Archive | May, 2017

Haunted Toy Factory

29 May


I had a dream about what appeared to be a lot of poltergeist activity in a toy factory. It was in different rooms, all with white walls. All the toys were orange and/or white (apparently a theme at the company). In one room, specific stuffed toy animals moved around and talked. In another, beach balls were bouncing by themselves and bonking staff on the head.


Dream of a Flood

26 May


I had a dream in which I was staying with a lot of people in what must have been a big house. I lived in one section of the house–I had my own bedroom and i think several other rooms to myself.

There was a huge flood while rain poured down, and the water rose higher and higher.

I was with a young woman and a young man, who I think were both white, and we were doing some sort of project (I was just mimicking what they did) that involved tall glass bottles or glasses and sticks and I think a potion of some sort. I think it was clear like water. I followed them outdoors with some of the mossy sticks, which we put inside the glassware so that the sticks were sticking up out of them.

Outside, the back yard looked like the second one with which I grew up. It was not raining then, I think, and I observed how the young couple took their glasses full of sticks and hid them in various places, such as under a tree. I followed suit, heading much further down the yard, into floodwater, because I didn’t want to hide my glassware and sticks too close to them. The yard went further than my parent’s and had a swimming pool far down but on a plateau. Or maybe the pool instead of the old swing set was on the real plateau.

In some places, I waded in two-foot water, even though I was wearing a yellow vintage 1950s dress I used to have. I enjoyed being in the water and found myself floating and realized that I really wanted to change into a swimsuit and swim in the pool and/or the flooding. The couple seemed like they had forgotten me and were far off doing their own thing. I was sure they wouldn’t miss my company.

A little blond girl from next door was running and splashing in her yard and maybe ours, and I thought she had the right idea. I may have splashed around quite a bit myself before telling myself that I really needed to go get in my swimsuit.

Inside, I may have watched more rain come down, because the flooding became more extreme. I stood before the back window of my old bedroom and opened the window to try to see more clearly how deep the flooding was. I brushed aside the curtains–diaphanous blue and white curtains like when that was my bedroom–and looked out the window. The little neighbor girl ran past my window and gave me a brief glare, as though she thought I was spying on her and being creepy, so I hastily closed the window and got behind the curtains. (Now that I’m awake, I think she was the one being weird, not me, since she was acting like our yard was hers.)

I felt shy and self-conscience because of that look she gave me, and I thought I might want to wait until she was no longer out there before going out in my swimsuit.

At some point in the dream, I was back inside, and it at least seemed like I had a kitchen to myself, especially since I was going through the fridge and throwing out stuff that the family who owned the house had left and that had expired. However, before long others came in to use the kitchen, I think the same kitchen. At this point I was holding a plastic bag containing 4 white onions that seemed rather clear and I was trying to decide whether they were edible or not. A small East Asian guy came into the kitchen and cooked something differently than I thought it was supposed to be cooked. I thought of saying something, but I didn’t want to offend him.

Soon one of two Hispanic brothers (adults) came in, and he put a bag of onions–I think a plastic bag–directly onto a burner and turned it on.  (Earlier in the dream, I think we all sat at a large table and there was a lot of talking, though I don’t think I did any of it, and the elder brother more than once said this brother’s name, something with an r, maybe Rodrigo.) He was cheerful and easygoing, and I was baffled at how he was cooking and stood there staring at the stove top while still holding my small bag of onions. The East Asian guy also seemed alarmed, because he came into the kitchen for an instant and shifted the top of the onion bag so that it wouldn’t get in the flames.

There was the sound of pans toward the end of the dream…and I awoke to hear the voices and pans of the yard sale across the street (which I haven’t gotten to yet).

Interiors and Dreams

20 May

I had a dream in which there was a sale of items from the television show Sherlock. It was in a big building like a school, and there weren’t many people there. It was the tail end of the sale–well, I think it was over, but I found some stuff, including a couple of old-fashioned rattles that in the reality of the dream I remembered Sherlock playing with. And in that reality, I was picturing how Sherlock oddly had a study way underground. Watson had a big room underground, and a ladder descended further down to Sherlock’s study.


