Of Spilled Milk And Ghosts

My daughter has crazy dreams while she sleeps (she gets it from her father).  Almost every morning she comes downstairs with a new, weird dream to describe in great detail.

Last night she dreamed she was in her room getting ready for bed.  A middle-aged (perhaps bordering around 50) lady was in there with her, carrying a glass of milk.  The lady made it very clear that the glass of milk was hers, and Leah had better not touch it.  The lady went around the room, touching things, talking loudly, and making snide comments.  Then she set the glass of milk on the dresser, gave Leah a defiant look, and knocked it over.  Milk was dripping down to the floor, making a mess.

Leah woke up frantically thinking she better clean the milk up, forgetting that she doesn't own a dresser (a post for another day) to have milk dripping off of  in the first place.  She woke up more and realized she could hear the dripping sound.  It wasn't milk, but it was her open window, with rain blowing in and making a big mess.

When my daughter told her dad and me this story, my husband was quick to suggest the lady in Leah's dream was our resident ghost, and she was upset that my daughter could so carelessly let the rain pour into the house...

At which point I kicked him squarely in the butt.  I am easily freaked out, and I have just barely recovered from a recent experience of being alone in the house and finding a towel and the shaving cap lid in the bathroom sink, knowing full well I hadn't placed them there.  The look on his face was clearly, "Why'd you do that?"

Well, because, the kids really believe our house is haunted.  And I kind of agree.  And I can't agree because I will have to move out and find a new house!

-Postscript from Leah-

We kids don't just think the house is haunted, we know. It's the generally accepted theory as to why my room is a bit on the creepy side, why we hear random footsteps in the house, why, when you're alone,you don't feel alone.

We, or at least I, am not afraid of the ghost. She has given us nothing to fear.

Although, when I'm trying to sleep on a school night, I do not appreciate her invading my dreams!

It's 50 Shades of Unsettling!

My Country, 'Tis Of Thee

This is the first patriotic song I learned.  I was 6 years old, in the 1st grade, and singing this song made my little red, white and blue heart swell with an emotion I couldn't put a name on.  It is still my favorite and I wasn't above singing it as a nursery song to my babies.  All morning I've been thinking of the words.

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims pride,
From ev'ry mountainside
Let freedom ring!

At six years old, I understood that fathers did die, that bad things did happen, that life wasn't all Saturday morning cartoons, but this song made me feel pride and hope.  It still does.

Today marks eleven years since 9/11.  That morning and all the events that dominoed to our life, our little four person family life, are still crystal clear, down to the feel of the carpet as I sat on the floor watching TV, stunned and.....just stunned.  I've written remembering posts before, here, here, and here.

This morning, the fifth verse of my favorite song seems very appropriate.  Granted, it was written for Washington's Centennial (the president not the state) but I like the words so much, I will carry them in my heart today.

Our joyful hearts today,
Their grateful tribute pay,
Happy and free,
After our toil and fears,
After our blood and tears,
Strong with our hundred years,
O God, to Thee.

Bad, terrible, horrific things happen, but I thank God for the spirit of life He gives, that keeps us going, on and beyond.  I have moved on and beyond, but I will not forget.  I thank God for that too.

The Thing That I Saw This Morning That Was Scary

I guess I am predisposed to dislike this time of year because I am very aware of the darkening of days.  As I walk my dogs at 6 a.m. the dawn is further and further away.

I do not like the dark.  While I relish the early morning day-lit walks, I dread early morning dark walks.

I hear spookier sounds in the dark and I see freakier shapes.

I'm always on alert for other dogs running loose.  We once had a very bad big dog experience, and this morning in the dusky start of sun rise....

I saw a big dog.

Like the rabid dog from "To Kill A Mockingbird," this dog stood splay legged, head down, a block and half and across the street from us.  It was big and dark and seemed to be staring into my soul.

I gripped the leashes tighter while my three girls remained oblivious.

We got closer and closer and the dog remained where it was, menacing and odd.....

And then we were passing it and the dog was miraculously transformed into a regular garden variety lawn chair.

My imagination runs wild in the dark....

Or maybe, I need new glasses!

This Is My Mug

I have a mug.  I was not aware I had a personal mug, until someone has used it several mornings in a row and it hasn't been waiting for me and my morning cup of joe.....

Hands off buster.

This mug may have been a gift from you, but it is mine.  It holds an immense amount of coffee, fits my hand just right, and is the one I reach for every morning.

Out of the twenty odd mugs we own, please pick out a favorite of your very own.

I promise I won't use it.

I have my own.

When I Was Younger

When I was younger, the last "first day" of school was so exciting.  It was another step towards freedom and leaving childhood behind.  It was a leap towards adulthood, it was the start of making my own decisions.

When I was younger, I never thought if my Mom was sad or watched me leave and thought of me at age 5, on my first "first day" or if she wondered where time had gone to suddenly have a 17 year old in place of her baby.

When I was younger, I didn't know what being a Mom was like or that the last "first day" is kind of hard, and watching my son leave on his last "first day", for a brief moment, I felt his warm little five year old hand in mine, felt the nerves of the first day of Kindergarten, felt perplexed that 12 years had gone by so fast.

I sure hope my smile and kiss goodbye was calm and confident as my Mom's had been all those years ago.  I hope my son left having no idea that I was reaching for the box of tissue as soon as he was gone.  I hope he hit the halls of school, feeling the same joy as I did, when I was younger!



This post inspired by prompt #2 at Mama's Losin' It!

Contradictions

Mornings are very chilly
Where are my mittens?
Evenings are hot and stuffy
Turn the fans on high!
This is why I don't like September
Contradictions in a single day's weather.

School Supplies

It's not just about pens and pencils and paper and binders.  It's about having the really important stuff on hand, like coffee and creamer.....

My kids aren't big breakfast eaters, so the first day of school won't see me making a special breakfast of eggs and bacon and pancakes, but I can make sure everyone (even me) has a treat on the first day.  Now we can all start school off on the right, and hopefully less grouchy, foot!