I attended my second writing class this week and I was on fire (I think it was the coffee). For some reason the words just poured out of me. We started off again with a word chosen randomly out of the dictionary and the word was “oddly”. My mind went immediately to the odd dream I had the other night and so here is my story…
Dreams are odd/strange things. Some mornings you wake up and remember them, then forget them right afterwards and try as you might they are gone. Some days you can’t remember dreaming at all but your smartwatch indicates you were in REM sleep for hours. Other dreams you just can’t get out of your head and you wish there was someone who could interpret them for you. My dream was about a pet fly with iridescent wings.
Sheila had entrusted me to look after her pet fly while she was on holidays. I was at Pine Point Beach. It was a hot day and I thought the fly might like a dip in the river. I went into the river and carefully placed the fly in. I soon realize that the fly wasn’t keen on the water so I gently scooped it out and walked back to the beach. As I get to the sand, I trip on a stone and the fly accidentally falls out of my hand. I get down on my hands and knees and look for the fly. I sift through the sand with my hands but no luck. Somehow I have a comb and I comb through some green seaweed that happens to be there. The fly can’t be found. I’m frantic. I have lost the fly the day before Sheila is expected back from her holiday. I return home, crying.
Sheila is suddenly at my home. She has missed her pet and is anxious to retrieve it. I explain that the fly has been lost. Sheila is distraught. I go upstairs to my studio and lo and behold, there is the fly on my desk. It flies onto the top of my head and buries itself into my hair. I come downstairs to let Sheila know the good news. The fly has been found!!! But apparently the fly has enjoyed the time it has spent with me and doesn’t want to go home with Sheila. It is somewhere deep in my hair and I try and try to coax it out. I pull some small stones and sticks out of my hair but can’t seem to find the fly. John digs around in my hair and finally finds the fly. Sheila is sad that fly has rejected her but so happy to have fly back.
Now there are a number of odd things about this dream. The first is Sheila. I haven’t spoken to Sheila in 10 years. We were friends. Sheila, Sharon (another friend) and I would get together every month. We had done this since our sons were in daycare together. We would sew together or go out to dinner or go shopping or just meet up at someone’s house and drink wine. I once took a holiday to Stowe Vermont and stayed at the Von Trapp Lodge with Sheila. I remember clearly the last time I spoke with Sheila. We had gone to Milestones restaurant near the IKEA store. The upcoming US election was about to take place. We got talking politics. Let’s just say Sheila and I had quite different political points of view regarding one of the presidential candidates (who later went on to win). That was the last time I spoke with her. Since it has been over 10 years why did Sheila suddenly show up in my dream entrusting me with her pet fly? ODD.
The second odd thing? In my dream I went into the water with fly. Anyone who knows me knows I probably wouldn’t go into the water at Pine Point Beach . I’m not a fan of water that I can’t see my toes. In my dream I am comfortable taking this fly into the water. ODD.
The third very odd thing is that this pet fly doesn’t have a name. Don’t all precious pets have a name. Was the fly named Fly? ODD.
I typed in “housefly with iridescent wings” and out pops the exact fly of my dream.
The same night that I had my fly dream I also had a dream of stepping into human waste/excrement/poo that was thick and gooey and oozed through the holes in the top of my pink Crocs. Did you know that you can have a sense of smell in dreams. I didn’t until that dream. The human waste/excrement/poo was incredibly foul smelling, so foul that in my dream I vomited (and I could smell that too). ODD.
In our second writing exercise Pam provided us with a line from a poem and we were to take it from there. No instructions really, just write. Here is the line I chose and my poem follows.
“ That is not what I meant at all. That is not it, at all.”
Misunderstood. Miscommunication. Mistake.
I shouldn’t have told you how I feel, how your words hurt.
You wouldn’t understand anyway.
Next time, SILENCE. No talking = no misunderstanding = no miscommunication= no mistake.
That’s what I tell myself anyway.
The final exercise in the the writing class was to write about cleaning out a closet to donate to The Whistle (our local thrift store). We were to write about the clothes or other things in a closet as we consider donating them and our emotional attachment to them. I filled another page with words…but that is a story for another day.
Some stories were read aloud. I particularly loved Doug’s story about his t-shirts and the memories they bring back.
Thank you Pam for a thought provoking writing workshop today. And Margaret, no AI was used in the writing of this blog (but was used to describe the fly). buzzzzz, buzzzzzzzzzzz 😜
