Tuesday, September 20, 2011

why you should never have cereal at 4 in the morning.

Don't know if I feel like writing this down, but I'm waiting here for someone to come pick up my old fridge so, well.... (I'm not sure I like Craigslist sales - or perhaps other internet connections : kinda like "talk to twenty people who have to have something and are coming right over.  and wait and wait and wait for them and then finally one person arrives, three hours late, who says, "meh, eh. hm....  i'll think about it."


Okay.  So what's with the rodents?
Since I'm going to bother, I guess I'll write down the first of the rodent series - the one that stuck the most.  Briefly.  


I had taken a rat out of the oven.  A big one.  Alive.  He hadn't been in there long.  I looked down on him and noticed him noticing something moving to the left of him.  Then I notice him beginning to feel the burning - like happens when you are really hurt: no sensation for a small spell and then an overwhelming presence of pain.  It is clearly horrible, horrible for him and he cries out, cries, like a person.  I have to decide whether or not to beat him to death (which clearly will be clumsy and hard to do -- he's BIG)  or put him back in the oven.  [yes, another light-hearted entry from whimsical ol' me...].


Anyway - perhaps that in regards to recent grim readings on factory farming.
And that someone I know recently had to experiment with/ or learn of all the horrible varieties of rat-killers.  oof.  don't want to go there.


but my dream did.
seems I was in my mom's kitchen.  I had taken a long-deep nap and woke and she was gone, out of the house.  Some giant pot of turkey or turkey soup or something had boiled over on the stove.  I was deep in the kitchen when I noticed the broth everywhere and sensed there was more to it.  And in it then a big, drowned rat, and two bats, and then, as I looked closer, mice, many- all drowned, save one or two that were on their way out.  Then more and more little teeny little fetal mice - each perfect and tiny/tiny with a wee tail in its little golden orb.  Hundreds of them.  They had been drawn to the big, spilled feast.  An animal choice.  Not a good one.  Everywhere - there lives over before they even started.  


I knew I should clean the kitchen for my mom but I couldn't manage it.


I left.  There was some thing about trying to walk Zoe home four or so miles to New Jersey.  Many many trucks and lanes and a possibility of getting through, a possibility of not, or of her collar and leash pulling off and then having no control.  New York there in the background.  The question of should I go back?


Later, I'm home in Sacramento, D. is visiting, talking about the remodeling.  I look out the window.  (this is all one of those hyper-realistic dreams) and about two blocks away is a GIANT twister.  We're dead in  its path.  No way it's not going to hit in seconds.  I try to climb under something or into the coat closet but can't get my head in.  D. is out in the open, it seems, but has some experience with such things, being from the midwest, so I just hope he's okay.  There is no time for a word.  Everything is flying around.  The wind force is incredible and loud.  Too loud for shouting.  It lasts for a spell, a blur of color and mad sound, then its gone.  I am amazed the sky is totally blue.  Not a cloud in sight.  Of course, I have no roof anymore so I can see that.   We're all fine.  My mother visits.  We talk about how insanely fast and strong and literally out of the blue it was - how they happen like that now - we decide, as I gently pick a hundred tiny pieces of glass out of my face.


Nice dreams.
Nice set!
Gosh, I'm fun.


And, of course, no one came for the refrigerator....

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