Daddy

I dreamed about Daddy. He visited us from Heaven. Mom had remarried and the other  man, nice as he was, just wasn’t as clever as Daddy. We were discussing some problem on the farm and Mom had mentioned she wished she could remember what it was Bud had said about this problem. She was explaining the invention he had made, and how in his later years just couldn't accomplish it because he was on 12 liters of oxygen. He just didn't have the energy anymore. She had just said this and we were all regretting not paying better attention when Daddy walked in and sat down, like it was a normal thing to do. Then he began explaining his solution. He was talking in his usual  technical, yet understandable manner, exactly what he meant. He grabbed a piece of paper, and began drawing the item he had planned to make.  I don’t remember the problem we were discussing, or Daddy’s solution. I wish I could. 

Daddy was such an intelligent and talented man. He could sit down and draw a blueprint on any scrap of paper, or on an official blueprint page. He once sent me a blueprint he had especially drawn for me of a bunk bed when I wanted to build one. His fine art skills were self taught and perfect. He never got a degree, yet he worked as a draftsman for Ball Brothers, and later was hired at NCAR (National Center for Atmospheric Research) to head up the machine shop where they built rockets to test the air. He designed the shop, purchased the equipment and hired the men. It was said that, back in the early '60's, it was one of the cleanest and quietest in the nation. He had acoustical ceiling and flooring installed. It was unlike the norm for industrial machine shops of the day which usually left the floor concrete and the ducts and vents overhead. Everyone thought he was crazy to put in tile floors because they erroneously believed they would just get ruined. But the men were taught to sweep up their milling clutter rather than step on it and grind it into the floor. Because of the acoustical ceilings the noise from the machines was reduced so drastically they had music playing over speakers. Every Friday they had a pizza party. Daddy provided the English muffins and everyone brought their favorite pizza topping. Then they baked them in their special oven that could get as high as 2000. Because it could get so hot, the pizzas were done in minutes.

 

So there he sat, carefully explaining his invention and drawing the plans like he used to do like it was totally normal to come back from the dead and join in the conversation. I was so thrilled and delighted to have him there, but he wasn't exactly as I remember him just before he died.

I remember staring at him then turning away, because it is not polite to stare.  For some reason, someone was sitting between Daddy and me.  So I had to either lean back or forward to see him. He looked young. His skin was fair with no wrinkles, his hair neatly coiffed, unlike the wild way he used to wear it before he died. I was attributing it to the makeup they put on the corpse in the funeral home, but I knew that couldn’t be it, because Daddy had been cremated.   

None of us ran over to him and hugged him or welcomed him much as we all wanted to because we didn’t think we would be allowed to in his ghostly state. Or maybe we thought we would break the spell if we did, so we all just acted like it was totally normal to have him come to visit.  He wasn’t really like a ghost, he was just like he was alive, except about 25 or maybe 35 years old and not 78. I wanted to hug him so badly and express my delight to see him again. 

It was so delightful to see him again that when I awakened and realized it was a dream, I just lay there, eyes closed, trying to finish the dream. I haven't had a dream of Daddy since I was in college. Why is that?

I’m sad I didn’t get to visit with him longer and hear his voice longer. I awoke happy, yet really sad too.

I don’t often write down my dreams, but this one I didn’t want to forget, short as it was.

I miss you Daddy. . .

vivid dream

I rarely remember my dreams. But this morning's dream is vivid. I awoke relieved it wasn't real and my hands and feat were sweating.
What causes my hands and feet to sweat? High places. YIKES

So without further adieu

::fade to dreamy music::

I am on some sort of campus. I was with my B-girl daughter. She was looking for a certain professor to ask a question. She had told me he was hard to find, but after riding an escalator for many flights and finally having to climb the last four flights with out any escalator, we reached the top of the building and there he was. At this point, I had lost B-girl.

While looking about, the professor, who was around 25 years old, invited me to see some of the other parts of the building. He opened a trap door, which looked like the attic with structure posts. I told him I was not as agile as in my younger days and he just smiled and kept going. When he opened the door, I was terrified to see we were at the peak of the roof. This is one of those tile roofs. The roof was so high that the river below seemed far down, but still expanded for a great deal of terrain. I was able to back into the attic and rescue myself, and the professor eventually, after some death-defying jumps came back into the attic as well. Then somehow we found B-girl and we were shown another door. By now I was a bit wary, but I followed.

