Archive for the ‘dreams’ Category

I had a visit from Tripod last night

I had a very short dream last night. In it, Tripod suddenly appeared next to me, looking happy, wanting to be petted. I petted him and then turned to another person in the room.

“Can you see Tripod?” I asked.

“Yes, I see him,” the person said, and came over to pet him. Then I turned to another person in the room.

“Can you see Tripod?”

“Yes, I see him,” the person said, and came over to pet him. We all stood and petted him for a minute, and then the dream ended.

I think I watched too many episodes of Medium.


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For the last couple of years, I have been telling my husband that I want a real honeymoon in Mexico for our 5th anniversary (I’ve been married three times and never had a honeymoon). Last year I went from politely asking to brooking no opposition, as being a stay-at-home caretaker continues to suck the vitality out of me.

This morning I took a long walk and thought about what is really important to me. I decided to propose a trade for one big-ticket item that means the world to me (honeymoon in Mexico) for something that means even more. I want land. MY land. THIS year. Not a distant goal. Not a “we’ll keep saving toward it” goal. NOW. MY LAND. So I told my husband I’d be willing to go for a straight-across trade: forever give up the honeymoon in exchange for a down-payment on a piece of land THIS year. After some hemming and hawing and jockeying for room, he agreed to make this our goal for this year.

He is in the process of opening a savings account at our local credit union, to position us for getting a loan. All I did was rename it to the LAND LOAN ACCOUNT. We had already decided to tell all family and friends that we want NO “things” for birthdays, Christmas, etc., but just wanted donations to our honeymoon fund. Now it has become the land fund.

I am turning 55 this year. I don’t want to wait until I am 65, all parentals dead, decrepit, and given up on dreams to go looking for land. I have been a renter since I was  18 years old. I want something to look forward to. I want some goddamn fucking roots. I want oak trees and pine trees.  Steve wants to sit outside naked. I want to hear birds, not cars. I want to grow stuff and raise animals.

I want  10-50 acres in the woods, where I can spend the rest of my years clearing brush, putting in a well, building fences, and spending my summers setting up an organic farm, hideaway, retirement home, and hopefully a small animal rescue sanctuary. When Steve finally retires, I want a place we can be happy and healthy and productive. A quiet place for soul nurturing and naked gardening.

For future birthdays and Christmas, I plan to hand out deposit slips to the savings account. Land.

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