December 26, 2004

Weird Dreams

If you had any doubts before that I have the weirdest dreams on earth, you won't after this column.

Backing up a bit, I probably won't be around tomorrow since I plan to spend it cleaning if my spirit will allow it at all.  I was supposed to be doing that today, but a foul mood from Eric, PMS from hell (dammit, I NEVER used to have this beast) making me want to brutally kill every living thing in this house that is over 6 feet tall and named Eric and the fact that it is something like -70 degrees outside is undermining my interest in being productive, so I've spent the day sitting and cramping and moping a good bit.  A day of mope without comfort food must be followed by a day of penitent cleaning according to some bullshit woman handbook somewhere, I am quite sure.  My eyeballs hurt, my tummy hurts, my back hurts, my head hurts and want to be pampered.  In lieu of that (as it was so incredibly not forthcoming that in other reviews it would be laughable), self-pity took over.  I am reading about the cool shit other people got for Christmas and wished I hadn't been as noble as I was.  I have to remember for future reference how much noble sucks.

So tomorrow is repent cleaning and the summoning up of energy I don't have now and the reclaiming of my home.  Appraiser comes on Wednesday afternoon and the last thing I want is her having the impression that our family living here actually devalued the home beyond the equity that has accrued.  The whole point is to pay off bills and get a cash out so we can live without raising the mortgage.  Goal in sight, prayers ascending this Full Moon day.

 That catching you up to where we are now and where we will be tomorrow when I'm not writing in the nonsoapy, here are the dreams, in chronological order rather than descending order of weirdness.

Monday, December 20th

Dreamed I was in a thrift store I hadn't seen before , but had a metaphysical section (score!) and a clothes that fit me section and a major book section.  Eric was there with me, but kids were not.  As I went through this thrift store (Eric will milling about doing whatever Eric does when I'm not paying attention to him), I was loading up on stuff before I realized that the store had absolutely everything in it I'd ever wished for, plus a bunch of shit that I didn't even know to wish for that I wanted.  I found Eric and told him that even though the prices were great, I knew we weren't going to have enough money to buy all I wanted.  The lady behind the counter overheard me and said, "Mrs. Rasbold?"  I turned around, did not recognize her and was surprised she knew me.  "Yes?"  She looked 1000 different kinds of puzzled and said, "Why would you buy any of this?  This is YOUR store."  ?!  Party!  Then I woke up, so I don't know if I closed the store down and played with my crap or if other people bought my crap.  I was feeling rather possessive of the crap in my dream, so I don't imagine I was particularly generous with selling said crap.

Tuesday, December 21st

Didn't sleep well due to a pesky cold and couldn't get a nice enough sleep cycle to dream well.  No dice.

Wednesday, December 22nd

Made up for Tuesday.  My grandfather was alive.  I adore my grandfather.  He was a robust, large, "Big Fish" of a man (with humility like no other, however) who loved to tell stories and spend time with his grandchildren and help others.  He died several years ago on Christmas Day, shriveled to about 90 pounds, wearing diapers and curled into a fetal position... and he knew it.  It was horrible. 

In my dream, he was alive and healthy and jovial again.  But he had decided to die.  He invited everyone to his own funeral and had arranged for a doctor to give him a lethal injection that would let him drift off into that never ending sleep, floating off our mortal coil, so to speak.  I was horrified, hysterical and trying to beg him out of it.  I couldn't bear to lose him.  He was explaining how he just didn't want to be here any more.  He was ready to go.  Tears were streaming down my face.  Nothing I could say was going to change his mind.  They were going to take this healthy, vibrant man and ease him away from us forever.

I went to the bathroom to collect myself and while I was gone, the funeral began.  I could hear people singing softly.  I hurried out and realized they were singing, "Send In The Clowns."  I pushed my way past hundreds of smiling people, trying to get to where he was. I kept getting blocked and pushed aside, but I finally broke through.  He was smiling, even through the painted clown smile he was wearing.  He was in full clown gear:  big shoes, plaid pants, giant necktie, full face paint, white gloves.  He was resting on a gigantic representation of an Operation game board and his body lined up with that of the Operation guy.  His right arm was tied to the board and as I got there, the doctor injected something into him and his nose lit up.  He smiled more brightly and was gone.  So was my dream.

