Visions of Flash Mobs Dance in My Head!

I love this video so much! When I first saw it posted on facebook, I immediately added "Be somewhere -- anywhere -- when a flash mob breaks out" to my bucket list. Then my daughter posted it, and told Santa that all she wanted for Christmas was a flash mob of her very own. Which prompted me to tell her that all I wanted from her and her brother this year was for them to set one up for me. Then I started to imagine what that would be like...

It would be Christmas morning, and even though I'd be sort of halfway expecting it, I would act so surprised, they'd never wonder -- especially Dominic. We'd all be sitting around in our pajamas (or sweats for the ones who'd had to drive over early). This being Charlie's first Christmas, of course she'd be drawing most of the attention -- Which would allow My Awesome Husband Greg to slip unnoticed from the living room in order to get his video camera ready.

I'd probably be the one whose job it was to keep Charlie from eating bows and wrapping paper, and to show her how to play with her new toys, so Meagan and Dominic -- and Joe, if he was willing -- would be able to take their positions without my noticing (or seeming to notice)...

I picture Dominic stepping up onto the coffee table (and if Sydney's there, she could be on his shoulders), while Meagan straddles the bannister. Joe would maybe be doing a handstand on the rocking chair to start off, but he'd probably have to flip onto his feet after a couple of minutes. In my vision, they're singing "God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen," and they sound just like Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan. And since that song doesn't usually bring out the sentimentality in me, I'd have to force myself a little bit, but I imagine myself crying (and looking pretty while I do it. I'll have to remember to put on waterproof mascara that morning.)

You know, dreams are what keep me going sometimes. I can't wait until Christmas!

Sweet Dreams of Clouds and Teeth

(Isn't that how that old Eurhythmics song went?)

You know how I've said that I like taking pictures of clouds with my LRDC? Well, I suppose, then, it's only natural that that should become the subject of one of my Wild-Assed Dreams...







Yep. I was out taking cloud photos -- just me and my LRDC -- when all of a sudden an alarm went off in my head. Or maybe there actually was an alarm -- you know -- that alarming buzzing sound the TV makes when they want you to know that you should seek shelter immediately because there's a tornado in your backyard?

Whatever...Whether it was in my head or in my ears, I heard an alarm, and I looked up in time to see a gigantic triangular (i.e., funnel-shaped ) cloud with a huge exclamation point right on its chest heading directly toward me!

Then the scene changed...

There was my Dazzling Daughter Meagan. She had come home to reclaim her old retainer, which she had left in one of the bathroom drawers something like 18 years ago. When I told her that I had just recently cleaned out those drawers and had donated her retainer to Goodwill, she did not display the wrath for which I had braced myself. Instead, her [beautiful, huge brown] eyes filled with tears as her lower lip began trembling. I didn't know what to do, so I just woke up then.

Oh -- She doesn't need that retainer anyway...




(Meagan Smiles, 9/22/07, by Karen Branson)

My Sister Dream

(Top) Melissa & Avery, 2003(?), Cedar Point; (below) Alex, Lake Shannon, 2004 (both by Karen Branson)

This is a dream I had last week. I didn't bother to write it down, because it was so real that I didn't think I'd forget. Now it all seems like a dream...

My Sister Melissa was here for a visit with her two kids. (I guess Hubby Dan must have stayed home to take care of the horses -- someone had to.)

Missy hasn't been in North Carolina since my mom was in the hospital eight years ago. Before she had Alex, who's now 17(!) and Avery, she used to visit every year or so. I guess having two kids with autism and/or spectrum-related issues salted her wings a bit, making North Carolina visits with my baby sister a rare treat. (Oh -- And I don't think the fact that her airplane almost crash-landed in a huge windstorm on her return flight that last time did anything to help my cause, either!)

Anyway, I dreamed that Missy was here -- Here! -- for a visit. In the dream, we were sitting at the kitchen table, and she was telling me about jumping from bed to bed in the hotel room with Alex and Aveary, laughing like idiots -- Missy and I, I mean, as she told the story.

If you've read my other posts about dreams, you know that I like to try to figure out where they came from..

