Author: Denise

(Friday, September 19, 2025) waning crescent moon Virgo / tarot four of wands

I am working on my fairy tale project and decided to sift through my old dreams again. I typed in “2014” and this is the first one that came up, “Protection”:

(Valentine’s Day Friday, 2014) I have purchased a house from an elderly woman. I think her husband has passed away. She does not want to sell, but she is too old to take care of the place now.

In 2020 I did purchase a house from an elderly widow (Marvalene) and I will always miss my Plymouth house. From the dream: I prefer my house on Circle Park because of its large, private lot.  The living room in the newly purchased house: Hardwood floors are covered with old-fashioned wood. Very true.

Sunday, September 21 (fall equinox/eclipse): There is another element of this dream I did not realize is precognitive: Glass display cases in the living room hold boxes and boxes of firearm ammunition. It’s frightening. This morning I remembered the crack that looks like a bullet-hole in the medieval-style glass window at the front of my house.

A second dream from 2014 also has a prescient element. I did not know at the time of the dream I would move to southwest Minneapolis. The dream is called “My Path”:

I hear my friend Jeanne C’s disembodied voice directly behind me. I’m startled and don’t catch what she first says to me.

“Jeanne, is that you?” I cry out.

“Yes!” she says with her characteristic cackle. I turn in a complete circle but she is nowhere to be seen. Her voice seems to come from the other side of the concrete wall.

“You won’t find a man until you go to the southwest,” she says.

I’m baffled. Where in the southwest? Southwest of what? Do I move there or just visit? What kind of man: mentor, friend. lover, shadow? When does this meeting take place?

I suppose the dream could mean Arizona or New Mexico, but I think it means Tangletown.

(Thursday, September 18, 2025 / waning crescent moon Leo / tarot Wheel of Fortune / Oracle Positivity

This early morning dream has the beautiful, natural, emotional sensation I often experience in my dreams. A positive richness that is palpable in my body and soul. Like the Oracle card!

I am indoors, in a lovely house in a neighborhood I sometimes dream of. The streets curve and curve. Houses are on hills and because of the creative movement of the streets, they all face different directions. I look out a window and see nature, trees and grass and flowers. The sky, though, is dark, like dusk or dawn.

Three children are outside, two boys and a girl. They may be my grandchildren. The boys are next to a stone wall that looks ancient British. Covered by vines. There is a round arch and in front of it are two big piles of rich, black dirt. I head outside to rake the soil back into the earth, to show the children how it is done. But they are playing and move on. A lovely plant full of flowers is nearby and brings me joy.

I notice a tiny hill of black dirt that has been created by hand, maybe five feet tall. Flowers are intended to be planted so that the hill turns into a full bloom. I am trying to remember how the design was done, which flowers go where.

Of course some details have evaporated, but I know I am doing simple projects outside. Some gardening that involves deep digs into the earth. The importance behind this is not just about flowers and trees. Something metaphysical. Maybe climate change.. Maybe human need.

At the end of the dream I am inside my empty double garage. Putting tools away? A man stands nearby. The garage has drywall (with a few dings) and a rough little sculpture with a short message near the open door. Something a child may have done for fun.

Day notes:

I am so grateful to be dreaming again. I mentioned to my therapist that I was worried my lack of dreams was from dementia. I am rereading Dr. Villoldo’s book (Grow A New Brain) and he says dreams are needed for brain function.

Last night I watched the Zoom webinar about Celtic spirituality. It could have been better. But the retired professor from St. Kate’s reminded me that the Green Man is from Ireland. I had forgotten that. My wall sculpture has a white dove at the top (for Sheehan) and a Green Man at the bottom.

I have hired Field Outdoors again, this time to tweak the garden on the edge of the driveway. They haven’t started yet. Maybe they will do it in the spring. Today I spent about three hours pruning the Dogwoods in the backyard.

I remember that Hillary had had a miscarriage a long time ago. Maybe that is why there are three grandkids in this dream.

Sometimes the dark sky in dreams makes me think this could be another planet, not the Earth. Or a different dimension. I don’t know. I haven’t started writing my fairytale yet, but this dream makes me think that the scenes will be in the dark sky, full of stars. A different planet. That feels exactly right.

(Wednesday, September 17, 2025)

When I took off on my bike around lunchtime, I noticed the sixties-era BMW blue convertible I sometimes see parked in the neighbor’s driveway. When I was on the Lake Harriet trail, an older male biker and I saw that our red Specialized-brand bikes were identical. We had a quick chat. Later I biked past him a second time and we waved. The blue convertible drove past me on my way home along Harriet.