The Day before Thanksgiving

Dragon Mood? -- life changing feelings

While I am woefully late blogging about this, I learned something life-changing the day before Thanksgiving.

I had just pulled into my usual parking spot at work and was walking into the building when my cell phone rang. It was Caroline. I knew that she, Ron, Josh and Leah were all flying to Arizona that morning to spend Thanksgiving with Greg and Colleen.

We exchanged greetings and pleasantries and then she said, "Mamacita, I'm sorry to do this over the phone, but ..." And shame on me, I didn't even give her the chance to say the words before I interrupted and asked, "Are you preggers?" I think she was taken aback either by my interruption or the word, "preggers," but after a second or two, she answered, "Yes!"

So, Mary. You are going to become a grandma. A GRANDMA! Imagine that!

Catching up, Madison visit

Dragon Mood? -- remembering and smiling

I knew this would happen. One day, it's Thursday and I can hardly wait to get on the road to Madison. Before you can say "lickety split," it's Wednesday, been there and back, and whew, where did the time go?

S was a champ and drove us the entire way. Driving her car may have had something to do with that. Not that she doesn't trust me. It's just that it's her car, you know?

We arrived about 1:15 a.m., Caroline met us at the door and Dakota stuck her nose in our crotches. And then danced and leapt around. Welcome!

Friday morning, Ron was in the kitchen, taking a break from his work routine, preparing to make Egg McRonbos for us. He not only made us breakfast, but French-pressed coffee as well. Delicious!

After eating, we cleaned up and headed out to St. Vinny's for our requisite visit. Gosh, what a visit! S found an aluminum frame lounger in near-perfect condition for $5, I found two pieces of pottery, Caroline a Fiesta dish along with a Hall china coffee mug. Steph also snagged four record albums (yes, vinyl!) for $1 a piece, while I picked up some 'pearl' earrings. Caroline got the best find though in a delightful, handmade rocking hobby horse for a small child. As she made her way across the big room, holding the hobby horse up to show me, I asked her, "Are you trying to tell me something?" Her answer was a big grin. (aside - While the 'deed' is not done, things are being set in motion for it to happen.) Oh yes, and Caroline also found a completely cute pair of angel wings, replete with feathers and shiny sequins sprinkled here and there. Halloween, watch out for a drunken angel!

Staggering out of St. Vinny's, arms loaded, we headed to a nearby Indian restaurant where Ron met us for lunch. Don't ask me what I ate. It was a buffet full of tasty, exotic dishes. I enjoyed virtually all of them ... well, maybe except the slightly chewy goat meat one. At Caroline's encouragement, I ordered a hot chai tea that was lovely and delicious. Not too sugary, with just the right amount of gingery warmth and zinginess. Hmm, I can still taste its yumminess.

Saturday was a bit of a slow start, but we made it to the Farmer's Market in downtown Madison. Oh my, it was every bit as busy and crowded with shoppers as I remembered. Every step of the four blocks-long market, there were stands replete with colorful veggies and tempting jams and humongous hearty mums and cheese curds and breads and honey and black Spanish radishes (just remember the amazing translation from 'jacquard' to 'daikon' -- "I speak Stephnie!")and too many other delicious treats to list. We went with two or three items in mind to purchase and left with Caroline's trusty backpack loaded to the brim. Chivalrous Ron toted the hefty thing around and never groaned, not even once.

We headed to the Soap Opera, but sidetracked ourselves into Paul's Club for the requisite spicy Bloody Marys. Yummy, as I knew they would be.

The Soap Opera was cozily intimate, busy and filled with sumptuous fragrances that always evoke an unexpected sense of well-being. I glided over to the table filled with Mistral soaps and began sniffing all the new 'flavors'. It's a place to simply give in to your senses, particularly the smell-icious one.

Saturday night, we all enjoyed Caroline's culinary gifts: corn chowder made with freshly frozen sweet corn and finely diced jalapenos (awesome!); Juliette tomatoes, fresh, backyard basil leaves and fresh mozzarella salad; and yummy fresh boiled shrimp with zingy homemade cocktail sauce bursting with horseradish. Talk about a feast! We ate our fill and then some.

The highlight of Sunday was a visit to the Sugar Shack, a vintage record shop. It was packed with album covers, vintage posters, memorabilia and crates and crates of old music. While Caroline and I poked around for a half an hour or so, Ron and S easily spent an hour plus sifting through the treasures awaiting their discovery. Meanwhile, Caroline and I settled down out in her trusty Mazda, called Uncle George for his early birthday celebration and talked with our cousins on speaker phone.

It was a great weekend!

singing "An-tih-suh-PAY-shunnnn"

Dragon Mood? -- like a drop of water on a hot skillet

While you can't see it through the thick fog of the internet's atmosphere, I am sitting here virtually dancing with anticipation at driving to Madison tomorrow night to see my beautiful daughter, Caroline, and her hubby, Ron. S is dancing too though she doesn't know it yet.

Friday night dream #2

Dragon Mood? -- exhilarated

Have you read my first remembered dream of Friday night? I'm still feeling quivery from it, just reading and recalling it.

Here's how my second dream began:

I was feeling lonely and went to visit Caroline [my daughter] - except Caroline was not living in Madison but more like an English hamlet out of a Harry Potter book.

We were in her backyard. It looked a bit cluttered with chairs and a firepit and other nameless things.

I don't remember telling her I was lonely, but she seemed to know that I needed some engagement, some comforting perhaps.

Caroline took what looked like some remnant of a structure, some 2 x 4s and some plywood, nailed together, 'climbed aboard' it and had me climb on too. Then we began to levitate off the ground, me holding tightly to Caroline, because I'm afraid of heights. [Editorial note: these Friday night dreams seem to be preoccupied with my irrational fears and phobias.]

The first few minutes of flying, I was focused on my fear, making sure to keep a firm grasp of Caroline (some might call it a 'death hold'), her strength and her confidence. I barely remember the ride.

When we came back to the ground of her backyard, she hopped off and I began to levitate off the ground myself. The structural remnant was morphing at the same time into something that felt more like a 4 x 4 post or even a pole. At this point, I wasn't feeling fear but exhilaration.

At first, I could bare lift myself off the ground, hovering only inches above. Then I began to get more lift, the ground began to fall away and Caroline began to grow smaller. I tentatively flew in the direction of her English hamlet house, painted a deep yellow, with this curious sponge-like texture. As I got closer, I realized with surprise that her house walls were made of baked cornbread with little flecks of green and red pepper embedded in them. Imagine that!

My confidence grew and I made more turns and flew higher. Yes, I was actually flying! Whoo-hoo!

Now as I looked down, Caroline's yard looked like a square in a patchwork quilt, smaller and just one of many. All the lawn chairs and yard equipment were gone along with Caroline. Where did she go, I wondered?

There was a slight shift in my dream and I was flying lower again. Now there were people standing around in the yards, watching as I flew above them. I had the dawning realization that I was no longer flying with my arms and legs wrapped around a pole, but a broomstick, yes, an honest-to-goodness broomstick! These people must think I'm a witch! I thought to myself.

Flying lower and slower, as I whooshed by them, individuals in the crowd started reaching out to me, many with hankies or tissues in their hands. As I flew by, they moved to hand me the hankie or as to wipe something off of my face. What's on my face? What's on my face?

A man made a swipe at my cheek as I flew by him. What's on my face?

No one said a word, but continued to offer me help.

What's on my face?

End of the dream.

When I woke up, I felt like pushing my obsessive tendencies to the side and allowing the exhilaration of flying to return!