Friday Five, Conscious Dreaming

I've had nightmares for as long as I can remember. They are vicious and come in every flavor of horror.

My husband Calvin doesn’t have nightmares—never had one. Lucky him. One day, I said, “Don’t you ever have a dream that goes bad? A nightmare that leaves you soaked in sweat and gasping for breath?” He said, “If they’re going bad, I fix them. I change the story.”

Via Google, I discovered this is called conscious dreaming and decided to try it. So, I made up endings for each type of nightmare I have. Here’s how it went:

Nightmare, type 1. Pursued by an evil creature on a horse through a dark wood.

My plan: I’d pull a shining sword from a scabbard, stab the evil creature through the heart, and lop off its head, à la Eowyn in Lord of the Rings.

My reality: Me to the evil creature, “You’ve made a mess of the woods—slime and monster droppings everywhere. Go away so I can clean up.” The evil creature slinks away, tail between its legs. And now, I feel bad for hurting the evil creature’s feelings.

2. Nightmare, type 2. Claustrophobic panic attack. I don’t have claustrophobia or panic attacks. Except in dreams.

Plan: I use superhuman strength—this is a dream after all—and burst whatever I’ve been shoved into.

Reality: (Discovering I’ve been shoved into a tight sack) “This is ridiculous. I am not claustrophobic and I don’t have panic attacks, so I’m going to wake up.” And I did.

3. Nightmare, type 3. Chased by a murderer and I can’t run away or scream.

 Plan: The murderer attacks. I raise and fire my gun. Afterward, I blow smoke from the muzzle.

Reality: My feet are stuck, I unstick them. But I don’t run. *Facepalm* Instead, I scream and start laughing. Cowed by laughter, the murderer retreats into darkness. Then, I do the happy dance.

4. Nightmare, type 4. Rotten teeth nightmare. According to Google, this nightmare is an expression of anxiety I’m feeling about losing my identity.

Plan: Um, I think I have this nightmare because I hate paying big dentist bills. Maybe I can pretend the dentist works for free.

Reality: I see holes in the back of my teeth. This dream is dumb—no one can see the back of their molars. Besides, the dentist says my teeth are fine, if only I’d stop grinding them. I tell the nightmare to go away and never come back. It works. But I still wish the dentist was free.

Nightmare, type 5. A pain nightmare is when real pain breaks into your dreams—30% of people with chronic, acute pain have pain dreams. Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is the gift that keeps on giving…

Plan: I’ll dream of a capsule containing a swirl of blue, red, and yellow mini-pills. A stained glass of pain relief. I’ll swallow the pill with a shot of bourbon. Presto. No more pain.

Reality: Yeah…I haven’t got this figured out yet. Maybe I can use that flaming sword leftover from the evil creature nightmare to kill the pain. One slicing strike. Pain dies…it dies a painful death. 😊 Sorry, I couldn’t resist that.

 

Notes on Your Sudden Disappearance, Book Review

 

Notes On Your Sudden Disappearance by Alison Espach

     The title of this novel could give the impression that it is a thriller—it’s not. It's something more. Notes on Your Sudden Disappearance tells the story of Kathy’s accidental death and whether her sister Sally, her family, or her boyfriend Billy will survive the guilt that haunts them.

     This elegantly written novel is about more than a single deadly accident. In its pages, the reader experiences four subsequent accidents in slow-motion—the unfolding tragedies of four ruined lives. The reactions of Kathy’s parents, Sally, and Billy wrenched my heart as they made one bad decision after another to staunch their pain. In spite of this, the novel is a story of redemption. While guilt is what brings Sally and Billy together and rips them apart, forgiveness and love finally unite them in peace.

     My one complaint is that there is a lot of teenage sexuality in this novel. While it makes sense in a novel that is a coming-of-age story, there were times it felt overdone and slowed the novel’s pace.

Four Stars!

Spring!

If you read my blog regularly, you'll know we moved to Winston-Salem three years ago and bought a home that suited our needs, i.e., a large room for my husband's office, a much smaller room for mine, etc. What we didn't realize at the time was how extensive the original gardens were. Or how neglected. Slowly, we are recovering the gardens getting rid of kudzu, poison ivy, blackberry brambles, wild roses, poison hemlock, and some weird stinky vine that sends out runners beneath the soil. Here are some photos of what we've found beneath the mess.

Azaleas.                                                                                                            Archangel.

I think this is an unusual variety of trumpet vine.

                        Solomon's seal                                                                                                                                                                                                  

     Deciduous magnolia called Jane magnolia.   

                           

Massive azalea blossoms the size of my hand.

Fat bumblebees are swarming the gardens.

Here's the reality of beautiful gardens. Lots and lots of sweat. And more yard waste than we can hope to compost, so most of it will go to the city compost. Plus, there are more bags of yard waste than you can see in the photo. And tons more still waiting to be cleared out. Huge, huge hugs to my husband who comes to the garden and says, "Tell me what to do."