. But I forgot it.

OH! I had another dream last night that there were vampires outside so if we left the house at night we had to put on our “vampire bling”. A long, dangly chain with a diamond encrusted cross that was about the size of a small cat, another chain with a vial of holy water, still another chain with a wooden stake attached. I don’t remember a garlic necklace, but that would have made sense.

Wonder what I’ll dream tonight. And I wonder if the crazy dreams will stop when it starts to cool off outside. Or if I shave my head again. I kind of hope not because they’re vastly entertaining.