Old post, never posted; posting now in lieu of any actual life.
Last night's dream:
(It seemed important at the time)
I was walking down a street when I noticed that a bookstore I liked had gone out of business... or, at least, through the window by the front door I could see there was nobody at the cashier's desk.
When I looked in the window into the body of the shop, however, I could see there were people in there and the shelves were half-emptied out; and I thought there might be a possibility it was still open for its final clearout sale.
So I went in. There were no sale prices on the stuff, and I figured one would just haggle at the caisse; but I pretty broke, and I was too embarassed to even try.
There were a few books on Women's Social History of Textiles which had some lovely fabric samples in them; I opened one book and out spilled a bolt of soft light wool tartan, pale green & cream with thin orange lines. There were some old tattered & dusty grey books on cats (an incomplete series). There were lots of other books whose contents I no longer remember. They were all very, very interesting; but there was nothing I really needed, and so I couldn't really justify getting any of them.
But I so wanted to buy something just for the sake of it.
The store was "L" shaped; and in the back of the store {isn't it always in the back of the store?} there was a part which dealt with junk & antiques. Again, interesting stuff but nothing I needed. Still, I really wanted to get just one thing...
Then I saw a really cool black wooden walking stick.
The head was the shape of a heraldic (medieval?) stylized "lion". The body of the stick was a bit like an elongated clawfoot one might see on a bathtub, or perhaps it might be better described as a clawfoot table leg. The proud curve of the table leg was the chest of the beast (much like a seahorse), and of course the clawfoot was the base where the cane tapped the floor. Unlike a table leg, its mane/chest area had lots of protuding triangular "scales" which stuck out by maybe about a half an inch.
It also had, I suddenly noticed, four little wooden arms - two on each side - which were attached to its chest by metal rings on the shoulders, so they were articulated and swung fairly freely
They were willing to sell it to me for about $70.
I noticed on the tiny dangling price tag {written in those precise and elegant curliqued numbers often seen on price tags dangling from antiques} that the original price of the cane was something like $525, or maybe $595.
I didn't have the cash on me; but they did have interac.
~ ~ ~
And then, of course, I woke up before I could buy it.
It seemed the perfect thing; though I wonder now how it could have seemed so ~ why would I need a walking stick? Even if it is charmingly grotesque.
But apparently, that's what I need.
(Could it be that my subconscious is telling me shopaholism is just a crutch?)
Interpretations, anyone?
Posted by edgar at February 8, 2006 11:07 AM