drmentry8515 "...a beginning, a middle and an end..."
i don't know who, if anybody, will read this any more but it's just too much to try shoe horning in at fb this time.
let me begin with the aside that i'm pretty sure it's getting close to when i'm going to have my period. if you know me well, you know that makes things... tricky... to say the least. both in understanding a dream and knowing whether it's something that Should be understood. nuff said there.
the title is maybe less accurate than usual but only because i had no idea what to say there.
moving on to:
the dream...
it sort of seems to take place in a farming area somewhere. some place that Sort of resembled the Farm but Not Quite.
the key players, when it Starts, are my mother, me and Seemingly both my uncles (the one alive and the one dead), my cousins (both alive) and...??? it gets murky beyond that. there seem to be quite a few people involved with this one but only a small number are "on scene."
there seem to be quite a few people who would be loosely labeled "field workers" around here... in other words, people of hispanic/mexican decent. they come in to play later though.
[...the beginning...]in the beginning, there is only myself, my mother, a man (possibly roomiex?) and an over-the-phone conver with the uncles/cousins.
that takes place here at tHermitage, pre-new-house.
we (my mother, myself and some-where "off camera" possibly roomiex) get a call from the uncles and the cousins (the cousins Also being "off camera" as it were) asking about preparing fresh fish. something they really wouldn't do irl but whatevs as they say.
apparently the fish they're asking about is pike and a conversation of little-to-no import insues about the edible qualities of said fish.
it is generally agreed that pike is okay to eat (as in tastes okay) if not actually Good if it were not for the meriad of tiny little bitchy bones that one invariably must cope with if one does choose to out-right Eat said fish with out canning it first. it's a bit like fishing itself really... it's a pleasant way to pass the time, so long as one is okay with the invariably annoying little annoyances such as bugs, heat and so forth.
something that was kiddingly mentioned at the tail end of the phone call. everybody gets the joke and we hang up.
after the call is over, my mother tells me we need to go do some field work.
that leads to the middle of the dream.
[...the middle...]where we leave one place that's not quite here, not quite some place else... to go to some place even more not-quite right.
to my great uncle's we go then.
where the whole thing gets switched up.
oh it Starts normal enough i suppose. you know, with mom and i talking to a lead feild hand about what needs doing, who will be doing what and where and for how long... (hint on the how-long: until it's done.)
i'm told i need to change my top to something more field-worker-esque. whereupon, i strip off my shirt and stand there chilled by the little house/trailer/shack/wha'ver's dank basement like air because i'm like that... in short words... a ninny. a half naked one no less.
meanwhile, the field manager or whatever she's called looks at me with a general air of wtf before hurriedly rooting through a pile of ugly ill-fitting tee shirts to find one that Might Sort of fit me.
we're all chatting about what has to be done while this is going on. nothing share-worthy, just little nattering bits people do while they do other things.
i Think some work gets done but it's blurry... at some point the whole thing drifts into the ending.
here is where it gets... interesting. now if i can only get it into words.
this part seems the more important bit maybe but as such, it's the hardest to write up. much less accurately.
it Mostly takes place in the whatever it is where i changed shirts... something that on the inside resembles being down inside one's root cellar. that sort of cramped earthen-y closed in quarters with that earthy mossy mushroomy smell and feel that they have.
the hispanic lady (the field manager or whatever) and a couple others.
this is where it gets tricky...
as in who the person veiwing/speaking is. because it's Partly as myself but it hops between who's doing the experiencing and so forth. meaning that it's always Me but the body changes.
[...the ending...]we're in the field head quarters (such as they are) when i notice that among everything Else there, are a number of cats and kittens. i, of course, coo over this discovery. the field manager is less than enthused. Greatly less than enthused.
not because she'd be unhappy if there are cats in her hq, but it would seem it's the "IF" part that she finds disturbing.
unbeknownst to me, these particular little furzbals are not, shall we say, Visible to everybody. it's unclear if they are past or future furzbies, but they certainly not Present ones.
she takes that to mean something is more than a little off about moi.
my mother explains that it may not be as bad as the lady thinks but has that look she got when she was annoyed with something because she was worried about it and didn't want to be. worried that is.
i, on the other hand, accept it as just being one of those things... you know, where you have no clue if it's good or bad, only that it'll likely sort itself out into its happy/unhappy little pigeon holes later.
something that happens with, i suppose, alarming frequency to me. to the point of where i've pretty much become desensitived to it and generally feel meh about it one way or another. i Do have limited stores of energy after all and worrying about the what-might-bes takes far too much to be worth the expenditure.
so i'm petting said invisi-furz when a little boy shows up from some strange glowing section of the place. i hadn't seen it before or if i had, it didn't sink it.
he looks so like a very young (about four maybe five years old) replica of one of my younger cousins, cracker jack. an almost exact match to him as a tot only with indeterminate colored eyes instead of the obvious deep reddish brown. the dark-red-nearly-black hair, the peachy white pale easily-sunburned skin, right down to the freckles peppering across his cheeks and nose.
at first, when i talk to him, i think he might be David. but it turns out he's not. i ask him where he's from, as in Whom.
he's cagey about it, won't give me a firm answer.