Thursday, December 23rd

I was at the branch of the river that runs through Eric's mining claim.  It's more like a sturdy, flowing creek there, about 20 feet across.  It was a nice day and we were there with Eric's father and his father's girlfriend, Ann.  We felt the ground start to rumble and Eric's dad said, "Something big is coming.  Better move the chairs."  We backed up the lawn chairs we'd been sitting in and the rumbling became much louder.  The trees on each side of the road down to the river started bending way as a huge hamster ball made its way down the path.  We were just far enough to the side to avoid getting mowed over.  There were two people inside the hamster ball, smiling, laughing and working hard to keep it rolling in the right direction.  They waved at us and we waved back.  They rolled the hamster ball into the creek and went on across to the other side, up the bank and out of sight.  We moved our chairs back to where they were and continued our conversation.

Friday, December 24th

I dreamed about two couples, my friend Sherry and her husband Scott (and in dreaming this, I was reminded that Paul and I also were friends with a couple named Scott and Sherry) and Lucy Coe and Kevin Collins from General Hospital (go figure).  Eric told me that he wanted to engage in a sexual relationship (mind you, in real life, not only does he not know any of these people, but the idea of a polyamorous relationship would NOT be considered, much less suggested)  with them in a swappy kind of way.  At first, I was deeply offended in that "what, I'm not enough for you?" way, then I started to consider benefits for myself and agreed that it might be a good thing.  There would be no "slot b to slot b" action, only a rearranging of the tab a slot b situations, if you catch my drift.  I woke up before I found out if it benefited me in any particular way.  Both Lucy Coe and Sherry may rest assured that none of the consideration of the idea translated into real life.  Just another weird dream.

Saturday, December 25th

I was at a General Hospital fan event, sitting on the front row.  Maurice Benard (Sonny on General Hospital for you nonsoap people) walked out on stage and reached his hand down, giving his head a little jerk, indicating I should get on stage with him.  I took his hand and got on stage and he said (no microphone, so just for me), "I hear you make the best peanut butter fudge in the country and I intend to get me some of it.  Now what do I have to do to make that happen?"  Then he tongue kissed me for about 2-3 minutes while I started thinking about making a whole lot of peanut butter fudge.  I don't particularly like Sonny on GH, but wow. I was ready to make some fudge.  A whole lot of it.  (I do make good fudge)  I remember that Nancy Lee Grahn (Alexis on GH) had been sitting in the audience next to me and when he kissed me, she said, "Oh for Chrissakes" and got up and left.  I remembered not caring and thinking I'd kiss now, then make fudge and deal with her later.

Saturday, December 25th, Dream #2

(Strange because I only slept about 4-5 hours last night and managed two dreams that I remember.)  Eric's mother was here to visit (different person than the one who was with me when the hamster ball rolled past) and brought LOTS of suitcases with her.  I asked her where she wanted us to take them and she said to take them out back.   We did and I went inside to cook lunch for us.  Delena came running in to tell me to come look what Grandma brought and when I got outside, she had set up all of these racks in the back yard and they were covered with the prettiest clothes, purses, jewelry, shoes, books and all kids of stuff that were just beautiful.  All in my taste and Delena's, with gothy clothes for her and such.  She told us she'd brought them all for us and to enjoy!  When I stopped dreaming, we were talking, bug-eyed, through these awesome clothes.  This dream is interesting because to my knowledge and based on the evidence I've seen, Eric's mother doesn't have much affection for me and doesn't feel I've brought anything particularly positive to her son's life and pretty much tolerates me because I'm there, don't appear to be going anywhere soon and it would be rude to do otherwise.  I can't remember the last time she and I actually spoke, although she used to call me and we'd have good talks.  Now she calls Eric on his cell phone and talks to him.  She and her husband have always been extremely good to us, so I have no cause for real complaint.  I just get the feeling she doesn't think much of me as a person.

As I said, strange dreams.

