In the last days I have gotten to facetime a fellow blogger (JOY!), baked and discovered a single ingredient changes the outcome (I’ll share that later), fallen on icy steps (my back hurts so much this Monday), and remembered another dream.
The fall was horrible. I woke up on Sunday feeling not so great, but by the time I got dressed, I was much better. I admit, I was wearing a very cute blue and white striped short skirt and oversized white sweater with blue and white paper beads from Ethiopia and earrings from Alaska (white ivory dangles with forget me nots painted on), so that helped me feel great. I had gotten on a pair of nylons (I think I lost a few calories in that exercise!) and had on new blue comfy Sketchers. I had thought about dressier shoes, but figured I’d better not risk it. (Thank God, I wore the comfy ones!!!) I confidently strode out onto the porch, then off the doormat onto the deck, and slipped like a take in a Laurel and Hardy film. Except it wasn’t that funny. I was crumpled on the steps, managed to finally gingerly get up, balanced my way back to the door, and discovered I’d ripped open a knuckle. I then determined I was NOT going to go to church, I’d wait for the kid to wake up for Sunday School. Most of Sunday I felt ok, but this is late on Monday and I feel like I’ve been dragged behind a Zamboni! (OK, not quite that bad, but I do hurt!) Thankfully, I can sit up straight in a favorite old kitchen chair and it only aches most of the time.
My dream was on Saturday morning. I hope it doesn’t take up too much post, it was fascinating in a way and I recalled quite a bit of it. Reading comments from my other dream..they make sense. Trapped and taking care of things and wanting release of some kind. I’m going to write down those response and the ones to this one and see what I can make of them. I’d think about a journal, but well, I’m doing that! Lol
This dream was full of youth as well. Except these were all young adults. Although we were outside in a camping situation, this one was more of a science study station. It was a change of a season, possibly winter? Many of us were leaving the station, I was one of those. We were on a beach shore and needed to take a small boat to a larger vessel that would ferry us to our final destination. The small craft could only carry one passenger. (No, I hadn’t been watching an ocean documentary!)
The man in the small boat reminded me of a nice tall thin man from the Oregon Coast. He had a dry sense of humor and was a good friend. He arrived in a canoe and said we had to cross a chasm. I remember asking if there were life jackets aboard. He replied, ‘No’, but that was a good idea. He went off to look for some. But, the next thing I knew, I was alone in the canoe with all my gear, traveling across grey stormy water with no life jacket!! Oddly, I did make sure my camera was nearby because as terrified as I was, I might have a chance to get some good pictures.
When I got to the chasm, it wasn’t what I had imagined. I had figured it would be a deep darkness of wave with foaming water walls with my craft climbing the side like something from Deadliest Catch (Alaskan TV series about crabbing). Instead, the chasm was a deep abyss of nothing and I was almost on a ledge of water on the side. I remember scarcely breathing, huddled against the metal side of the canoe as it slowly traveled along the ledge, like a moving sidewalk of water. Across the chasm, there were waves and it seemed like glass was holding the water out of the darkness. Yet, I noticed a humpback whale swimming in the grayish wall. I carefully inched my camera out and snapped photos as I gripped the side of the canoe. I could hear music in the water. There was greenish white light, but it was magic in the midst of my terror of being trapped or lost or whatever it was.
I reached a dock of sorts. Wet steps leading somewhere up. It wasn’t where I was supposed to be, but it wasn’t in a canoe in water! I crawled out of my boat, secured it, and climbed the ancient looking stair. They went into what seemed to be an abandoned cabin resembling a ship. I called out and opened doors leading into closets. (one of them had a sign on the door marked similar to something from the Wonka chocolate factory!) I opened one that went into a cheery, masculine library and a voice behind me asked what I was doing. It was a grizzled sea captain sort and I told him I was a bit lost and my name. He then seemed to know exactly who I was. He said I’d missed a turn, he’d call for me to be picked up, and would I like a cup of tea. I stared out of the windows and saw where I had started and the larger boat waiting beyond the island I was now on. Bewildered, I woke up still hearing whale song off in the distance. I never did get the tea!
The very oddest part of this dream was The Craftsman. For some reason we actually got to talk to each other after I woke up. Earlier in the week, I had worn a pink and black tank top to bed and he mentioned I had on a nice shirt. Encouraged, I decided to try and talk- if there was a chance. It was like pulling teeth. Why can I talk to others and not him??? (NOTE: I find out about the tooth on Tuesday morning.) In the short discussion, it turned out he felt inadequate because he doesn’t stay as erect as he once did. (Now, I have no idea where he got that idea. Size and what not have never been important to me. Turn me on with your touch or words and I melt like butter in summer sunshine. What is between the legs isn’t near as important as what is between the ears! It is interesting, but not as important!) Then, he said about sex ‘I always want it, but I don’t like to do it.’ Startled, I asked for clarification and found he thought I always wanted sex and he didn’t feel up to it and was letting me down and wanted it because I did.
So, I finally learned some things. I also know he’s done a bit of self-pleasuring of his own. The unopened box of condoms from ages past has two left and there is a tube of astrolube on his side of the headboard. I also know I need to be less interested in intimacy that ends up an actual penetration of any sort and be more content with petting. When I was in Alaska, I did experience more..hands on?.. intimacy. Perhaps that is the distant whale song I hear?