LOL - a rose by any other name is still a rose, and a plate by any other name might in fact be a real dish.
What great timing - just this morning, I made up my mind that I should die my hair again. When I see myself in snapshots, I gasp in shock at how much gray there really is. I think of it as a badge of honor, but my husband has stated his preference. DYE the gray hair in order to look younger (or look my age, rather than look older than he is).
Your dream is intriguing. I dreamed last night about a psychotic, emotionally draining woman (not the oft-mentioned girl from the school bus, but someone more along the lines of a young "Bechs," misspelled on purpose). She kept trying to foist upon me an antique book, a treasure of her childhood, then accused me of loosening the cover, and threatened to sue me for damages. Ok.... it was a very long and detailed and complicated dream, and I still see the book in my mind, so clearly, but the words were in Old English, because of course my subonconscious never delivers words to me direct from the Muse. When I try to read in dreams, I can never follow the words. Because I am ASLEEP and my brain will not supply words.
The things we treasure, the things we might take with us, if we were faced with eviction and exile: what small treasures would we pack for the long journey?
Me: a book of matches, a sharp knife, some rope...candles, ok, but candlesticks?
I love your silver hair too, and I wish mine would go all the way, all silver, instead of this peppery mix.
LOL - that was why I was unable to read the book. It was in that old type font, and the words read like Old English. The book in my dream had a red cover and looked a lot like this:
But the words weren't even as comprehensible as this:
Bifil that in that seson on a day,
In southwerk at the tabard as I lay.
Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage.
(from the Canterbury Tales)
The bossy, manipulative young brunette pushing this book on me, trying to set me up for a lawsuit for causing some damage to it. It is said that every person in our dreams represents some aspect of ourselves. Mothers represent internal authority, fathers, external authority. What aspect of myself did this psycho-b^tch represent? I don't even wanna know!
What did the woman with the candelsticks in YOUR dream represent.... what aspect of yourself would irrationally cling to a material possession for its sentimental or religious value....
Was your bossy brunette wearing red lipstick? AOC comes to mind for me.
My dreams, unlike yours apparently, dissipate a few moments after I awake. I'd been working on a post for @sliverbloggers, or cogitating on one I should say, so I made a point of remembering some of this dream. Let me try to go back to it.
I remember she was young, could get down on her knees, and cared very much about those candlesticks, all unlike me. Am I hanging onto something that I could let go of? My vanity? I've always felt attractive physically, still do, for an old broad. But my sense of self has always been shaky, less so now. Perhaps arriving in a new land holding on for dear life to useless objects represents my passage into the golden years holding onto something useless, like my shaky sense of self.
LOL - a rose by any other name is still a rose, and a plate by any other name might in fact be a real dish.
What great timing - just this morning, I made up my mind that I should die my hair again. When I see myself in snapshots, I gasp in shock at how much gray there really is. I think of it as a badge of honor, but my husband has stated his preference. DYE the gray hair in order to look younger (or look my age, rather than look older than he is).
Your dream is intriguing. I dreamed last night about a psychotic, emotionally draining woman (not the oft-mentioned girl from the school bus, but someone more along the lines of a young "Bechs," misspelled on purpose). She kept trying to foist upon me an antique book, a treasure of her childhood, then accused me of loosening the cover, and threatened to sue me for damages. Ok.... it was a very long and detailed and complicated dream, and I still see the book in my mind, so clearly, but the words were in Old English, because of course my subonconscious never delivers words to me direct from the Muse. When I try to read in dreams, I can never follow the words. Because I am ASLEEP and my brain will not supply words.
The things we treasure, the things we might take with us, if we were faced with eviction and exile: what small treasures would we pack for the long journey?
Me: a book of matches, a sharp knife, some rope...candles, ok, but candlesticks?
I love your silver hair too, and I wish mine would go all the way, all silver, instead of this peppery mix.
Right? And these things are HUGE.
You dream in Old English?!
LOL - that was why I was unable to read the book. It was in that old type font, and the words read like Old English. The book in my dream had a red cover and looked a lot like this:
But the words weren't even as comprehensible as this:
The bossy, manipulative young brunette pushing this book on me, trying to set me up for a lawsuit for causing some damage to it. It is said that every person in our dreams represents some aspect of ourselves. Mothers represent internal authority, fathers, external authority. What aspect of myself did this psycho-b^tch represent? I don't even wanna know!
What did the woman with the candelsticks in YOUR dream represent.... what aspect of yourself would irrationally cling to a material possession for its sentimental or religious value....
hm.
Was your bossy brunette wearing red lipstick? AOC comes to mind for me.
My dreams, unlike yours apparently, dissipate a few moments after I awake. I'd been working on a post for @sliverbloggers, or cogitating on one I should say, so I made a point of remembering some of this dream. Let me try to go back to it.
I remember she was young, could get down on her knees, and cared very much about those candlesticks, all unlike me. Am I hanging onto something that I could let go of? My vanity? I've always felt attractive physically, still do, for an old broad. But my sense of self has always been shaky, less so now. Perhaps arriving in a new land holding on for dear life to useless objects represents my passage into the golden years holding onto something useless, like my shaky sense of self.
LOL, Oh my word, how did I do that? Your name is now correct, soooo sorry!