But no hungry animal dreams.  :)

I have definitely come a long way from the months and months of no dream memory after first moving here in March.  Can you believe it has been nearly a year since we found out our rental house was going on the market.  Goddess bless Maurine, the broker, who started us on the road to even imagining we could own a house! 

So I'll likely be around on Tuesday, with any luck telling you how sparkly my house looks and how ready for Ms Generously Minded Appraiser Woman I am.  If anyone would be so kind as to come talk to me while I clean and wipe a window or five, I'd be forever grateful.

See You Tuesday,

December 24, 2004

The laundry is aptly savored, washed, put away, on hangers and a new batch is accumulating.  I actually went through the kids' pajama tub.  They have a big, deep Rubbermaid tub that they keep their jammies in.  They both wear the same size jammies, so they interchange, but they also often go to sleep in their clothes (shut up), so the jammies get used once in a while.  (They take their baths in the morning)  This means I didn't go through the jammie tub for a while, so when I got into it, I found some jewels, like a couple of pairs of lost jeans (score!) and one of Spooky's old play socks.  :(  Major bummer.  I still miss him so much. 

I had an interesting experience yesterday looking for cats.  We have been wanting a couple more cats ever since Spooky went away.  The adoption outreach programs around here are a little pricey since they include upkeep of the animal, spaying or neutering, shots, worming and all testing.  I have never actually paid for a homeless animal before.  Of course, we get them spayed/neutered and such.  I tend to find my animals where they've been abandoned or else someone is moving and can't take theirs with them.  We got Creep when a neighbor's cat had kittens.  Usually, I am surrounded by people who are begging you to take cats off their hands.  Spooky has been gone for more than three months and no cats. 

So I heard about a humane society in Diamond Springs and yesterday, while in town, Delena and I decided to check it out.  The little woman who was there must have taken an instant dislike to us.  Evidently, it is quite a tricky proposition to appropriately place a used cat because she put us through the frowning third degree.  She was worried that we have small children in the house because small children carry cats by the head.  She was worried that we live in Grizzly Flats because Delena mentioned she was partial to black cats and "in Grizzly Flats they have cults who do horrible things to black cats, especially at Halloween."  Since the entire population of Grizzly Flats consists of us, Delena's friend, Sabrina and her family, our neighbor, Steve and a few hundred members of "The Committee" who put on Hamburger Night every Friday through the Summer, I find that assertion suspect.  I started to ask her if she had any points of contact for the cults on the likelihood that they were Witches who had been mislabeled as cat killing cults, but thought I'd err on the side of caution lest I be tossed into the parking lot by this wiry little hellcat of an outreach lady.  At least now I know that Grizzly Flats has an ominous cat sacrificing reputation.  See how we are?  I knew there was something sinister about Grizzly Flats Community Church.  It has that Thomas Tryon/Shirley Jackson feel to it.  If I could break into it, there might be a cat store room where I can liberate some potential sacrifices.

So here I stand with St Agnes, Protector of Used Cats, trying to convince her that I am worthy to buy one of her used cats.  She finally, reluctantly, confessed that some 8-10 week old kitties were coming in today.  Ran it past Eric, who really wants kitties, but he decided he wanted to wait until after the appraisal on Wednesday.  (Hurray!  It is actually scheduled!)

Since he and Delena will be picking up on Friday, a week from today, I suspect that unless St Agnes has a really good memory, he will have to go through the whole process of convincing her he's worthy. 

I still want a weenie dog. 


So tell me, appraisers, brokers and appraisees out there.  How showcase should the house be when the appraiser comes?  I haven't done this before.  With any luck, the refi will be done by mid-January, 2-3 weeks.  When that happens, we should be OK.  It will pay off enough of our bills (car, for instance) without raising our payments so that it will be as though we have another part time job coming into the budget.  The Universe is definitely making us work for this.  Based on what we were originally told, it should have been done this week.  Nothing is final yet, but it's much, much closer to being final. 

Josh and Valerie were able to finally get a car, so they are bringing the grandkids up here tomorrow instead of us going to Sacramento, which suits me just fine.  I still get extremely sick riding to Sac and this is much better. 

