Snakes, Pancakes
The nice quick jolt packed out of a mug of hot, steaming, coffee is making me see imaginary swirls of hazelnut angels floating around my immediate vision, here as I decompress and sit down to type in front of the pc, the only source of illumination in the dark living room at 4:45 in the morning. I am thinking that if you give me Taster's Choice Hazelnut Roast at all times, I assure that I will be one less revenue for Starbucks, and most definitely will be disqualified to join the Slow Food Convivium for extolling the virtue of instant. Okay. So be it.
I slept early as usual last night, which I think is a real blessing, despite the thoughts that have bugged me these past few days. My mother, 75 years now, has been sick and depressed and deep down in my thoughts, growing down and probably preparing to go. My sister thinks the same and that is why I try to see Mom as often as I can, choosing not to be helpless about the way I feel. After all, a sad thing is only half as sad if you experience it first hand, and not made unbearable and exaggerated by someone else's telling.
My last thought last night was a prayer of thanks for the day, as always, and mostly for Mom, and God rewarded me with sleep. The waking is a different story because I was abruptly awakened by my own scream.
I dreamt of two snakes about a foot-long each, squirming out of the left pocket of a shirt I was wearing that was obviously not mine. Both snakes were thick as a fat straw, one was green and the other, black-and-blue striped, both obviuosly toxic. The rest of what the dream was all about quickly died in my memory but was all encapsulated in the cold, queasy terror of the squirming snakes. For some reason, it made me think of sex. Very strange, the way the mind works.
Swirly smoke of hazelnut angels rise from my coffee, sweet of smell and waking me, and thawing out the frozen terror arising from rudely interrupted sleep. If hazelnut angels are any foreboding of things to come, I can very well imagine that a carbo fix is in order. For some reason, I am feeling very hungry and I got a mind to fix creamy pancakes for fluff and comfort, for breakfast. Yes, with French butter and strawberry jam. The kids will be happy.
Filed Under: Collage
I slept early as usual last night, which I think is a real blessing, despite the thoughts that have bugged me these past few days. My mother, 75 years now, has been sick and depressed and deep down in my thoughts, growing down and probably preparing to go. My sister thinks the same and that is why I try to see Mom as often as I can, choosing not to be helpless about the way I feel. After all, a sad thing is only half as sad if you experience it first hand, and not made unbearable and exaggerated by someone else's telling.
My last thought last night was a prayer of thanks for the day, as always, and mostly for Mom, and God rewarded me with sleep. The waking is a different story because I was abruptly awakened by my own scream.
I dreamt of two snakes about a foot-long each, squirming out of the left pocket of a shirt I was wearing that was obviously not mine. Both snakes were thick as a fat straw, one was green and the other, black-and-blue striped, both obviuosly toxic. The rest of what the dream was all about quickly died in my memory but was all encapsulated in the cold, queasy terror of the squirming snakes. For some reason, it made me think of sex. Very strange, the way the mind works.
Swirly smoke of hazelnut angels rise from my coffee, sweet of smell and waking me, and thawing out the frozen terror arising from rudely interrupted sleep. If hazelnut angels are any foreboding of things to come, I can very well imagine that a carbo fix is in order. For some reason, I am feeling very hungry and I got a mind to fix creamy pancakes for fluff and comfort, for breakfast. Yes, with French butter and strawberry jam. The kids will be happy.
Filed Under: Collage
<< Home