For some reason, last night's dream had this as its refrain: a soda bread scone with dried cherries, topped with cream cheese & cherry or apricot jam.*
This morning I had a Black Forest cookie from the vending machine, but it just wasn't the same.
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* ...uh ...did I just dream of a Cream Tea?
We live near the airport, and so it's quite normal to be able to look skyward any time of day or night and see several planes lined up to land.
They usually all come from the same direction at regular intervals; and when a plane deviates from this pattern, it's always faintly alarming...
So the other night I stepped out of the house, heard a plane, and then another, looked up and saw one plane looming low on the regular flight path and then another plane, distant and tiny, so far away it looked almost like a star, on a lesser-used flight path at a much higher altitude.
Beyond that tiny plane, I saw another tiny point of light moving in the distance, then another, then another, all moving towards the airport. I tried counting, but a thin skimming of cloud made this difficult; I estimated there were about 15 planes.
What could possibly be happening at the airport that they woud have that many planes in a holding pattern at that high of an altitude? I racked my I-Am-A-Bear-Of-Very-Little brains, and tried to discern whether they were flying in any sort of formation; but they kept disappearing behind that thin skim of clouds.
And I was on the verge of stepping inside the house and saying to my boyfriend, turn on the news so we can find out whats going on, there's fifteen planes in a holding pattern above the house, and there's no formation to them that I can see, oh, except that formation which is flying in the shape of the constellation of Orion {hand~to~forehead~smack} D'OH!
Very deceiving, that thin skim of clouds...
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.
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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?
Note to self:
Must make sidebar permalink to Making A Mark... looks interesting.
I'm crazy busy at work... there have been layoffs and reduction of hours, plus (of course) an increased workload. *sigh* I miss those days when I could spend hours re-editing one single post to my heart's delight...
So you, poor reader, shall be subject to thought that I have heretofore deemed unworthy of posting. For example:
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As you all know by now, words drop into my head unannounced. What's weird about this is they're really odd words one would never normally use, unusual words I didn't realize I knew and have no reason to retain.
And for some reason, lately some of the words have been in french.
This morning, the word was Chaumière. I can't imagine why on earth that dropped into my head, unless I somehow picked up on the Académie de la Grande Chaumière by glancing at some article about Riopelle.
Previous words (english) have included:
Sidereal. Or, rather, sidereal and drusilla together with brachycome.
Tattersall (heaven only knows why tattersall would occur to me, unless it's another artistic reference).
Pindar (I suspect this points towards Pindar & Bees, which is in relation to a bee thang which would take too long to explain).
There was Bunyip and Baba Yaga, and Fritjof Capra.
Oh, and also Tregear (Mass in Cornish, anyone?).
I must take all these words, and the words from previous posts, and put them all together in one place... just to see what happens...
Utterly depressed Sunday, January 22nd; next day, read that January 23rd is "Blue Monday".
Severely sick yesterday; today, read that the first Monday in February is "Sickie Monday".
Wonder what I'm accomplishing by being a day ahead of schedule on these things.