Today is Eric Rasbold Day and he is forbidden from doing any housework and gets anything he asks for.  He's still asleep upstairs at the moment, so we will see the degree to which he takes advantage of this.  New Year's Eve is Katrina Rasbold Day, or so I have deemed.  Something tells me I should have scheduled MY day first to see how it plays out, then gauge his day accordingly. 

My natural inclination toward generosity is going to be the undoing of me.

Joe was telling me that one of his favorite memories of childhood was a practice Paul and I had for many years of taking each son out in turn on the weekend.  Each week, one would have "their" day when they got our undivided attention and were allowed to choose a restaurant where we would have lunch.  We'd usually go shopping as well and buy them a small something.  Paul and I really enjoyed it as well. It gave us a good opportunity to get to know each child as an individual rather than as a group.  This went on until our first divorce, then I couldn't afford to go out to eat much.  His memory, coupled with the knowledge that I will soon have 5 days a week of alone time after Dylan starts public school and Nathan goes to full days on January 3rd, prompted me to start the same tradition with my little kids.  Now, each weekend when I go to town, the kids will take turns going with me while the other two get at home time with Dad.  I would love it if we could both go, but babysitting isn't available and this is the next best thing.  When they are older and can babysit themselves, Dad can go too.  Meanwhile, I get to focus on my kiddies and always know I have special time with each one.

Oh!  I just did the coolest thing!!  Nathan wanted to be a king with a crown and a mustache.  I had an old soft plastic crown in the shed that we used for a "Lugh at the Gate" skit a couple of years ago.  It was behind a buttload of boxes and I could see it, but couldn't get it it.  With a bamboo torch, I was able to snag it and safely maneuver it over the boxes (yay me!).  Then, we tied his fleece Spongebob blanket over his shoulder like a robe, but what to do about the mustache??  I put a strip of scotch tape on his upper lip and I could use a sharpie marker to draw an altogether respectable mustache on to the tapeYeah, buddeee!

The tape even worked its way off without trauma.  :)

Life is great!  Have a Happy Holiday, Christmas folks.


December 22, 2004

First off, I have started a separate journal, this time a Live Journal.  I've had a rush, as is typical of the dark, Winter times, of wonderful spiritual conversations with people and rather than clog up this journal with lots of religious and spiritual talk that some folks might not be interested in, I have given them their own little home.  This is the link:

I hope to update it at least a couple of times a week.  I've been blessed with some really cool experiences and writing them out helps me to process them better.

Also, part of our "Winter Work" for planning out our Spring planting involves journaling about the categories we picked at Solstice, so this will give me an online place to do that.  When I write in long hand, my head is going faster than my hand and it gets frustrating for me. I tend to lose thoughts before I can get them down.

I got my house very clean yesterday, so I am most cocky today.  strut strut strut  I still have some pans to wash (around 9pm last night, I said, "That's enough!") and laundry to do, but I can do that at a casual pace today.  Savor that laundry! (ha ha)

We also took down the tree yesterday and my home is back to normal.  Next year, I have decided that we will retire the 20+ year old artificial tree (1981, so what?  23?) in favor of a brand new one with the lights already attached.  I figure an investment every 20 years isn't bad.  Poor Eric tries, but one of the few things at which the guy does not excel is light placement.  He winds the lights around the tree until it looks like it is being restrained by the strands rather than decorated.  Then the tree spends the entire holiday looking like a kidnap victim.  It makes me want to put a blindfold on its top rather than an angel.  I figure the pre-lighted tree will save us all a great deal of furrowed browdom.

I love holiday decorations, but get easily bored by them, then start craving my old arrangement.  My house was happy to be back to normal again.


I had a terrible night of sleep for no reason in particular.  I was flopping around, moving among different dreams about Paul (my first husband) and my mother and father.  Don't remember any of the details.  I just realized I haven't had the hungry animals dream since I forced myself to continue the dream and get all of the animals fed.  That was what,  a month or more ago?  Yep, November 23rd.  Oh, and I did shave the cat (for real, not in a dream).  He took it like a man and now is sporting a kind of kitty Mohawk, walking around like, "OK, you got a problem with that?"