We climbed around some structure posts and then through another trap door which led us out to another roof! This one was a turret roof, and it had a hand bar, which I grabbed and began following. It led in a spiral around the roof, but as I was watching him, I realized it also led out away from the roof . We were sliding on this hand rail, feet on the bottom rail holding onto the top. The stupid professor then climbed over this and jumped back to the roof. It was a good 5 foot jump, which I KNEW I couldn't manage. He landed on the side of the roof just as I was realizing I might have to change direction and go back in order to get back to safety, but there were oncoming people, and I would be going against traffic.

At this point, I awoke. At first I was a bit frustrated because I felt I needed to finish this thing and get me back to safety, but then I realized this was a MUCH better solution.

Now, Suzanne specifically, analyze that. What in the world does this one mean?? Read her comments in the post of my last vivid dream and see if you think she is RIGHT ON or what.

here's wishing you a wonderful day
~a

Roller Coaster Ride

What is it about dreams? They are disturbing sometimes, especially when you awaken and remember the troubling details vividly. Analyze for me, will you?

::dream harp music::

We are standing by our front door.
Sailor, my hubby, is waiting for his carpool ride. When it arrives, he turns to me and asks, "wanna come?" True to my nature of not liking being left behind, I grab a poncho (I don't own a poncho, but in this dream, I made it), the camera and bag. In the bag besides the camera are two kinds of perfume: Sunflowers and Estee. Oh and I still have my long white flannel night gown.

We get to work, and somehow I lose the people I rode with. I end up getting on some sort of roller coaster. Assuming it will take me back to my hubby, I get on, trying to find him. We go on quite a ride. I meet people who comment on my poncho, and I show them how I made it myself. I lined it with a re-purposed white sweater. Ha ha ha ha. I can hardly believe my imagination. Btw, I would never do that.

When the roller coaster comes to a halt, we have been as high as 3 stories and are now back down to ground level, but we are also back to the starting point and no Sailor. Where now? I get out and start retracing my steps to find out how I had gotten to this place in the first place. Suddenly a completely different roller coaster comes along. It stops and I get onto it. This one takes me in different places this time. I don't find Sailor and realize that I am really on the wrong one, so somewhere along the line, in the middle of the ride, I get off and begin to walk down the tracks to retrace my steps, hopefully to find Sailor. This time a third roller coaster comes along and I have to jump aside to let it pass. These roller coasters look more like a high speed a commuter train.

I find myself getting deeper and more lost as I try to retrace steps and find my way out of the guts of this building that seems to have no openings to where Sailor works. There are only tracks that take you on endless stomach-fluttering highs and lows like a roller coaster.

All the while, I am still in my long white flannel night gown. I realize that on one of the trains I have left behind my poncho and my camera bag with the perfume inside. So as I am trying to find my hubby, I am also retracing my steps looking for the lost items and asking everyone I see if they have any lost and found items turned in.

When I wake, I realize I never found Sailor or any of the missing items.

At this point, when I woke up, I got up and wondered around the house, disturbed by the contents of this dream. After I get a drink of water, I shuffle back to bed and pick the dream back up where it left off, except this time I begin to write about it in my blog, so the next time I wake, I still remember the first dream and the second one as well.

This is so bizarre. How would you interpret this dream? Am I running too fast, taking on too much in my life? Why am I still in my nighty? Not prepared? What about the lost items I never recover? Chime in, what do you think? And why did I remember this one, but don't remember others?

Well, off to the Gala for our choir, then to a hotel for the night, then the Manti Temple for Friday. Life is good

Crazy Mixed Up Dream/Nightmare and why I haven't been blogging lately

Yesterday I went to choir for the first time in about six weeks. We gave our concert the Saturday after Thanksgiving and got a break for Christmas. I was sick for 10 days after Christmas with bronchitis and basically slept for all ten days and nights. It was sort of an awake coma, if you know what I mean. I would get up, eat, use the facilities and do things like clean the kitchen or do laundry, which I vaguely remember doing and sometimes was surprised it was done. I got a box in the mail of Ocuvite vitamins that I barely remember buying. I better be careful if I ever get something like this again. Sailor will have to lock the computer and hide the keys.

But then I'd go right back to bed after getting up and sleep some more. Sailor would come home in the evening, and I would awaken enough to eat the dinner he made for me, then settle right back into my pillow and sleep through the night. I was coughing so hard that I didn't know whether to cover my mouth or hold my chest with both hands to keep it from burning as I coughed. Eventually on Sailor's day off (about a week after I started feeling bad - which, incidentally all fell on the New Year week), he took me to the doctor, I was diagnosed with bronchitis, got on meds and finally came out of the deep sleep. Only to find I had lost part of my life.

