Thursday, March 18, 2010

Life Would Be A Dream, With Or Without Garrison Keillor

I have been having some strange dreams of late.

Linds, you'll be happy to know that you had a visitor last night. And that we galloped round your village with no thought for aches and pains along with about fifteen other bloggers. It was a bright, sunny day. You had bedrooms for everyone, and even a curious room you'd been finishing off that looked more like a long hallway-type closet.

I don't write this stuff - I just dream it.

I dreamed of Cutie and how much I miss her. Only this time she was about 18 months old instead of the young lady of four she is today. We played and snuggled and had a great time together.

There was a hot stone massage thrown in for good measure that lasted long enough. That in itself was a wonderful dream, being as hot stone massages NEVER last long enough. There was a carnival with a roller coaster, and strangely enough, NO GARRISON KEILLOR.

I always dream about Garrison Keillor. Mostly in my "Where, Oh Where Is The Bathroom???" dreams where I can't seem to find the toilet I so desperately need and I'm sharing Deep Thoughts with Garrison Keillor and then I seem to be naked for some reason and everyone and their brother is watching me and I'm doing the Potty Dance and WHERE IS THE BATHROOM???

Thankfully, I usually wake up (without Garrison Keillor) and find the toilet while still in my nightgown. And for this I am profoundly grateful. As is Mr. Keillor, since he doesn't have to go through this ordeal with me. If he knew about it, that is.

In other dreams of GK, I find that he has decided I'm the Ingrid Bergman to his Humphrey Bogart. I get to wear the big hats and use the Swedish/American accent, while he suffers through the love-me-but-let-me-go affair under huge, slow-moving fans in a tropical locale.

It breaks my heart every time.

Bear in mind, I'm a happily married, fifty-three year old, two-ton Tilly of a woman, and you see how ridiculous my dream life can be.

I mean really, I don't even OWN a hat.

With all I go through at night it's a wonder I don't wake up exhausted every morning.

But I'll give you least I'm not bored while I'm asleep.


Linds said...

"Shriek of hysterical laughter echoign from England"

LOVE it! Oh what a hoot it woudl be with you and 15 other mysterious bloggers taking the village by storm. We would have a fun. I want to hear more about what we all did in the dream - I suspect there was a lot of laughter and plenty of chatter too. I am so glad my house clearly expanded in dreamland. Not that 15 beds would be a problem. I would just line up the sleeping bags on the floor. Sorted. Sigh. Wouldn't it be wonderful.....

Angela said...

GK sneaks into my dreams too - but most of my English friends have no idea who he is! I have to explain he is the voice on the Honda ads.

Stumbled on your blog via Nanny Ree