I haven’t been able to post for a while because, when I click in the posting area, my keyboard doesn’t appear on my phone. I’m really weary about downloading the word press app on my phone because of potential problems. I received a weird notification in my fall leaves post and once I looked at it I couldn’t post after that. I just got on a regular computer and found a way to delete it and I’m going to try again. I’m to new at this to really know what’s going on. But, I’m going to give it a try. I just got accepted into my college, and also just got my taxes in. I’m ready to sign up for classes and I’m so excited. Everything is falling into place. I can’t wait to start writing and getting the ball rolling. YaY!!!
Today I saw the first sparkle of snow in the air. My little boy didn’t believe me. I shouted “Buddy, look in the air, see the snow falling? “
“No, it’s just little bubbles mom!” he replied.
The thought had never occurred to me before. How awesome would it be to rain tiny bubbles, like the bubbles in a glass of wine and floating through the air, thick as a blizzard and completely harmless! The forecaster would say, “Partly sunny today with a chance of bubbles!”
It’s a child’s dream to make bubble men in the back yard instead of snowmen. It would be like pouring a hot tub full of bubble bath so thick they invade the neighbors yard.
The thought occurred to me that we spend our childhood jumping in to things. We go from snowbanks, to pools, to leaf piles, and haystacks, and then can be so afraid to do anything like that when we get older. Some people forget how to live and get old and bitter. I don’t care so much as to think of what other people think of me, so long as we are happy.
Every year it’s the same thing, a hurricane coming up the coast and everyone pulling out their boats. I just barely keep up with raking the leaves, and finally give up. After two or twenty nights and days of brisk October westerly wind the trees start to let the moonlight back upon the ground. It sure lightens my mood to see that big yellow globe bursting her aura through the empty branches. The days get shorter but the sunsets are more spectacular since the orange hues aren’t blocked by the thick Maple trees. Since most of the summer residents have gone the Maples no longer need to serve as a privacy hedge. I dump barrels of leaves into the chicken pen where they are yet again appreciated. The girls play queen of the leaf pile mountains and still don’t lay eggs. My son continuously plows through raked piles himself. I would never give him hell for that. I usually join him. I know snow is coming soon.
I’m having a personal space issue lately. I can’t seem to get a second to myself so I told the family we were going to the beach. Puppies old dogs husband children and me sand flying everywhere into every thing and every crack. I sat my butt in cold sand with old dog, hoping for a little moment. I watched the horizon and tried to send out a silent prayer but I couldn’t even get that finished before sand puppies children and husband go zooming by blasting the moment with confusion and balls seaweed and laughter. Back and forth up and down round and round and into the ocean. Wet puppies covered with sand. Johnny screaming at the top of his lungs. I’ve seen the days more fascinating than this many times. There was a fairly good surge moving and the pup kept falling in. Good humor. But now that we’re home every one is settled down.
Last nights dream rearranged the back pasture into a marshland. In the center of that stood a ramshackled old chicken house, which I entered. It consisted of shed after shed falling over, but interconnected. As I stumbled through them and over piles of hay I finally found piles of tiny eggs the size of those chocolate foil wrapped ones that you get on Easter. There were also larger eggs with natural paisley designs from a special type of chicken. Unfortunately there was a terrible polluted runoff coming from either my house or a neighbors. It was polluting the marshland with some kind of sludge. I felt terrible but then my dream changed to something different and later I woke up.
Everything you see here is true and factual,
Even if it sounds a little supernatural.
it’s old ancient knowledge we pull from the heart,
older than anything we ever forgot,
a dream is real and a dream is not.
What do we seek in our great unconscious flow?
Dreams are windows to mysteries we may never know.