It was disorienting, because basically 10 days had been taken out of my life. I was surprised to hear that Obama would be inaugurated here soon, I thought to myself, "wait, doesn't that usually happen in January?" My Christmas tree is still up, because I usually leave it up until the Christian holiday called 12th night. It is when the wise men symbolically found the baby Jesus. We know actually they didn't find him until he was around 2 years old. So it is a symbolic day. But in my mind the 6th was not until another week or so.

Anyway, back to my day yesterday. Tuesdays are always LOOOOOONNNNNNNGGGGGGG. I usually try to leave the house before noon and have a list as long as my arm of things to accomplish in the big city as long as I am spending the gas money. (its a 2.5-hour drive one way)

I went to Bath and Body Works yesterday and had a grand time purchasing some of that wonderful cherry blossom and yummy vanilla hand soaps. Can I just say that I *LOVE* their hand soaps? I don't purchase lotion for hands or feet there, because I have my own favorite lotion I purchase elsewhere, but the hand soap makes me feel so happy every time I use it.

I also went to Costco, purchased a bunch of stuff you can only get at Costco including a good price on gasoline, $1.49, then to Michael's. I purchased some glass paint and beads. Then I went to see my Beautiful D1 at her workplace. She manages a hair salon. I delivered the Christmas gifts which I brought home from our out-of-state relatives and visited with her for a few minutes. She is such a delightful girl. She is always happy and smiling. I LOVE seeing her. She always makes me feel happy after I have seen her, and it keeps me smiling for a good long while after I leave. Thank you, Sweet and Beautiful D1. I LOVE YOU.

I hurried onto WalMart to exchange some things, purchased some great fabric for a quilt I am starting and a few things on my list. I then hurried to our Choir Board Meeting and then Choir until 9 pm.

I had awakened at 6 am and got home at midnight. Did I mention that Tuesdays are long? After putting away the perishables and heading to bed, I laid there and buzzed. I can't just go to sleep the minute I get home. I just laid there, mind racing.

After Sailor fell asleep, I got back up and checked email and surfed the web for a while, made a purchase, and I finally fell asleep by 1:30.

I usually NEVER remember my dreams, but this one droned on and on and was more frustrating than scary.
I dreamed I was watching over a bunch of out-of-control children. I knew the children in my dream, among them was a nephew who was about 8 in the dream and others, I think including my grandchildren and several others. We had taken the whole lot of them for a visit to a friend's house and were trying to settle them down for the night. Some were obediently going to sleep in sleeping bags spread all over the floor of the living room, but others felt exempt from my rule, even though I was their temporary babysitter and guardian.

One nephew in particular was fiddling with the foot peddles of a piano and was making it produce a very low and loud sighing noise. The sound was more of a noise that would come from the foot pedal of an organ rather than a piano. Isn't that how dreams go? He fiddled with it and when I called him off, the piano/organ kept emitting the low regular noise. This would cause him to go back and fiddle some more, only to have it continue to make noise after he would walk away.

I was getting very frustrated with the whole situation and the children we had worked so hard to put to bed were all stirring. But I couldn't get the obnoxious nephew to stop fiddling with this piano/organ.

By the way, I don't think this frustrating dream has anything to do with the fact that my DIL1 and S1 want us to come and babysit their four daughters this summer while they take a trip to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Although babysitting other people's children, even my own grandchildren, really makes me nervous. I feel so out of practice, you know?

Luckily for me, Sailor got up for work, and I awoke. The Obnoxious Dream was at a frustrating but non-conclusive end. Thank Goodness.

Now that I write about it, I think I can figure this out. I think I was incorporating Sailor's snores into my dream.
How simple is that?
hope you have a great day
xxoo
~a

ANOTHER Wierd Dream

Two dreams, two nights in a row, that I can recall! What is this? I never remember dreams and always find it fascinating that other people can recall theirs so very clearly. I cannot figure out why I dreamed this and if it has any kind of "meaning."

::cue in dreamy music::

This one involved 5 children, that were not my own or my grandchildren! In fact, I didn't know them. But we were in charge of them for a week. Anyway Sailor and I were babysitting these children and having a heck of a time getting them to mind. They were wound up and wanted to play and we couldn't get them to settle down and sleep. (note: I cannot figure Who could have wound them up this bad either) They kept popping up like toast. And with two against five, we were NOT winning. I was getting increasingly frustrated and had NO idea what to do. It is a different story when you are raising your own children. They know their boundaries, and know when to stop. These kids just thought everything we did was funny and no one was minding. I even remember patting one on her be-diapered butt and she thought it was funny.