As I mentioned in my recent post about Alex, Melissa and her family have been very much on my mind lately. I was probably thinking about them as I fell asleep. I just love them all so much, and I don't get to see them nearly as often as I'd like. It would have been natural for me to have concocted a story about them coming here for a visit, instead of my having to wait until our annual trip to Michigan to see them. That part was easy. The part that gave me a little trouble is Missy and the kids jumping on the beds! (While it was fun to picture, it's just not quite in character for any of them.) Then I remembered my Brother Mark telling me about something he and My Other Brother Jason had done a long time ago, back when they were much younger and not entirely wise...

I can remember laughing until I hurt as Mark talked about how, when the two of them worked together building sunrooms and had to travel quite a bit, they would entertain themselves in their motel rooms by doing stupid stunts, using the beds -- and other furniture -- as props. (Really, it's a wonder that I still have two brothers!) Isn't that called transference-- having Missy and kids doing things that had actually been done by Mark and Jason? Whatever -- I love Missy and her kids, I love Mark and Jason -- Heck, I even love jumping on beds! I guess I just mixed it all up in one crazy dream.

It seems like I was awake for a while before I remembered that Missy won't be visiting North Carolina any time soon. (Sigh.) It sure was a good dream while it lasted, though!

Oh -- I guess if you ever want to make me laugh, you just have to tell me a good jumping-on-the-bed story!

Another Crazy Dream Blog

Dj and Joe (as in Meagan's Joe), Summer 2005, Lake Shannon, by Karen. (See Photo Note below after you have read this post.)

I had another crazy dream last night. Well, actually, this morning, just before the alarm went off. At first I couldn't remember what it was, but I knew I'd had one. Then my Awesome Husband Greg brought me a cup of coffee with a straw so I could slowly sip myself awake, and that's when it all came back to me...

I was dressed for something wintry -- perhaps ice fishing? I know it wasn't ice skating, because a cute little twirly skirt and tights were not part of my outfit. I'm seeing corduroy pants, a big puffy jacket and heavy leather work boots. Hmmmm. Wouldn't I have been wearing waders if I were ice fishing? I guess I should do some research -- but later.

It seems like everything I was wearing was either brown or dark green. And there was someone with me. I'm not sure, but I think it might have been Shane Sparks. (You know -- the judge on America's Best Dance Crew and So You Think You Can Dance?) If it wasn't Shane, whoever it was was African American, and he was dressed in the same kind of doofy outfit I was. (That makes me think it probably wasn't Shane.)

So it was cold, we were dressed for the cold (Did I mention that we were also wearing hats, scarves and gloves?) and we were on the water. Water, not ice. There was a dock and a jet ski. And this guy -- what the heck -- I'm just gonna go ahead and call him Shane -- is trying to explain to me that it's perfectly all right to ride a jet ski when you're all dressed in warm, puffy clothing and leather boots. He was trying to convince me that nothing bad or scary would happen; that I'd be perfectly safe.

I obviously wanted to believe him, but I seemed to be having a little trouble. For one thing, I don't know who paid for those boots, but I was really hesitant to get them wet -- Or maybe it was just that I was hesitant to get myself wet. Whatever. I finally stepped off the dock, swam out to the jet ski and climbed on. That's when I realized that, hey, I didn't feel the least bit chilled -- or wet! When I patted my corduroys, they were wet, but none of it was soaking through to my skin! That's when I realized that Shane was right -- I would be perfectly fine!

Now I still don't know why I it was winter -- oh, never mind -- it is winter, isn't it?! But why was my outfit so unattractive? Also, I'm not sure why my encouraging companion was Shane Sparks. But I have sort of figured out some of the other stuff:

The jet ski: A few days ago I had listened to a friend describe her near-death experience with bus hijackers in Guatemala. She had said one of her first thoughts was "If I die here, my mother will kill me." That had reminded me of the time Greg and I were in Cancun and we'd taken a jet ski out when there was a tropical storm looming over the ocean. (Against every ounce of judgment within me, I might add!) I was terrified, and at that point I had absolutely no trust in my Awesome Husband's ability to maneuver a jet ski over 30-foot waves (Ok, perhaps that's a slight exaggeration, but I want to be sure you understand my mindset.) I, too, had actually thought, "If I die doing this, my mother will kill me."

