Author: Denise

(Thursday, October 23, 2025) waxing crescent moon Scorpio

A dream about my parents’ house, completely different than the one they own in waking life. I am their child, not sure at what age I am in the first part of the dream. Denise in my teens or twenties, maybe.

I take a look at this house for the first time, even though they have been here for quite a while. The yard is tiny (not enough room for play) and I ask if a gravel part of the edging can be made into grass. The interior has not had any updates. I ask if that can be done too, particularly the kitchen and bathroom (needed in my Rustic Lodge house). In real life my parents have not done any substantial remodeling in the full 35 years they have owned their Cambridge house. They ignore me in the dream.

I move outside again, this time to the back. It has expanded to a grassy beach on the edge of a huge lake or ocean. Much of the grassy land is slightly underwater, perhaps the rise of the tide. I walk along it. My father and someone else are standing near the perimeter, close to a potential fall into the deep, dark water.

The dream shifts back into the house. Now there is a large, connected section that is for work. Office space. Even so, it is nearly empty, like the other side of the house. My age seems to have changed, as I wander around with my grandchildren, Wyn and Oona. They find a few toys inside various wall cabinets. I find a witch’s jeweled black hat that is on the top of a mysterious electrical device. Maybe computer-related. I pull off the bonnet and show it to my grandkids. It is short, like a trumpet flower. In the dream it reminds me of my Edie story. It feels like a gift.

Day notes:

The emotion of the dream is disconnection to my parents. Sad loneliness. Such an irritating dream I didn’t really even want to write it down.

I got a few emails yesterday from Susan. She is speaking at an art event Monday night (Minneapolis Convention Center). A member of her dream group that I have not met yet is taking down an exhibit she had at the MIA. I looked it up and it was one I visited with Wyn and Oona. We LOVED it. This all makes me feel I have not focused on art the way I should have in my life. Regret. It also makes me committed to writing well, until my words are gone.

I need creative office space in my house. I gave up my quiet upper story to Cullan, Wyn and Oona. Chris has a lovely studio, but I do not.

(Friday, October 17, 2025)

I have a vague memory of a tall male doctor standing behind me. Maybe he is my dream guide, since he is always tall and often standing behind me. I had a conversation with the dream doctor, but I don’t recall what either of us said.

Day notes:

I texted two of my waking-life doctors this week, my neurologist and my endocrinologist. An article in “Brain & Life” disturbed me as it says thyroid issues can cause dementia (reminding me of my 2022 surgery). But my endocrinologist says it can cause Alzheimer’s and frontotemporal dementia, but not semantic dementia.

(Thursday, October 16, 2025) waning crescent moon Leo / tarot Strength / oracle Tranquility

This is a long dream. Much of the early part has disintegrated, but the ending is extremely vivid. Maybe lucid.

My partner (perhaps Chris) and I are new visitors to a couple and their family. They live in a spacious, two-story house and often have guests, people who have been invited many times. Being a newbie, I feel a little left out. Not yet a member of this community. In the dream I see children playing, interacting.

I am putting things away in our suitcases, getting ready to leave. Grabbing shoes, jackets, clothes, then heading down the stairs to take our travel items outside. I chat a bit with the owner-husband before we walk out the door.

The sky is dark. Nature outdoors is phenomenal, huge and green. Acres and acres are a garden farm. The rows are tall and thick, growing round flower plants way above my head, the size of small trees. Even the land between the rows is grassy, not bare dirt. This astonishes me in the dream. I have never seen this kind of farm. The plants will be provided to companies like Bachman’s and others all over the world. Flowers for everyone.

Our vehicle is far down one of the lanes. To make it easier for me to throw our suitcases back into the car, my spouse hops in and drives it back near the large house. Gratefully, I put everything into the car from my first trip out of the house. Before I go back inside (to make sure I have snagged everything), I wander along a few of the straight, green trails. It fills my soul, the strength of growth. Alive and powerful.

One row, far to my left, shocks me. Marilyn Monroe is attached to a flower plant. Her skin is bright yellow. She looks at me. I run back to the house because I cannot process such a strange experience.

I head quickly up the stairs to check our guest room for a final look. I think I grab a sock or something small, and walk down, ready to leave. There is a hook on one wall holding several black sweatshirts (obviously for sale) with Marilyn’s birth and death dates printed on the front. Ghostly beings are pale artwork and her death date is 1955, even though in real life that date is 1962.

Day notes:

This dream is all about the rows of huge, beautiful plants. Another Mother Nature experience.

Yellow Marilyn reminds me of the sunflowers Chris is painting. Chris was born in 1955. He has been very sad thinking about his upcoming dialysis. Life lasts 4 to 5 years at stage 5 kidney disease. These days we both often think about “getting ready to leave.”

I became pregnant with Cullan at 2411 Monroe in Northeast. For most of my childhood I lived at 5870 Monroe in Fridley.