don't worry about snakes in the garden when there are spiders in your head.
I had this weird dream last night that J and I lived in an old, abandoned church and it was raining hard outside and rain was coming thru the roof in torrents. I was running around in this long skirt and shirt, completely soaked, yelling to J (whom I never saw in the dream) that we needed Michelle to fix the roof before she fixed the floor (in some parts of the church, the floorboards were less than half there and in place were long, narrow planks over the gaping holes*).
Then I ran to the part of the church that wasn't home, that was still a working catholic church and there was the female priest (funny, because Michelle is ordained) that was leading a group of pro-life activists that included this poet I know (whom I know is not anti-choice) who kept talking about "them knowing we're here." They gave me dirty looks for being all wet, like a child you don't like but unfortunately have to watch for a family member that comes in from playing covered in mud and you don't do anything until their mother is about to pick them up. I watched them walk by and willed myself not to cry from that look and then the rainwater started to flood into the working part of the church, following them into the praying room, but it was going to slowly they didn't notice.
Suddenly, I was in a Jewel-Osco and running out, stealing some pet food, once again thru the pouring rain, into a van that sped off to a broken ranch house. We cut thru the barbed wire fence around the house, depilated as it was, and urgently searched the house for the rooms full of animals. There were ducks or rats in one room that someone was throwing into cages as quickly as possible. No animals could walk, altho they were trying and kept hurting themselves. I searched for the rooms full of pigs. There were two filled with pigs that I finally found- still none of them could walk and I stood there crying, only able to help the smallest ones. The ones that were over 50 pounds I couldn't carry to the car, and there were dozens that were several hundred pounds each. I kept shoving the small guinea pigs and pot-bellied pigs and baby pink pigs into the van, running back and forth while their broken legs bled and finally got dragged back into the van because we had no more room and drove off into the dark.
It was kind of disturbing and the I woke up to a call to go get a feral dog that was running around the alley that wasn't there by the time we got out of the house.
*It looked like the half-demolished church-school I explored one day, where the whole auditorium (on the second floor) floor had collapsed and there were only several, long, narrow boards that stretched across the floor that were crossed to get to the stage- there were half-rotten chairs and school desks everywhere, along with a still working organ.
Then I ran to the part of the church that wasn't home, that was still a working catholic church and there was the female priest (funny, because Michelle is ordained) that was leading a group of pro-life activists that included this poet I know (whom I know is not anti-choice) who kept talking about "them knowing we're here." They gave me dirty looks for being all wet, like a child you don't like but unfortunately have to watch for a family member that comes in from playing covered in mud and you don't do anything until their mother is about to pick them up. I watched them walk by and willed myself not to cry from that look and then the rainwater started to flood into the working part of the church, following them into the praying room, but it was going to slowly they didn't notice.
Suddenly, I was in a Jewel-Osco and running out, stealing some pet food, once again thru the pouring rain, into a van that sped off to a broken ranch house. We cut thru the barbed wire fence around the house, depilated as it was, and urgently searched the house for the rooms full of animals. There were ducks or rats in one room that someone was throwing into cages as quickly as possible. No animals could walk, altho they were trying and kept hurting themselves. I searched for the rooms full of pigs. There were two filled with pigs that I finally found- still none of them could walk and I stood there crying, only able to help the smallest ones. The ones that were over 50 pounds I couldn't carry to the car, and there were dozens that were several hundred pounds each. I kept shoving the small guinea pigs and pot-bellied pigs and baby pink pigs into the van, running back and forth while their broken legs bled and finally got dragged back into the van because we had no more room and drove off into the dark.
It was kind of disturbing and the I woke up to a call to go get a feral dog that was running around the alley that wasn't there by the time we got out of the house.
*It looked like the half-demolished church-school I explored one day, where the whole auditorium (on the second floor) floor had collapsed and there were only several, long, narrow boards that stretched across the floor that were crossed to get to the stage- there were half-rotten chairs and school desks everywhere, along with a still working organ.