My trepidation: I think I have mentioned in this blog that I've been filling out on-line job applications. That alone is a big step outside of my comfort zone. But I've also been applying for jobs in places I never would have imagined myself being employed...as a cashier in a manufacturing plant cafeteria, as a census taker...Not actually having Shane Sparks to encourage me to just plunge in, leather boots and all, I've been talking pretty hard to myself, telling myself things like "C'mon, girl -- You know you can do whatever you want to do!" and "Yes, you do want to be a cashier in a cafeteria -- Don't you remember? Why, you've dreamed of that ever since you were a wee, small lass!"

My triumph over the wet and cold: That's the premonition part of the dream. It really is going to be ok. (I'm kind of hoping it means that one of the bookstores where I've applied will call and hire me later on today, but if not, I can be sure that whatever comes along will be the right thing, and that I'll be a smash hit, wherever I work.)

Shane Sparks: Hey -- I think I just figured out why he was there -- I'm going to be an exotic dancer! Obviously I needed a competent dance-judger to encourage me to go for it...

Unflattering Outfit: Got that part, too, now...It's going to be part of my act. As I'm dancing, I'll take off all that ugly, puffy corduroy stuff, and underneath I'll be wearing a really darling skating outfit! (Underneath my stocking cap, of course, will be a sparkly tiara.)

Ok, folks -- I gotta get back out there and get my feet wet (so to speak)! Later, Bloggees!

Photo Note: Obviously this is not a picture of a jet ski or an African American male dressed for winter sports. I tried, but I couldn't come up with anything even close. So this is just a gratuitous photo of two cute guys enjoying some fun and sun in the middle of winter. (At least there's water.)

My Mom Dream

Mom/Gramma Rose (center) with Meagan and Kate, Thanksgiving 2000 (by Greg)

I know that I have mentioned my dad several times in this blog; my mom, not so much. Probably because Mom has been gone a lot longer -- almost eight years now. I guess I'm just used to her being on the inside of me now, instead of on the outside. (We're all still getting used to Dad's new place.)

This picture was taken on our last Thanksgiving with Mom. She died the following February. I had a another dream about her last week. (Interestingly, I dream about Mom a lot, but I have yet to have a dream about my dad. I wonder why.)

I wrote down what I could remember of my dream, because I felt like it was important. Unfortunately, although I remember feeling that it made sense in the context of what had happened that day, I can no longer remember what that was. Also, the words I wrote on that little yellow slip of paper are doing nothing for me at this point as far as re-creating my dream. I wrote:

Mom. Crowded shopping, My purse $3.00, Hold Mom's expensive purse, Bathroom.

Honestly, I haven't got a clue!

Well, actually, there are a few clues here -- clues to the way I perceived my mom anyway...Shopping was one of our favorite things to do together. Most of the dreams I have about Mom involve shopping. So this trip involved crowded shopping conditions. (I do remember that it was some sort of an outdoor market, and I remember that that made sense when I first awakened. Alas, not any more.)

I must have had $3.00 in my purse. Typical. But I probably thought I had more. (In fact, I'm probably still convinced that there's a $20 bill safely tucked away in some forgotten compartment, just waiting to be discovered.) But maybe, together with the next part about holding Mom's expensive purse, the $3.00 notation simply means that my purse was cheap by comparison -- like $3.00 on sale. (I have bought purses in the $3.00 price range, while Mom's tastes -- in purses as in everything else -- tended to be a little more expensive.)

Clearly, then, Mom asked me hold her expensive purse while she went to the bathroom. Or maybe I went to the bathroom. I seem to remember being in the bathroom at this open-air market. I also remember Mom's purse. I thought it was ugly, being made of four different kinds of leather that didn't really go together. Expensive leather, but not attractive. (She probably got her purse on sale, too. But she would have paid at least $10.00.)

