Archive for the 'Dreams' Category

I got up fuming this morning because of a little thing. It’s always a little thing.

Some small time before I’d been sleeping peacefully, all thoughts of whitefly gone. All that remained were the dreams that carried me through the night. Beautiful fawn colored Jersey cows dressed in lederhosen floated above me, held gently aloft by hot air balloons; I was a futures broker who had just cornered the market in bull pizzles*. The cows, upon hearing the glad news, released milk colored confetti from their udders.

Freud would love it, I know.

But then I was jarred awake by someone using the toilet next to my head. Basically. It’s a small house, but we do have two bathrooms. Why? And let me tell you, it’s the little things that will drive you insane. The eroding lack of respect and regard…. because after too long a time and I will start doing the same thing. The end of care.

But right now the glass is still half full. The attrition of living together hasn’t worn us down - yet. I wonder how long it will take.

*Always looking out for my dog, even in my sleep.

My husband and I first met at his sister’s wedding in Chicago, September 1986. It was love at first sight. Or a sort of recognition. For those who don’t believe in love at first sight: we were clearly destined for each other and we both knew it in a gut wrenching, heart lifting sort of way that made us want to simultaneously reach for each other and run as fast as possible in the other direction.

Since I lived in Houston and he in Miami, he made the first trip, joining my best friend and I at the Texas Renaissance Festival. I made him miserable, he flew home.

Read more…

Up twice with Bree last night, as she had some mild form of digestive trouble. Arthur may have left too much on his plate for her to clean up or it was just one of those things.

I’m so glad that I cut the ficus on the side fence down to six feet, because it enables a clear view to the east and the clouds are usually more interesting on the beach. I was waiting for Bree and looking at the eastern clouds at 2 dark-thirty this morning when someone’s window shaker kicked on and instantly transported me back almost 40 years, to my own room in another cracker box. And my own window A/C unit.

Eerie, when that happens with such clarity. As if time was swept away and I was just entering my first year of high school. I hadn’t made the mistake of marrying the boy idiot, never sold office furniture or tape supplies. Never took clippings in a greenhouse and carted dirt from one place to another. Never Never Land.

My parents were still alive in 1972 and though life wasn’t perfect, it was still out there, all of it, just waiting for me. But, as the old saying goes… I’d only want to do it over if I knew then what I know now.

…that I’m not dead yet! But I am a dirty old woman.

A wind mitigation inspector came to the house today. No older than thirty, he was the kind of cute that stems in part from a wonderful personality. Tall, sweet. Brown eyes I could drown in. Two dogs at home, he and Bree were immediately the best of friends.

We hit it off and spoke of many things, including insurance. I licked my lips a lot and pictured running off with him for a few days.

Some days it sucks to be old.

This is how I feel this morning…

James Taylor is the single greatest singer/songwriter of the 20th century and I fell for him in 1971… While I listen to all kinds of music -from rap to classical- if I have a ‘need’, I always go back to Sweet Baby James… and I needed to hear Steamroller Blues this morning…