Stuff and Dreams

First, I reckon I need to share the funny thing in the recipe. If you read the directions, early on you are told to combine flour and salt and baking soda and then to set it aside. It doesn’t have a direction to add it later. You add egg and the chips (PB chips are available, I used them once in a recipe with chocolate cookies) and other ingredients to the dough, but not the flour mixture. Being a person who is sort of meticulous in following directions (which is funny, I also tweak a recipe to my own taste! But, I first follow it as written.), I kept reading it over knowing something was not right. It just took a while to find it! I think I finally had to read it aloud.

The second thing I wanted to write about was an actual sleeping dream. I daydream all the time. I doze dream (where you are mostly awake, but too cozy to actually get moving from your position in the sun or on the couch or wrapped in blankets). Dreams are odd things. Usually I don’t recall what I dream, most of the time those things I do remember are confusing, and rarely are they scary. (I have remembered scary ones. I do NOT like being chased!) Sunday morning I had a doozy of a dream! I wrote down as much as I could. I didn’t eat ‘an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato’ (A Christmas Carol) before going to sleep and I slept for AGES! (I took a nap about 830 pm and found myself sleeping til my 1030 shot. I woke for maybe a half an hour and didn’t rise til after 8 am!) I was so out of sorts, I moved over to The Craftsman to be held. Which was another unusual bit of the morning. So, let me explain and if you have any ideas on what this might mean, please tell me!!

Photo by Karyme França on Pexels.com

One of my very best friends from High School was a main feature in this dream. We were grownups, mostly. (you know dreams. At one point we were adult, in another we were older teens. I have not seen RC in decades!) His dad was dying, but not really. He was in a bed and ill, but not dying. Although, we were told he was. The dream was in a huge coed camp with housing units and a lake and lots of uniformed youth. The two of us were holding hands while we were with his dad. At one point RC said, ‘We are out of the closet.’ I think he was talking about us being a couple. Something we never were, but always thought we should have been. (in fact, he was my first kiss—I think I wrote about that in here somewhere—and my first not quite skin to skin intimacy. I say ‘not quite’ because we were more like kittens rolling around in a basket than anything else!) He was only in the part with his dad and then, he vanished.  Anyway, in another part of the dream I was on a bus full of girls. The back of the bus had several rows of clique girls and my things were in the very back seat. I had to wade past them twice to retrieve all my belongings. The stares of those prissy females in immaculate uniforms were awful!!! I remember the camp being different than photos I had taken of the place a couple of years before, I was looking at those photos when I was sitting in the front of the bus. I remember being horrified when watching some crazy rite of passage stunt thing where boys sleeping on levels of a platform like a giant ladder were plunged into deep water and pulled back up. I also got lost. I was in a basement bathroom area and it turned out it was the men’s section and I couldn’t find a way out. Every stair I went up ended up somewhere I didn’t want to be. The bathrooms and shower curtains were that awful sea green color from the 70s.

I mentioned I was disturbed when my alarm went off just before 8 and moved over to be next to The Craftsman. I needed to check my glucose, take my insulin, and most importantly, pee, but was too nervous at the moment. I woke him and did get held before he went back to sleep. I was not sleeping and didn’t want to move because he doesn’t sleep much. Eventually, I remembered something one of my good friends once told me. (I actually have this written down where I see it every day) He said something like, ‘Dear one, no one will care more about your health than thou.’ So, about 10 after 8, I pulled myself away from the fabric covered embrace (I had on a tank top and panties, he was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and I was too warm under his chin.) and got on jammies in case I ran into our son and left the room.

My glucose was very good. I was still very bothered by the dream. I felt rather well and even wore a long skirt with moderate heels to church. It was interesting. The part of the message I wrote down above where I jotted my dream notes was this. Apparently eons ago there was a machine to make in house rotisserie chicken. The creator coined this phrase for his product, ‘Set it and forget it.’ (I don’t remember this commercial, I do remember some jingles!) Anyway, our pastor mentioned this doesn’t work in relationships. All you end up doing is spinning in the heat and getting burned. It was a rather sobering thought. Because of that message, I’ve written more emails this week than usual. I’ve texted and sent out real letters. I don’t want to be a rotisserie friend!!! Spicy or flavorful, but not one who forgets. (OK, these last sentences are loaded with puns, aren’t they…ouch!)

Confidence?