I dreamed that I was at the house where I grew up, and my mother was there being a brat. Five cats lived there and were excited because a badger was in the house. I saw it 3 days in a row before telling my mother. By then, we had been at my old school, and she was strangely resentful because the school no longer had a particular beverage. She was taking it out on me, which pissed me off so that I blew up at her, but she acted as though she didn’t notice, which pissed me off more. I was attempting to prepare to go to the airport, because Francis was going to be there, and I went into my bedroom and couldn’t figure out what to wear. There was a big box in my old bedroom, and it was overflowing with clothing, and while my mother was yelling out something, I picked a colorful skirt and slipped into it. I was wearing a t-shirt and didn’t know what top to wear.

I may have heard noises in the room next to mine, what was ultimately the library, and I went in there. The room was very cluttered. I found three cats…and an extra one that looked black and turned out to be a badger. So I finally told my mother, and she acted like it was no big deal–or she wasn’t listening.

Waking to Cats

18 May



I awoke to Virginia bathing my feet and Gabriel massaging my lower back. Kitty spa.

Now that I’m recovering from The Worst Virus in History, I’m feeling human again. Now and then, however, I still have horrible coughing fits. Having taken a break from life to rest and hack up phlegm, I’m ready to get back into writing and home improvements. Er, the home improvements can, well, start tomorrow.

Thoughts on the New Anne of Green Gables Adaptation

17 May

The article below pretty much describes my impression of the new Anne tv series. I was impressed with the scenery and houses and costumes, and Marilla and Matthew were as I imagined them. However, I remember the book as quirky and hilarious, not dark and dismal. I tried to be open-minded, but urgh.

We live in dark, dystopic times, and so much of literature, film, and television nowadays reflects that. Dystopia is extremely popular, as is the darker sides of the supernatural. So are dark adaptations, such as Emerald City (based on Oz). But taking something as charming, delightful, and whimsical–and a children’s book, at that–and turning it into such a dark story, even giving Anne Shirley PTSD, strikes me as practically sacrilegious.

This tv series took situations that in the book were humorous and transformed them into the most melodramatic potential extreme. For instance, when Marilla can’t find her heirloom brooch, she threatens to send Anne back to the orphanage…and actually sends her off before she finds the brooch. When she does find the brooch, Anne is already on her way to the orphanage, and Matthew goes on a frantic search for Anne, who can’t bear returning to the orphanage and runs away. It takes days for Matthew to find her.

In reaction to this disappointing remake, I just started reading Anne of Green Gables (though I read it many times decade ago), and it’s as humorous and quirky as I remember.
L. M. Montgomery’s Emily of New Moon is darker than Anne, but it’s not a gothic nightmare, either.

The new adaptation of “Anne of Green Gables” falls prey to the war on whimsy, the tired modern tactic of reworking the classics in order to make them “realistic.”

Ginger, not Peachy

12 May

A cup–or endless cups–of hot ginger lemon tea is the best thing for a sore and/or congested throat.

I’ve been slicing ginger root and squeezing lemons, and the flavor is so much stronger if you make it from scratch than if you use teabags. (I know because today I found ginger teabags in my kitchen and tried one. I also found pumpernickel pretzels, which I’m sure will be delicious when I’m feeling better.)

The Department of Illness and Human Disservices

2 May

I had a respiratory infection for much of April and otherwise was wrapped up in intensive novel writing with a little help from Camp NaNoWriMo, so I took a break from politics for a month. But I’m back, and here’s my latest letter to my senators and representative:

Dear Senator,

Donald Dump has nominated yet another deranged moron, Teresa Manning, to the Department of Health and Human Services, which apparently needs to change its name to the Department of Illness and Human Disservices.

Manning wrote a “pro-life” book (in other words, misogynistic and unscientific propaganda), ludicrously claiming that birth control doesn’t work and that abortion causes breast cancer; these are both absurd lies. She doesn’t respect women’s right to control their own bodies and dishonestly pontificates to convince the gullible into agreeing with her about taking away reproductive rights. This fool should not oversee our nation’s health.

This latest lunatic appears to be a cisgender female, which translates as a privileged, wealthy, white man trapped in a woman’s body who had her tubes tied.


Please do all you can to prevent this latest extremely unqualified nominee from getting the position.