Well, if you're still reading at this point, were you hoping that in writing about my dream, I would come to some sort of an Oprah Ah-ha Moment that would explain it all? Me too. Apparently that's not gonna happen. (Sigh. Maybe I'll have another Mom dream soon.)

**********

Thanksgiving (and the start of that whole Holiday Season thing) is a big time for missing our loved ones who live on the inside, even as we stress out about getting together with the ones who still live on the outside. I guess that's human nature -- the stress part, I mean. We'll be with my brother Mark and his family. My Michigan sisters and brother -- and our step-mom/friend, Betty, will be with us, too, because we'll be together in missing Mom and Dad. Maybe we'll have a chance to share some of our memories over the telephone.

This Thanksgiving -- our first without Dad -- is going to be a sad one. But I know there'll be laughter, too. And I know Mom and Dad will be with all of us, in Michigan and North Carolina. They can do that when they live on the inside, you know.

When I'm ready, I may write an entire week's worth of posts about my Mom. Things I remember about our times together, dreams I've had, conversations I continue to have with her. I have pages and pages of journal entries to which I can refer. For now, though, I just wish I could hear the back door open, catch a whiff of her perfume (her most recent favorite was Pleasures), hear her footsteps and her soft voice saying, "Hello? Anybody home?)

Dreams -- the Interpretation of

("Dreamclouds" by Kate, 10/25/08, MSN Paint)

Last Saturday morning I had a dream (See "In My Wild-Assed Dreams," 10/18/08). Today I shall interpret it...

(By "interpret," I don't mean that that the dream was a foreshadowing of things to come, and that I am able to predict the future...I mean that I know why I had that particular (and peculiar) dream. However, should the dream turn out to actually be a foreshadowing, I would be glad -- Clogging while suspended from an electrical wire would be on the fun side of thrilling, wouldn't it?)

The clogging at a fall festival in my dream is a no-brainer. During the month of October, our club was booked nearly every weekend; fall festivals abound during October. Having a parade as part of a such an event isn't much of a stretch, either. Now, dancers performing their art while suspended from wires -- that gets a little more involved. I have figured it out, though...

That portion of the dream obviously indicates that, given the fact that I have been recently made to realize that performing an activity with a significantly lowered oxygen level in my blood (such as is caused by scar tissue and/or sarcoidosis) can irreparably damage my heart, I have come to view clogging as a somewhat dangerous endeavor. Fun, but dangerous, nonetheless. Like hanging from wires over the street. Fun? Most likely -- at least for a few seconds. Dangerous? Most definitely.

So will I choose to live dangerously? Well, I never have before...

In My Wild-Assed Dreams...

In My Wildest Dreams by Kate, 10/18/08, MSN Paint
Have you ever awakened at the usual time on a Saturday morning, realized, "Hey, I really don't have to get up," but gone down to the kitchen anyway, had a couple of shots, half of a six-pack and a glass of merlot, and then snuggled back in for a little more snooze time?

Well, of course I haven't either! But if I ever had, I don't think I could possibly have conjured up a wilder dream than the one I had this morning...

There was a fall festival ('tis the season, you know), and our clogging group was going to be performing. But first there was to be a parade -- right down Market Street, starting in the vicinity of Guilford College Road. I know this, because that's where I was waiting for the festivities to begin, watching the pre-parade entertainment (perhaps superfluous, but it was a dream, ok?) on a large-screen tv. As I watched -- Oh, first, I must tell you what I was watching....

There were dancers of all genres -- including clogging, of course. Not dancing on a stage, though. No, these dancers were performing their routines from the electrical wires that run across the road. (It probably is easier on the knees and feet that way, but I had to wonder about their poor hands!)

What I realized as I was watching was that I knew where those particular wires were -- at the very next intersection, Swing Road. I simply had to move closer to the action! (Apparently there were no large, rowdy crowds to contend with, because I was there in a flash. Oh wait -- that would be the Dream Factor, wouldn't it?)

I believe I was just getting up my nerve to see if I, too, might be part of this exciting new peformance art when my husband arrived with my morning coffee. (Just in time, I might add -- My little hands haven't been able to bear my body weight since I was about eight years old!)

Maybe next time I'll just have one beer.