(meanwhile, the lady field manager's having the vapors with mom trying to get her to calm down and stop fussing so she can hear what's being said. which is hard to do with a woman whimpering over everything. especially when one can only catch one half of the conversation to begin with)
finally i give up trying to sort out if he's past or future. i gather that obviously from the noise going on behind me, that he's not of the Present. he asks me about my children. oddly i only mention JesSika and David though i am aware there was a possible third child in there named Jasmine. strangely, the name Sophia keeps popping in to my head but i disregard it as being something other.
i ask the little boy to say hi to my kids and tell them that though i try not to think of them all the time (thereby drawing them from wherever they are now) but that they are still there to me and that i still love and miss them. and that i hope wherever they may be, it's a good happy safe place for them to be. he tells me he will pass this along but that he's sure they already know that mommy still cares and misses them because he could tell it when he saw me the first time. that i am and always will be a Mommy down to the core.
he does not say this in any sort of tone that conveys he's trying to be nice. it's just the tone little kids use when they're bored and stating a fact and can we move it along to something interesting please.
such as the part where the past is in the past and less important than what's about to be, which isn't the present so much as the future.
which it would seem he knows about.
and wants to talk about.
there are other children (possibly him) that are about to be, or want to be, born/conceived/etc and he's there to discuss getting that under way.
the lady behind me Finally stops whimpering and has now taken a, if somewhat water-logged, interest in what's being said. she says she can't have kids. that she's too old and anyway who would she have them with...?
which seems to be the general commentary and concensus among us women (minus mom who wants No part in it spank-you-werde-much!) in the hq cellar.
the little boy looks at us, rolls his cute little eyes in that paradoxical cute/annoying way of children everywhere, and asks if we're terribly Sure about all that. as to say that we are too old and unloved to be able to reproduce is a bit much in the "oi, this what i have to deal with?!?" department.
this makes the lady behind me perk up with a rather surprising speed.
(seriously. i have never seen such a quick change of emotional rear-ended-ness as the apparent trafic three-sixty this chicano petite squeak took. it was like the tears-n-fears never happened and she was all about possibilities. i must say it was alarming to both myself and mom to observe. and mom was closer to it than i was.
for myself, i wasn't happy about this little flight-o-fancy-risk being Behind me where i couldn't keep track of her movements.)
the scene changes subtly to where several men are there now... well a couple at any rate.
one is talking to me and one is talking to the lady... it's unknown what the one talking to me is saying because at that point, the pov switches between the lady and the guy talking to her.
one pov from her view is that she's too old and unlovable to attract a mate much less have a kid. the flip of that is where the male is looking at her with mixed parts of sadness at her lack of inner love for herself, exasperation that she believes this of herself and the seeming annoyed determination to prove that not only is she wrong, but that He loves her and damn it wants to have kids with her. and therefore the getting/having kids is Completely possible because He thinks it is.
it's just a matter of getting her to get her head out of her butt and listen to reason.
which he does... after a fashion.
he, smartly i think, convinces her that maybe she and he could give it a go by sort of gently telling her he's interested in the whole proposition of the idea... that is if She would be. sort of a casual aside with a light touch of heavy handedness.
she gets the idea that Maybe this could happen... that at least it's worth a shot and well, she likes him anyway so if it doesn't work out they can still be friends, right?
they have sex. she whines that she thinks she didn't get pregnant. he sort of gently smirks and asks if she figured they only have sex once. she says she hadn't actually thought that far. he says that well, they could keep at it until she does get pregnant. and maybe even after that too if she's okay with that idea.
not once does he say what he's thinking... that he's slowly but surely trying to get her used to the idea of him being in the picture Permanently. that he's planning for forever but that he's willing to slowly let that idea take root in her psyche all on its very ownsome.
smart lad, that man. great at long term strategy with a scatter-wit.
not sure how things went for Me me and the guy i was "with". the dream doesn't really go there after i jump hosts.
all i know is that the couple of mes that weren't seem to have gotten their ducks in one basket and their eggs in a row because the next thing i know is i'm Me again, talking to the kid who's heading back in to the glowy bit of the place. he's got a smirk as he waves and cheekily says, "see you later... Momma."
and that's it. the whole thing. nuts and bolts and bits and all.
what's the import? elephino. dont' ask me, i'm just the dreamer.
