Saturday, December 21, 2019

A Hand, Life and Earth

It’s the Winter solstice. Tomorrow will be a fractionally longer day. I think of December 22nd as the first day on the journey to Summer. I can hardly wait for warm weather.
I still have not touched my armature. I keep busy doing chores, chilling and walking Sheba. But it doesn’t matter what I do.
Nearly all the dreams I remember are about being lost, but last night I had a different kind of dream. All I can remember is the part just before I woke up, and that was of a hand placing a nice wide and thin clear glass container with what I think is Lobelia panted in it. But as my view gets closer, I realize it is more of a Sebum-like plant. That’s it. That’s all I remember.
One of the rare other dreams that I remember, is also short. It involved a hand coming into my view of a rock. The hand has an aerosol spray bottle in it, and as it moves into my view it starts spraying a liquid onto the rock that turns into wiggling little worms.
I know. What kind of person dreams about worms?
Me. I do. And I dream about Lobelia that turns into Sebum. Go figure.
Both of the dreams involve a feminine hand and are alive, both happen on sunny days and in vivid colour and both primary images (worms and flowers) are of the earth. I like all that. I like that my “broken” brain that overdoses me on anxiety soothes me at night—at least once in a while.
Rain today. Rain tomorrow. Rain on Monday and Tuesday. Rain on Christmas. And more rain. That’s what the weather website says, but it likely means “showers” for Gabriola. But every day will be 5° - 7° and that’s wonderful compensation for the wet. I really enjoy walking Sheba in Rollo Park and she loves it there too.
I know because since we started going there, she whimpers with delight and/or anticipation every time we pull into the parking lot. And she does that nowhere else.
I think it’s because we play ball there, on the grass. She loves chasing the ball. She doesn’t return it; she’s no retriever. But she loves the chase.

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