In ‘The Sound of Music’, Maria dances up to the Von Trapp house singing a song about confidence. I am a great fan of this musical (Actually, anything done by Julie Andrews is wonderful!) and I wish this song was me. Although, I think going up to a house with seven children as a nanny would be less stressful than living with my mum. Here, I am in reality 52 years of age and about 17 in her eyes!!! Oh, she twigs me often about my being over 50 and then pairs it with comments about my behavior or weight. (If I really was 17, my Daddy would be here. I miss him so much! Also, if I was 17, I’d be dating a super neat guy and not realizing how the future would be and I’d be 98 pounds and flexible and minus Diabetes…. Nope, I’m better off now.—-wait, 98 pounds, Diabetes free, and flexible would be nice! And I wonder where Ken is???)

I’m also not entirely confident in my own household in Oregon. I go out of my way to not make waves, no matter where I am. Fighting is absolutely something I will not do. I rarely let anyone see me cry. In Oregon, I’m mostly angry at myself or Little Bear for not doing something (he really does need to learn how to pick up after himself on a regular basis!). I am often submissive in my attitude toward The Craftsman in his being in charge of finances or how my kitchen will look or yard or whatever. I’ve learned it isn’t really that big of a deal to state what I want, it mostly doesn’t happen anyway! He’s not dominant, he’s a cupcake (remember that scene in ‘Ghostbusters’ when Ray thinks up ‘Mr. Stay Puft’? Yup, that is my spouse. A giant marshmallow. He has even accidentally set things on fire before…..). He’s an only child and I’m the eldest. Birth order is more important than people realise!

Being confident is akin to how one reacts to being a bother. I’ve written about being a bother before. It has been brought home to me this last week, again. Yes, I get things done. Those things no one else will do or little things to help bring others comfort. They are appreciated and I am thanked and life goes on. It is so silly to want more.

In one of my favorite books (Do remember, almost every book is a favorite!), there is a scene where the main character remembers how the family cat brought in more mice when it was petted. I want petted a bit, even if it is selfish. Same author wrote this in a different book, “One may have all that one needs, and still not have all that one desires.” J. Mallory and M. Lackey. How do I learn to be content with what I have and not want more????

The Craftsman texted me on Saturday night. Usually, he calls. I was a bit concerned cuz I he hadn’t. I shouldn’t have been. He had spent the day doing chores and watched a long classic movie. (He did tell me he loved me and wished me a good night.) He generally texts me that every other night or so. It is about the only time I hear from him, unless he calls. I don’t call him often. He is usually busy and I hate sharing a phone call with a movie or a person or a project or Moses. (Ok, I don’t mind sharing with Moses, cats are pretty selfish, too!) He started texting me those every other good night texts in May. I need to remember how I used to not even get those! He tells me he thinks of me often and he likes it when I text him. (I do text, even if I don’t call. After 3 or 4, I usually stop when I don’t get a response. I also send emails once in a while and cards or notes every so often. I should do more. In Oregon, I am always putting notes or treats in lunches or in cars or under pillows. I’m sure it is missed with me not there this last year or more.) I know he contacts me when he has time.

Mum is mad at me. She’s been doing quite a bit of her own care the last 36 hours. She has bitched about wanting to do things on her own, so I decided to finally let her. When I went to explain this to her and tell her I was thinking I’d leave after her oral surgery in December (I’ve been in the basement 95% of the day), she was indignant and asked me if I was going to drop her.  She’ll never ever admit to needing help, she resents it, but won’t ask for it. She was going to take a shower this afternoon and didn’t. Because I wasn’t there. (The last two showers she has had, I didn’t know about til she was almost done!) She called down her last glucose reading and said she had an ensure beverage. I was confused. Her glucose was 180. She said it was too low to do much, even drive! I know, for a fact, she has driven with a glucose of less than 90 and said she was fine and that 180 is fairly high. I did remind her I needed the car on Monday, she told me she didn’t need it and would let me use it. She also said I had my own life and needed to do what I should. (she uttered those words with a sorrowful tone and Monday will be spent doing mom chores. As usual.) On one hand she wants to be left alone and the other one says she doesn’t want me to leave!

I think I’m an attention slut. I know I’m needed, I know it is noticed, and I know it would be missed. It isn’t necessary to be petted all the time. Boston Ferns only need a little water and some sunshine to thrive. I’m just as good as one of those!

Laughing out loud! Then, I run across this quote and realise how absolutely silly I am, this blog is, and how I need to focus on others: “,,, let go of the real source of our unhappiness: our own self-obsession. Stress, loneliness, pessimism, financial worries, and unhappy relationships all have one thing in common: they’re all about “me”.”  David Michie

Do you know?

