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Jun. 25th, 2004
Some pretty odd dreams last night... the bits I remember most are:
...having a fire in some kind of glued-together low stone ring, about ten or twelve feet across, on the concrete of my patio (not such a great idea under the patio roof!) which attracted a deer watching over the backyard fence. It was a doe, not a stag; though the fence was a bit different than it actually is in waking life, still it would have had to be about seven feet tall at the shoulder to be looking over the fence the way it was. Then some people started carving a hole through another part of the fence (which was mostly ivy, like it really is) with chainsaws, to come up to the patio to do something. They were all men and were bundled up in winter clothing, with beanies and scarves covering most of their faces. Their manner was menacing but not exactly of criminal intent; nevertheless we all retreated indoors to phone 911.
...finding some kind of evaluation or tracking sheet which recorded observations at checkups (?) or something at various stages of my growth from infancy through age 4, and the entry on age 3 being noted that I had said I wanted to "go back with/to the Feeorin". "Feeorin" is a Robin-Artisson-craft (I hesitate to call it a "tradition", but it's certainly a characteristic body of writing and practice) word for the blend of faery beings and the dead that turns up in folklore and traditional craft. ( Definition from his lexicon ) As far as I know, I never actually said such a thing when I was three years old, but it gave me chills in the dream and in the half-waking state that I was in shortly after. I had to think several times to rivet that bit into my memory so I would still have it when I actually woke up.
...having a fire in some kind of glued-together low stone ring, about ten or twelve feet across, on the concrete of my patio (not such a great idea under the patio roof!) which attracted a deer watching over the backyard fence. It was a doe, not a stag; though the fence was a bit different than it actually is in waking life, still it would have had to be about seven feet tall at the shoulder to be looking over the fence the way it was. Then some people started carving a hole through another part of the fence (which was mostly ivy, like it really is) with chainsaws, to come up to the patio to do something. They were all men and were bundled up in winter clothing, with beanies and scarves covering most of their faces. Their manner was menacing but not exactly of criminal intent; nevertheless we all retreated indoors to phone 911.
...finding some kind of evaluation or tracking sheet which recorded observations at checkups (?) or something at various stages of my growth from infancy through age 4, and the entry on age 3 being noted that I had said I wanted to "go back with/to the Feeorin". "Feeorin" is a Robin-Artisson-craft (I hesitate to call it a "tradition", but it's certainly a characteristic body of writing and practice) word for the blend of faery beings and the dead that turns up in folklore and traditional craft. ( Definition from his lexicon ) As far as I know, I never actually said such a thing when I was three years old, but it gave me chills in the dream and in the half-waking state that I was in shortly after. I had to think several times to rivet that bit into my memory so I would still have it when I actually woke up.
Some pretty odd dreams last night... the bits I remember most are:
...having a fire in some kind of glued-together low stone ring, about ten or twelve feet across, on the concrete of my patio (not such a great idea under the patio roof!) which attracted a deer watching over the backyard fence. It was a doe, not a stag; though the fence was a bit different than it actually is in waking life, still it would have had to be about seven feet tall at the shoulder to be looking over the fence the way it was. Then some people started carving a hole through another part of the fence (which was mostly ivy, like it really is) with chainsaws, to come up to the patio to do something. They were all men and were bundled up in winter clothing, with beanies and scarves covering most of their faces. Their manner was menacing but not exactly of criminal intent; nevertheless we all retreated indoors to phone 911.
...finding some kind of evaluation or tracking sheet which recorded observations at checkups (?) or something at various stages of my growth from infancy through age 4, and the entry on age 3 being noted that I had said I wanted to "go back with/to the Feeorin". "Feeorin" is a Robin-Artisson-craft (I hesitate to call it a "tradition", but it's certainly a characteristic body of writing and practice) word for the blend of faery beings and the dead that turns up in folklore and traditional craft. ( Definition from his lexicon ) As far as I know, I never actually said such a thing when I was three years old, but it gave me chills in the dream and in the half-waking state that I was in shortly after. I had to think several times to rivet that bit into my memory so I would still have it when I actually woke up.
...having a fire in some kind of glued-together low stone ring, about ten or twelve feet across, on the concrete of my patio (not such a great idea under the patio roof!) which attracted a deer watching over the backyard fence. It was a doe, not a stag; though the fence was a bit different than it actually is in waking life, still it would have had to be about seven feet tall at the shoulder to be looking over the fence the way it was. Then some people started carving a hole through another part of the fence (which was mostly ivy, like it really is) with chainsaws, to come up to the patio to do something. They were all men and were bundled up in winter clothing, with beanies and scarves covering most of their faces. Their manner was menacing but not exactly of criminal intent; nevertheless we all retreated indoors to phone 911.
...finding some kind of evaluation or tracking sheet which recorded observations at checkups (?) or something at various stages of my growth from infancy through age 4, and the entry on age 3 being noted that I had said I wanted to "go back with/to the Feeorin". "Feeorin" is a Robin-Artisson-craft (I hesitate to call it a "tradition", but it's certainly a characteristic body of writing and practice) word for the blend of faery beings and the dead that turns up in folklore and traditional craft. ( Definition from his lexicon ) As far as I know, I never actually said such a thing when I was three years old, but it gave me chills in the dream and in the half-waking state that I was in shortly after. I had to think several times to rivet that bit into my memory so I would still have it when I actually woke up.