~me
let me begin with the aside that i'm pretty sure it's getting close to when i'm going to have my period. if you know me well, you know that makes things... tricky... to say the least. both in understanding a dream and knowing whether it's something that Should be understood. nuff said there.
the title is maybe less accurate than usual but only because i had no idea what to say there.
moving on to:
the dream...
it sort of seems to take place in a farming area somewhere. some place that Sort of resembled the Farm but Not Quite.
the key players, when it Starts, are my mother, me and Seemingly both my uncles (the one alive and the one dead), my cousins (both alive) and...??? it gets murky beyond that. there seem to be quite a few people involved with this one but only a small number are "on scene."
there seem to be quite a few people who would be loosely labeled "field workers" around here... in other words, people of hispanic/mexican decent. they come in to play later though.
[...the beginning...]in the beginning, there is only myself, my mother, a man (possibly roomiex?) and an over-the-phone conver with the uncles/cousins.
that takes place here at tHermitage, pre-new-house.
we (my mother, myself and some-where "off camera" possibly roomiex) get a call from the uncles and the cousins (the cousins Also being "off camera" as it were) asking about preparing fresh fish. something they really wouldn't do irl but whatevs as they say.
apparently the fish they're asking about is pike and a conversation of little-to-no import insues about the edible qualities of said fish.
it is generally agreed that pike is okay to eat (as in tastes okay) if not actually Good if it were not for the meriad of tiny little bitchy bones that one invariably must cope with if one does choose to out-right Eat said fish with out canning it first. it's a bit like fishing itself really... it's a pleasant way to pass the time, so long as one is okay with the invariably annoying little annoyances such as bugs, heat and so forth.
something that was kiddingly mentioned at the tail end of the phone call. everybody gets the joke and we hang up.
after the call is over, my mother tells me we need to go do some field work.
that leads to the middle of the dream.
[...the middle...]where we leave one place that's not quite here, not quite some place else... to go to some place even more not-quite right.
to my great uncle's we go then.
where the whole thing gets switched up.
oh it Starts normal enough i suppose. you know, with mom and i talking to a lead feild hand about what needs doing, who will be doing what and where and for how long... (hint on the how-long: until it's done.)
i'm told i need to change my top to something more field-worker-esque. whereupon, i strip off my shirt and stand there chilled by the little house/trailer/shack/wha'ver's dank basement like air because i'm like that... in short words... a ninny. a half naked one no less.
meanwhile, the field manager or whatever she's called looks at me with a general air of wtf before hurriedly rooting through a pile of ugly ill-fitting tee shirts to find one that Might Sort of fit me.
we're all chatting about what has to be done while this is going on. nothing share-worthy, just little nattering bits people do while they do other things.
i Think some work gets done but it's blurry... at some point the whole thing drifts into the ending.
here is where it gets... interesting. now if i can only get it into words.
this part seems the more important bit maybe but as such, it's the hardest to write up. much less accurately.
it Mostly takes place in the whatever it is where i changed shirts... something that on the inside resembles being down inside one's root cellar. that sort of cramped earthen-y closed in quarters with that earthy mossy mushroomy smell and feel that they have.
the hispanic lady (the field manager or whatever) and a couple others.
this is where it gets tricky...
as in who the person veiwing/speaking is. because it's Partly as myself but it hops between who's doing the experiencing and so forth. meaning that it's always Me but the body changes.
[...the ending...]we're in the field head quarters (such as they are) when i notice that among everything Else there, are a number of cats and kittens. i, of course, coo over this discovery. the field manager is less than enthused. Greatly less than enthused.
not because she'd be unhappy if there are cats in her hq, but it would seem it's the "IF" part that she finds disturbing.
unbeknownst to me, these particular little furzbals are not, shall we say, Visible to everybody. it's unclear if they are past or future furzbies, but they certainly not Present ones.
she takes that to mean something is more than a little off about moi.
my mother explains that it may not be as bad as the lady thinks but has that look she got when she was annoyed with something because she was worried about it and didn't want to be. worried that is.
i, on the other hand, accept it as just being one of those things... you know, where you have no clue if it's good or bad, only that it'll likely sort itself out into its happy/unhappy little pigeon holes later.
something that happens with, i suppose, alarming frequency to me. to the point of where i've pretty much become desensitived to it and generally feel meh about it one way or another. i Do have limited stores of energy after all and worrying about the what-might-bes takes far too much to be worth the expenditure.
so i'm petting said invisi-furz when a little boy shows up from some strange glowing section of the place. i hadn't seen it before or if i had, it didn't sink it.
he looks so like a very young (about four maybe five years old) replica of one of my younger cousins, cracker jack. an almost exact match to him as a tot only with indeterminate colored eyes instead of the obvious deep reddish brown. the dark-red-nearly-black hair, the peachy white pale easily-sunburned skin, right down to the freckles peppering across his cheeks and nose.
at first, when i talk to him, i think he might be David. but it turns out he's not. i ask him where he's from, as in Whom.
he's cagey about it, won't give me a firm answer.
