Category: Denise

(Tuesday, September 8, 2026) waning crescent moon Leo

My mood is cheerful and extroverted. I own a very long one-story house full of visitors, friends. Green, grassy nature is outdoors. People make appointments to meet with me. At around 10 am someone is coming with a distinctive name I remember in the dream but am not sure of now. Perhaps Guillermo (a former coworker I still message with on LinkedIn).

I stand close by the front door, waiting for my attendee. I can see the room they will use for the appointment. Surprisingly, my old boss Louis enters at 10 am. He is very tall (6 foot 3 inches in waking life) and wearing casual management clothing. One of his daughters is with him. He is stern, not his usual emotional presence, so I leave him wander on his own. The other visitor doesn’t appear for me, but perhaps because Louis has arrived at the critical moment, I miss Guillermo’s entrance.

There is an outdoor scene in the dream, maybe a noon-time walk, which I always did when I worked in Eagan with Louis and Guillermo. I hike on a lovely path where three dogs greet me. They are different breeds. One has curly black fur. They all jump up and kiss me on my cheek.

When I arrive back in my longhouse, I talk about sculptures. On an outer front wall are three large cartoon-style metal spheres with big smiles. At this point in the dream Bonnie’s daughter Kelsi is visiting. She is not interested in the childlike cartoons. She wants to see the more artistic, deeply creative sculptures, of which there are dozens inside the roofless interior courtyard. We stand together and prepare to walk together to the gallery.

I think there is a small moment when words pop up within the dark interior of my brain. Many more elements of the dream occur. But this is all I recall.

Day notes:

Two former coworkers just found new jobs, and my guess is they are in their late fifties. Both are healthcare-related employments. Good for them!

My “sculpture project” right now is painting and fixing wood and drywall downstairs. A very hard project as nothing in the room has been touched in decades. The work is stressful but it will create a pleasant art studio for me in a few months. I’ll have to hire someone to do the ceilings. Carpet One in Bloomington will cover the asbestos tiles with new, safer tiles.

(Friday, August 28, 2026) lunar eclipse Pisces

On Wednesday morning Snowball brought a chipmunk into the house. It was able to escape from kitty’s sharp jaws. The tiny one ran into our bathroom and hid behind the bathtub until Thursday, when we found it in the entryway, inside the radiating baseboards. I decided to make a bowl of birdseeds and was almost able to coax chippy to scamper outside the front door. But I failed. It entered the baseboards again.

Chipmunk was extremely quiet and was unseen again until this morning. Chippy jumped out of the baseboards, searching for sunflower seeds. Again I was unable to convince the little ground squirrel to head outdoors. So I crafted the screen door, allowing it to remain open three inches (too tight for Snowball). I placed the seed bowl right outside the small crack. Enticement.

Half an hour later, the chipmunk headed to our entryway door. He saw the nuts and seeds, then popped out of the house. His freedom made me full of joy, convincing me to celebrate with a bike ride. As I was heading along the Minnehaha Creek trail, a different chipmunk rushed out of the woods, almost running in front of my heavy bike tire, but fortunately deciding to safely turn back into the forest.

(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.