Dream a little dream…..

Dreams are a funny thing, now aren’t they.

There are different varieties of dreams….

The kind we do when we sleep at night.
Then there are aspirations, hopes, and life ambitions.
The fantasy kind… where you dream about winning the lottery.
And the poetic variety…. pleasant… “Oh the date was a dream.” OR “He was just dreamy.”

Yep. Dreams. The sleeping kind are the ones that really get me though.

I mean…. what the heck? They come out of nowhere. They can be happy, sad, funny, scary.  You name it…. they ARE.

Sometimes they are exactly how things are in real life and other times they are just whopper-jawed.  Sideways.  Madcapped and zany.  Whack-a-doodle-do.

Last night, I dreamed I was at a huge social event with my friends (that I worked with at the Preble County District Library… about 100 years ago). Some of those friends are still alive and some are not. But in the dream, we were all doing shots of Tabasco Sauce… all different kinds. Specifically, Diane K and I, were really knocking them back.   Some of that Tabasco Sauce was upward of $500 per bottle… various flavors, and colors. Then my old friends from high school started showing up.. intermingling in dreamscape. My friend “Farmer” was playing the cello. As far as I know… she doesn’t play it in real life. Again.. I ask you…. what the heck?

The night before that, I was in a huge bike race, and we were all staying at the Golden Inn in New Paris. My real-life friends own it. But the Golden Inn that appeared in the dream was not the one on Rt. 40. I told my friends, Lea Ann and Jeff, that hundreds and hundreds of people would be showing up without reservations. I kept saying…”Build it and they will come.”  They were directing traffic with those orange airplane-runway-wands.


Another one I had was about a Frog Prom at our pond.  They were all dancing around in couples.  There was one toad who was all dressed up in a white tuxedo… but he also had on red-high-heeled sparkly shoes. There was money stuffed in all his pockets.  He was doing John Travolta moves from Saturday Night Fever.  And that was it. He was just strutting along in all his garb…. eating insects.

Please… I know there is an awful lot of psychoanalyzing happening on the other side of this monitor.  I am fully aware that I am loopier than loopy.

But….I’m telling you. Dreams make me wonder like crazy.
This amphibian dream in particular brought up all sorts of questions.

If frogs did wear shoes… what kind would they wear?

Probably open-toad.

Or if they were rich…. were would they keep all their money?

I’m thinking….  at the river bank.

If frogs ate bugs from Europe… what kind would they be?

French Flies.

Okay….. I better stop now. It is getting late… and I want to see what might be in my dreams tonight.  They might be as fine as frogs hair.  Or they could by hoppy.  Or….

You know.  Maybe I should lay off the Tabasco Sauce for a while…..

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