(meanwhile, the lady field manager's having the vapors with mom trying to get her to calm down and stop fussing so she can hear what's being said. which is hard to do with a woman whimpering over everything. especially when one can only catch one half of the conversation to begin with)
finally i give up trying to sort out if he's past or future. i gather that obviously from the noise going on behind me, that he's not of the Present. he asks me about my children. oddly i only mention JesSika and David though i am aware there was a possible third child in there named Jasmine. strangely, the name Sophia keeps popping in to my head but i disregard it as being something other.
i ask the little boy to say hi to my kids and tell them that though i try not to think of them all the time (thereby drawing them from wherever they are now) but that they are still there to me and that i still love and miss them. and that i hope wherever they may be, it's a good happy safe place for them to be. he tells me he will pass this along but that he's sure they already know that mommy still cares and misses them because he could tell it when he saw me the first time. that i am and always will be a Mommy down to the core.
he does not say this in any sort of tone that conveys he's trying to be nice. it's just the tone little kids use when they're bored and stating a fact and can we move it along to something interesting please.
such as the part where the past is in the past and less important than what's about to be, which isn't the present so much as the future.
which it would seem he knows about.
and wants to talk about.
there are other children (possibly him) that are about to be, or want to be, born/conceived/etc and he's there to discuss getting that under way.
the lady behind me Finally stops whimpering and has now taken a, if somewhat water-logged, interest in what's being said. she says she can't have kids. that she's too old and anyway who would she have them with...?
which seems to be the general commentary and concensus among us women (minus mom who wants No part in it spank-you-werde-much!) in the hq cellar.
the little boy looks at us, rolls his cute little eyes in that paradoxical cute/annoying way of children everywhere, and asks if we're terribly Sure about all that. as to say that we are too old and unloved to be able to reproduce is a bit much in the "oi, this what i have to deal with?!?" department.
this makes the lady behind me perk up with a rather surprising speed.
(seriously. i have never seen such a quick change of emotional rear-ended-ness as the apparent trafic three-sixty this chicano petite squeak took. it was like the tears-n-fears never happened and she was all about possibilities. i must say it was alarming to both myself and mom to observe. and mom was closer to it than i was.
for myself, i wasn't happy about this little flight-o-fancy-risk being Behind me where i couldn't keep track of her movements.)
the scene changes subtly to where several men are there now... well a couple at any rate.
one is talking to me and one is talking to the lady... it's unknown what the one talking to me is saying because at that point, the pov switches between the lady and the guy talking to her.
one pov from her view is that she's too old and unlovable to attract a mate much less have a kid. the flip of that is where the male is looking at her with mixed parts of sadness at her lack of inner love for herself, exasperation that she believes this of herself and the seeming annoyed determination to prove that not only is she wrong, but that He loves her and damn it wants to have kids with her. and therefore the getting/having kids is Completely possible because He thinks it is.
it's just a matter of getting her to get her head out of her butt and listen to reason.
which he does... after a fashion.
he, smartly i think, convinces her that maybe she and he could give it a go by sort of gently telling her he's interested in the whole proposition of the idea... that is if She would be. sort of a casual aside with a light touch of heavy handedness.
she gets the idea that Maybe this could happen... that at least it's worth a shot and well, she likes him anyway so if it doesn't work out they can still be friends, right?
they have sex. she whines that she thinks she didn't get pregnant. he sort of gently smirks and asks if she figured they only have sex once. she says she hadn't actually thought that far. he says that well, they could keep at it until she does get pregnant. and maybe even after that too if she's okay with that idea.
not once does he say what he's thinking... that he's slowly but surely trying to get her used to the idea of him being in the picture Permanently. that he's planning for forever but that he's willing to slowly let that idea take root in her psyche all on its very ownsome.
smart lad, that man. great at long term strategy with a scatter-wit.
not sure how things went for Me me and the guy i was "with". the dream doesn't really go there after i jump hosts.
all i know is that the couple of mes that weren't seem to have gotten their ducks in one basket and their eggs in a row because the next thing i know is i'm Me again, talking to the kid who's heading back in to the glowy bit of the place. he's got a smirk as he waves and cheekily says, "see you later... Momma."
and that's it. the whole thing. nuts and bolts and bits and all.
what's the import? elephino. dont' ask me, i'm just the dreamer.
~me