::abruptly stop the chaotic (not dreamy) music::

I told Sailor of my dream that morning when he woke me to kiss me good bye. Later the next day, recalling the nightmare, he reported it worried him when I said, "Yeah, this was a nightmare! Dealing with these little out-of-control brats made me wish I had never had (well, you get the picture)." I don't remember saying that part, but I clearly remembered the disheartening part about feeling so helpless.

Now on a lighter note. If I had used my logic, I would have stepped back, and let Sailor take over. He is amazing. He probably would have lit a few candles, turned all the lights out and read them some stories from Little House on the Prairie like he used to do with our own kids, and like our kids, they would have probably all fallen asleep in our arms and we could have taken each one and gently put them into their beds with NO hassle.

All I know is this: I awoke feeling very tired, frustrated and helpless. It took me a minute to realize that it had been a dream, but it took longer to shake that exhausted feeling. I feel badly for those who remember their dreams, especially when they are chaotic, and awake completely unrested. I want to go back to a blissful unconscious sleep. I guess I am glad I don't remember most of my dreams, unless they are happy ones, if indeed I do have them.

Weird Dream

What do dreams tell us? I usually don't even remember my dreams. But Tuesday morning I awoke and felt such gratitude to realize what I had been experiencing was really all a bad dream.

::cue in dreamy music::

I had just been to the dentist and he had given me this partial plate to replace my four front bottom teeth. It had been a brutal session at the dentist and I was wondering why he had decided to replace these teeth. I thought they had been fine before I had come in that morning.

As I drove away, I noticed one of the replacements already felt loose. This was worrisome since he had charged me an exorbitant amount (in cash) and insurance wasn't paying for this work.
By the time I got to my friend's house, my teeth were all feeling lose. Then to my surprise, Angela, my friend, was in the process of moving away, packing boxes and explaining that she was getting a divorce. As she explained why they were divorcing, I was losing my teeth. I remember being on the floor looking for all four teeth and realizing this plate was falling apart too. I was trying to save all the pieces and pay attention to Angela as she explained about her trauma. One time during all this, I had actually rounded up all the teeth, found glue, fixed everything and put them back into my mouth only to have them fall out again! It was during this second time of looking for the teeth in a particularly dark dusty corner that I awoke.
::dreamy music stops::

Analysis:
It is pretty straight forward, if I think about it.

I had a particularly stressful and partially sleepless night, twitching, itching, imaginary pains, tossing and turning. I finally got up around 2:30 and moved to the couch so I wouldn't keep my poor husband awake.

I believe it gets worse as you continue to see the clock moving forward and the number of hours left to sleep dwindling, and the knowledge that you will pay for your sleeplessness later in the day. The last time I remember looking at the clock was about 2:30.
To make matters even worse, Tuesday was choir practice, which involves a 2 1/2 hour drive, one way, and the return trip would gets me home by about midnight. Add to that I was slated to
leave pretty early in the morning because of other things that needed to be done while in the Big City. I want to be adequately rested on that day.

The missing teeth? Here is my explanation:
Monday I had been to see the dentist. In way of explanation, four of my molars are actually baby teeth with no permanent adult teeth growing in behind them. The first one was replaced by a bridge, the second by an implant the third is solid and the fourth just lost its filling. This fourth tooth sans filling is just a shell and cannot be fixed again. This one is the candidate for an implant. My current insurance won't pay for an implant, but it will pay half the cost of a bridge. Suffice to say, they consider the implant a cosmetic procedure but are willing to pay for three crowns to cover the area of the two teeth on either side, and the one that replaces the missing tooth. It seems reasonable if they are willing to pay for three crowns, then why aren't they willing to pay the same amount of money to only replace one tooth? But that is the policy.

I would rather not ruin two perfectly good teeth on either side of the missing tooth, by grinding them down and fitting each of them with a crown to support the bridge. Mom said it weakened one of her teeth so badly, she ended up losing one of them and now has a bridge that spans two teeth. The cost the dentist's office quoted to me was much lower than most, but out of pocket, I will have to pay nearly $2000. They offered a 10% discount if I pay cash.

I have no idea why I dreamed about Angela. She moved away about 5 years ago, and is happily living in Las Vegas with her husband and near her son, her husband has quit teaching HS and works in Real Estate. I miss her. She was my sewing buddy and mentor.

I have had lots of sewing business lately. Maybe that is why she showed up in my dream, but what about that divorce??? Ick.

I am glad it was just a dream nightmare.

~a