I am going canoeing with my mom. I go to a sporting goods store. I see a man carrying a pink canoe. He is a customer as well. I ask him if I can buy the canoe and he says yes. I take the canoe to Shady Oak (where I grew up) and tell my mom I bought a pink canoe for us. I explain that it is a good idea because people can see us better. Somehow this will keep us safer than a basic metal canoe. She is not pleased. I then realize we do not have paddles. My dad takes me to the garage. He thinks he might have some paddles. The garage is very neat with all these tools hanging up on hooks. However, there are no paddles.
Two Clothing Dreams
(Sunday, August 23, 2026)
Tomorrow is Chris’ 71st birthday.
Dream 1: Fragments, really. Bonnie is in the dream. She is managing a clothing project. I don’t know where the clothing goes. I don’t see any in the dream, but I am working on finding particular clothing that match Bonnie’s definition of the wearable bits.
Dream 2: A much longer dream, a dream about constriction. I am staying with my original family (including my mother) in a huge building, probably a hotel. I need a shower, so I grab clothing out of my suitcase, including a black pair of pants and a black-and-white striped t-shirt. I notice that I am taking my last pair of underwear, so realize I need to buy more or wash what I have. The open suitcase is nearly empty.
I search through numerous hallways and find the tiniest shower I have ever seen. An older woman is next to me but she is fine with me showering first. She smiles and walks away.
I can barely fit into the shower. It is very shallow and tight. It also has glass all the way down to my waist: anyone would be able to see my naked upper body as they pass by.
In the dream-shower I mostly focus on washing my long hair. It is nearly impossible to turn, to circle around inside the structure. Hard to breathe. As I end this shower and walk out of the door, I realize I kept my t-shirt on to protect an outer view of my body (because I see many people moving around the hotel). Now one of my tasks of the day is to shop for more clothes, like dream 1.
Day notes:
Yes, I need a shower today.
Spending three days at HCMC (a gigantic building full of people, like the one in the dream) with Chris was highly stressful. I am exhausted. It seems his hearing is nearly completely gone. I have to put my mouth next to his right ear and talk to him very loudly. He adjusted his TV software, adding words, since he cannot hear the audio.
I wonder if the friendly woman in dream 2 was a visitation from Marveleen Peterson (the woman who lived here for 40 years). She was short and had been a nurse. In the end, she could not walk so our neighbor Vicky (who passed away this spring) used to come over to help Marveleen take a shower. Marvaleen died at the age of 96, the same age as Chris’ mom Katherine. She was short too.
Synchronicity: Audio
(Friday, August 21, 2026) waxing gibbous moon Sagittarius
After Chris’ two ER visits this week, we met with an audiology doctor at HCMC who tested his hearing. I will have the exact same event next week, a hearing test on Thursday (although with a different doctor). I have been feeling like I need hearing aids, and he definitely does because even though today an ENT (Ear, Nose & Throat) doctor was able to remove fluid from both of his ears, he was told his hearing will never go back to normal.
He is deeply upset, angry, about losing hearing. He has been obsessed with concerts and music all of his life: a traveling Deadhead, and much more.
I am grieving my loss of words, since I have been a lover of writing and reading all of my life.