sad post

Grandpa, Grandma and Rapunzel

I woke up this morning crying. I had a dream about my grandma (who passed away ten years ago)… wait, don’t stop reading! This is not a blog about my dream!

Why is it that blogging about dreams is so boring? I don’t know why this is true but even when the best bloggers blog their dreams I find myself clicking away. It’s just the way it is, I guess. Either way, this post is not about my dream. Besides, it’s just a 15-minute post anyway so you won’t miss much if you click away.

So anyway! I dreamt that my grandma came to visit me as a ghost. She was so small and collapsed into herself in her ruffled lacy pink dress… just how I remember her. She wanted to hug me because I was sad over something or other but when I went to hug her back, she told me not to because all the other people in the room would see me hugging someone invisible and think it strange.

That is so like my grandma to be worried about that and so much like me. Anyway, I woke up and I never did hug her. But it wasn’t terribly sad other than the fact that I miss her and I really wish she was still alive. I woke up crying just the same. It’s kind of weird to wake up with real tears in your eyes. I didn’t know I could cry in my sleep.

Olive Alverna McConnaughy

No matter how hard I tried to shake those tears, I couldn’t. They just kept coming. Everyone else in the house was still asleep so I sat in bed and thought and thought about my grandma and how the last time I had a dream about her it was the day that my sister-in-law CC miscarried her baby Ashley. Was Grandma trying to tell me that someone was going to die again? I really doubt that but I just felt heavy-hearted about it anyway.

I walked out into the cold living room and called my grandpa. Big mistake. It was 6:30 in the morning and I woke him up. I’m amazed that he even picked up the phone. He’s been in the hospital lately and not well at all. He didn’t seem too upset at me for waking him up but he could barely hear me anyway. He has terrible hearing and I have a soft voice. Together those two things make it impossible for us to communicate. It didn’t help that I was fighting back tears and making horrible gasping sounds in between my over-enunciated sentences. I don’t think he understood a word I said. I hung up feeling frustrated.

What a weird way to start my day. Go hug your grandma. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry!

Note: the little girl on my Grandma’s lap is not Bug. It’s my niece Rapunzel.

tic tic tic

the book that is wrecking havoc on my life

I’m reading this book because it was displayed prominently at the library. I’m a sucker for a good cover design and I’d heard about it so I figured I’d see what all the fuss was about. Well, now it has me questioning everything I buy at the grocery store and forget about eating out ever again (not that we do that much anyway since Toby has such an aversion to restaurants). I can’t even buy bread anymore without thinking about guar gum and monoglycerides. It’s got me all in a tizzy. Anybody have a good wheat bread recipe?

everyday my French press mocks me

You can’t really tell in this picture but every morning when I make my delicious French Press coffee I have to stare at myself reflecting in the lid with a bulging double chin. I hate it! In my mind I look just fine and then I look down and say, Ack! Who is that middle-aged person looking back at me?!! Of course I know that I am a three-dimensional person who is more than just the sum of her pudgy parts. But still it does sort of put a small teeny-tiny damper on an otherwise very pleasant part of my morning.

everything I touch is pink pink is the new green

The pinkness is killing me. I don’t know if you’ve heard but Bug is obsessed with pink now. The world is color-coded for her and if you remember how much she loved green then you will realize how consuming this new love of pink is. Hot pink to be specific but sometimes she’ll settle for other shades. Everything must be pink. There were tears involved on the day that you see her wearing jeans and a light pink shirt. Thankfully, she rectified the desperate situation with some pink sunglasses or else I don’t think I’d ever have gotten her to leave the house. She seriously wears pink puffy skirts (not tutus—they’re too scratchy) and a hard pink plastic crown EVERYDAY. It’s been going on for a month now.

I wanted to have a snow birthday party for her this year with a tram ride to the top of a mountain in Palm Springs but I am having doubts that I can pull that off with a hot pink color palette. Hot pink snow boots maybe? Good thing it’s a long way off.