If you need to jump your car, you do NOT hook up the leads backwards. If you have batteries in your camera or flash, they don’t work if they are not positioned correctly. There is a definite difference between positive and negative. Yet, I was talking to a receptionist today and we stumbled into a phrasing swamp. I mentioned to her that I had heard mum’s biopsy report was positive, which is a  negative thing. Yet, if it had been negative, that would have been a positive. So, it was bad that it was good???  How on EARTH did language jump from positive and negative being well, good or bad to mixing them up?????

This tune from ‘My Fair Lady’, doesn’t really have much to do with the oddity of positive and negative, but it is great fun!

How Annoying

WordPress is annoying. Which is really rather funny, too. I almost always have good rapport with WP Happiness Engineers and the blogging platform. This glitch, however, is so frustrating it is driving me bonkers! When I log into this particular blog, on the right is a ‘bell’ with notifications. (most of  us see this when we log into WP) Well, I can READ those comments made, but I cannot respond to any of them from the notification bar. The only way to do this is to scroll thru the reader posts to find the post/blog commented on and open it up and scroll thru the comments to find the one pertaining to me. I find this cumbersome. Especially, as some of those comments are several posts down!! Thus, if you have missed me (I am sure you have, I am such an exciting and thrilling poster!–laughing out loud here!!), it is because I am trying to figure out how to respond to you. Perhaps I need to polish my telepathic powers!!!!

I guess it is a good thing I am online so much today. 

 It is much too cold to go outside and garden in the buff!!! I’ve always wanted to do this, but it has never quite managed to happen. The first Saturday in May, in the little town I normally live in, is super busy with city wide clean up and even with my fenced in yard, it would be impossible to do much without being completely covered. I had hoped to sneak out in mum’s yard. There are some things which need weeded, but today is COLD! Not breezy cold like yesterday, but overcast and  aching in my aged bones cold. If I do go outside, I will probably have on jeans and a zip up hoodie.

See, staying in front of the laptop and laboriously scrolling thru posts and blogs to find places where I have communicated with my favorite peoples is much more attractive! (although, I am having trouble with the ‘r’ on my keyboard, too. Most of the time it works, but not when I use it in a response!!!) 

Good morning!

It is just after 7am. I let the dog out, Mum got up, and is feeling chipper. She had a blood sugar of 70, I fed her, got her most of her meds (still need to give her a shot), and she thinks she looks ‘not too bad’ and might go to church. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck, I have a headache, and it stopped raining.

I did forget to tell you all the oddest thing from last night. I texted my sister to let her know mum was being taken to the ER. She responded by asking if I had mum’s dog or should she go out and get him. I was very confused. I mentioned that we were only going to the ER and if mum stayed,  I’d be going back to the house. In another text, she asked if I wanted her to bring popcorn. 

She fell to pieces

 I know dreams are more than likely “an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato.” (Charles Dickens)  I know in ‘White Christmas’ Bing Crosby related different sandwiches to kinds of women he’d dream about. Dreams can come from a number of things.  For me, I did have mustard and cheese yesterday, so they could be the reason mine was so odd. It was short. More of a scene than a dream, but I was sleeping and it woke me. I was on the step of mum’s house, bidding her goodbye. Everything seemed to be doing great and she was well. I told her since she was fine, I was going to go back to Oregon. I hugged her and as I hugged her she crumbled like paper. Or more like an old plastic doll when the legs and arms pop off. It wasn’t gross, but it was startling. She fell to pieces right in my arms! 

Today wasn’t one of her better days. 

Need an attitude adjustment!

 Bunny boots are an Alaskan thing. They are not boots with rabbits in them, but this photo is particularly cute! I am sharing it cuz when I sent off the boxes of Easter treats, I thought it was cute. And a mom thing. Well, it was a mom thing. I just need to remember that mom’s…well…we are often just the mom. Sometimes we expect one thing, only to find it might really be something else. Or is it? 

 Monday evening I got a text from the VA kid who calls often. ‘I got the box.’ Tonight, I get a text from my spouse saying pretty much the same thing and that he’d call later. He did. He said on the phone it had arrived and the younger son was enjoying the gum. I mentioned the gum had been for him, but was reminded I had not put names on anything. The son was overheard in the background to say, ‘The ulu is mine!’ I laughed a bit, I had mentioned that in the short note I had packed in the box.  Later, after several pauses in the conversation and subject changes, my husband said ‘Thank you.’ It was in an odd place and I asked him, ‘For what?’ He replied, ‘The box.’ I said it was no problem and said I had used the debit card to mail them. Which brought the conversation back to money and I was sorry I used the card to pay part of my Alaskan phone bill the other day. (I generally use saved cash for this, but ended up needing to pay the cab guy for breaking into mum’s car)

It was odd. There wasn’t any mention of the several dozen PB chocolate chip cookies I’d packed in it or the candy or the Alaskan ice cream scoop I had purchased for him.  I am a silly girl. He did say thank you and he did call me. My attitude is in need of adjustment! 