Ha! I think I might need one of these:

Well, THAT didn't go particularly well:

K Kind
A Awkward
T Technological
R Revolutionary
I Intelligent
N Naive
A Appealing
R Refreshing
A Appreciative
S Strange
B Busy
O Orderly
L Lucky
D Delicious

Name :

Name Acronym Generator

OK, the only one I really have a puzzled look about is "Naive."  But then, I didn't think I was intimidating either until a few people hipped me to that (dude).  Maybe I am intimidating in my naiveté.

Orderly?  Not where it counts, anyway.

Damned near devastated that the Showtime exclusive series "Dead Like Me" has not been renewed.  Bastards.  I like so few shows and now they have to screw with them.  "The Dead Zone" should be showing up again in the summer, I'm told.  "The Sopranos" will start up again... some day.  Last season, it took a year and a half to get a new episode.  "Scrubs" is in reruns, but a rerun of Scrubs is better than a first run of almost everything else.  DLM is looking for another venue, but if it's not premium cable (HBO, Cinemax, etc), it's going to be seriously compromised because the show is so completely dialog driven.  Losing the swearing and adult situations will deeply scar the basic integrity of the show.  I heard they are courting Sci-Fi Channel, which I feel would be a mistake for the above reasons.  Oh well, PG-13 Dead Like Me is better than no Dead Like Me.

One of the gifts I grabbed for the kids is a mini trampoline.  Of course, that means *I* have a mini-trampoline/rebounder, which I plan to put to good use. It's a really GOOD one too.  The only problem is that (eek) it doesn't show a maximum poundage, so I am worried that having my tonnage jumping up and down on it, arms flailing and ass in the wind, might pop the little canvas straps.  I hope they are chanting, "light as a feather, stiff as a board" the whole time I'm a'hoppin'.  Probably more like, "Light as a... aaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhh.... pop pop pop!"

Wow!  Aleve causes heart attacks!  Naproxin is being seriously studied after some old folks who were taking it in an Alzheimer's study developed a 50% increase in cardio-vascular episodes.  That's quite a chunk!  If you or someone you love...

An EOS reader sent me this wonderful thing:

Many years ago, in Scotland, a new game was invented.  It was ruled "Gentlemen Only... Ladies Forbidden"... and thus the word GOLF entered into the English language.


The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time TV were Fred and Wilma Flintstone.


Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the US Treasury.


Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.


Coca-Cola was originally green.


It is impossible to lick your elbow.


The State with the highest percentage of people who walk to work:  Alaska


The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28% (now get this...)

The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%


The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven:  $6,400


The average number of people airborne over the US any given hour: 61,000


Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.


The first novel ever written on a typewriter: Tom Sawyer.


The San Francisco Cable cars are the only mobile National Monuments.


Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from history:

Spades - King David
Hearts - Charlemagne
Clubs -Alexander, the Great
Diamonds - Julius Caesar


111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321


If a statue in the park of a person on a horse has both front legs in the air, the person died in battle.

If the horse has one front leg in the air the person died as a result of wounds received in battle.

If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes.


Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, John Hancock and Charles Thomson.  Most of the rest signed on August 2, but the last signature wasn't added until 5 years later.


Q. Half of all Americans live within 50 miles of what?

A. Their birthplace


Q. Most boat owners name their boats.  What is the most popular boat name requested?

A. Obsession


Q. If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go
until you would find the letter "A"?

A. One thousand


Q. What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers, and laser printers all have in common?

A. All invented by women.


Q. What is the only food that doesn't spoil?

A. Honey


Q. Which day are there more collect calls than any other day of the year?

A. Father's Day


In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes.  When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on.  Hence the phrase......... "goodnight, sleep tight."


It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink.  Mead is a honey beer and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month ... which we know today as the honeymoon.

In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts... So in old England, when customers got unruly,
the bartender would yell at them "Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down."  It's where we get the phrase "mind your P's and Q's"


Many years ago in England, pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the rim, or handle, of their ceramic cups. When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service.  "Wet your whistle" is the phrase inspired by this practice.


75% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow


Oh come on, you guys DIDN'T, did you?

Time to savor the laundry a little more.  :) 

Much Love,