What time does-

 1972. We were with our 3rd dad. I remember this because of the stuffed toy I am holding (I’m the older one!). We had gone to a big city to get Easter presents (probably Kenai!!). We got to choose our stuffed animals. My sister wanted the big bright bunny. I chose the little lamb, because it was missing a tail. My step dad was really surprised I wanted it, but I prevailed. Eventually, Lamby was mine and I loved it well!

The craziest thing about this photo is today. I went to church with mum this morning. It was not easy to listen to her tell people how well she is and people who told me how well she looked. They really need to stay all day with her. Mum has attended Methodist churches off and on and then finally on since we moved to Alaska. Before that we were Lutherans. I think. At any rate, when this photo was taken, we had not been attending anywhere, but the bulk of our background was Methodist. Today, my sister has recently joined the Jewish faith and I attend a Christian church (background from The Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement in the 1800’s-Long story.). My personal faith is eclectic and allows for other thoughts, ideas, and grows as I do. My mum’s. Well, she is set in her ways and is incredibly irritated with the fact her youngest daughter has tossed out anything to do with ‘traditional’ holidays and beliefs. Literally, in many cases. Although my sister has not gotten rid of her Hallmark Star Trek ornaments, she has unloaded all the other collections mum tediously purchased for my sister and her spouse and mum’s youngest grandchild. I find it unusual, but it isn’t my faith. Mum, she has gotten very upset.

My sister had thought about coming to visit mum today and asked if it would be ok. Mum asked her why she’d come over (remember: my sister has not been to visit mum since the start of March, when she brought the dog back. They live about 30 min from mum and my sister works less than 10 min away.). Sister replied it was Easter. Mum snippily responded, ‘You don’t believe in Easter anymore. What would you do here?’ In the end, she didn’t come over with the family.  Which was good in the long run. Mum was super tired. But, I was frustrated at dinner. Mum seemed almost gleeful that we were eating ham for dinner and my sister couldn’t. I asked her not to be mean and she said she wasn’t being mean, she was just saying we could eat it and they couldn’t. 

I felt sad for my sister. I look at the tiny grinning face in the photo and wish my mum could show some tolerance and empathy towards the woman she’s become. Granted, my little sister drives me bonkers in less than a parsecond, but I’m not going to constantly tear down her faith, her clothing style, her hair, her looks, or how she raises her family. It is very different, but it is really none of my business. (it does provide a bit of fodder for good stories, though!) 

Experiments and Recipes

In the ‘Kamasutra-by Vatsyayana’ there are chapters on experiments and recipes. At the close of each chapter there is a variation of these words, ” No means should be tried with are doubtful in their effects, which are likely to cause injury to the body…” and so on.

Here is one of the ‘experiments’ mentioned. “When a man wishes to enlarge his lingam, he should rub it with the bristles of certain insects that live in trees, and then after rubbing it for ten nights with oils, he should again rub it with the bristles as before. By continuing to do this a swelling will be gradually produced in the lingam, [175] and he should then lie on a cot, and cause his lingam to hang down through a hole in the cot. After this he could take away all the pain from the swelling by using cool concoctions.” Apparently, this swelling lasts for life. No name was given for the bristly insects.

Also mentioned are ways to ‘get a woman’. There is a sprout from a vajnasunhi plant, which can be dried and mixed with monkey excrement. When thrown on a maiden, this will ensure she is not given in marriage to anyone else. If you want to subject a woman to the man’s will, it is encouraged he anoint his lingam with a mixture of powdered white thorn apple, long pepper, black pepper, and honey. Then he must engage in sexual union with the woman. Although, if you apply the remains of a kite who has died a natural death, ground into a powder and mixed with cowach and honey, it has the same effect!

These treatments are from chapters 31 and 32 in the book by Vatsyayana. Solomon once said, there is nothing new under the sun, I reckon he was right! 

Just Hanging.

This caught my eye today. I was not sure if it looked erotic, creepy, or just gross!!!! I am starting to think it is rather alien like…..