Smokingboot

I've been stung by bees a few times in childhood.I lived in a little market town with farms and flowers around so unfortunate flying beastie/young human interfaces were bound to happen, often enough not to count them, not often enough to worry about them. And I recall them being a few hours pain and that being that. Admittedly it was a long time ago. When we discovered one crawling around on the ground yesterday, I offered her my hand and she took it. The idea then would have been to adroitly feed her some sugar water, but this didn't happen, and R, trying to manouvre a little leaf rug in front of her, alarmed her to the extent she stung my arm. Disaster didn't occur - she didn't leave her stinger in - and eventually we took her to the rose bush, where she kind of fell off and I didn't see where she landed, but there was no dead bee in the grass which promised well. We left some sugar water under the rose bush for her.

Meanwhile that sting was throbbing proper. I took some ibuprofen and anti-hystamine and watched with curiosity. It did hurt and the pain spread, but the ibuprofen took the edge off that. What was interesting and new was the dizziness and nausea, and this weird sense at the base of the throat, like a small ball wedged in there, and in the centre of the chest. It was a kind of pressure.I didn't think this was any form of severe anaphylactic response, but it was certainly a response of some kind and I never had it before. Dr Internet screamed at me to phone 999 or at least 111, but it just felt like one of those embarrassing things that feels bad then bggers off on the appearance of a medic. I did nothing for the rest of the day, and the response dissipated slowly. But I was surprised to say the least. I like beezez and our dreams for retirement may include a hive or two, depending on where we end up.

Anyway, perhaps because of this tiny toxin in my system, I had vivid dreams. I was with westernind, and she was very happy. So was I but I couldn't recall why. We were wandering in a park hand in hand, not speaking, just enjoying our respective forms of happiness because I got the impression we were deep in thought about very different things, but equally joyful. Then I was alone, leaving a single though complex room to go out into a town, which edged in one direction close by into white fields, and in another by mountains. I wanted the mountains so naturally I ended up at the white fields. These were full of identical machines, pipes and globes working, moving together either painted white or covered in snow. The mountains were full of snow, and I could see ice capped peaks everywhere. I wanted R to be with me and thought he would enjoy the bizarre sight of these machines. Then I found myself at the foot of a mountain but it seemed to be made of huge regular slabs. People climbed them to set up their cameras and take pics of the mountain range beyond, but I had no mountain climbing gear. I couldn't even get from my bottom step to the next one.

I discovered a prior mistake of mine yesterday, and while it's better caught now than later, I was annoyed enough to stay down all day. Met friends in the evening, including one whose spark always engages me, but even surrounded by great historians and fab mates, I was lacklustre. I have been up since 7, it is 8.45 as I write this, and I want to go back to sleep. Something must be wrong. If this is about the letrozole, my body is not acclimatising, in fact this is getting worse. But I see nothing to be done, except give up letrozole, or maybe have my thyroid tested. I presume they've done this latter a few times, but honestly I have had so many tests I don't recall what they were all for. Maybe they're just collecting my blood, cc by cc, for artistic purposes.

Speaking of which, my dreams were weird. DT and I were being pursued by two white faced dolly vampire creatures. We lured them through a front door into a small vestibule which crucially served as a lift, and had doors on two sides. We let them in as we stepped out, and locked both doors. There they were, trapped. I made my way upstairs, but DT stayed behind and, out of what I presumed was misplaced mercy, unlocked one of the doors. Meanwhile in an upper room, I found many people playing at being vampires and monsters in a some kind of gothic casino/circus set up. They weren't all vampires, but of course some might be. And away I drifted, away...

This reminds me of a dream I had earlier, which made me happy so I should keep it. There was my beautiful Surya, sitting in her prim position but she was a much bigger cat and her fur was thicker. She was very pleased to see me, and made nice faces at me. Then R was beside me and her face lit up, and she made welcoming sounds. I spotted an old black cat still sleeping. Guess Ralik is snoozing even yet in the dream lands. Let's face it, nearly 100 years of life is enough for any cat. He deserves some astral relaxation.

To add a moment of drama to the morning, the door to R's office room jammed thoroughly. Fortunately a neighbour helped out and he's no longer trapped in there, but internally the mechanism is crumbling. I know how it feels.

Wake up wake up wake up!

It goes away!

Which just goes to show, you don't need much to get rid of a haunt. Just stare right at it and say 'What are you doing here?'

Of course, don't try that on its home turf. But on yours, absolutely tell that figment who's boss.

This morning I felt much lighter, clear and happy. Last night I dreamed of a cat having a litter of kittens in a closet space. I tried to pick them out to make sure they weren't cramped, only to find out there were many more groups of kittens in there, loads and loads of them! Quite a few pretty grey ones at that.

Meanwhile I am resolutely ignoring the world and everything I can't influence let alone fix. If I do that, I'm just fine. As for the stuff that belongs in the trash...

https://open.substack.com/pub/smokingboot/p/breakfast-with-a-demon?r=1r9jj7&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

A very beautiful full moon last night, sailing fast beyond wind-driven clouds, who also sent plenty of bins careering down the road. I am glad Spring is here. I feel it, despite everything.

Dreamed of the pre-ex-ex. In the dream, we met at a party and ended up kissing passionately. It was an odd one, cos I feel no flame towards him, but I do remember a letter he sent me, promising that in some world, in some other life, he would be kissing me and making love to me forever. The idea was that we couldn't be together in this life but we would be in another to come. It's hard to think of two more half-baked people, honestly. I lost the letter years ago - I'm a romantic but don't trust me with the paperwork - and never thought of it again til this morning, when I woke out of the dream thinking has he carked it? His favourite clip from his favourite film was this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98qgvKUCcrk I was meant to be Cher. I know I should be flattered but... anyway apart from being insane, he always had an underlying ruthlessness and attachment to money he blamed on being an orphan. Whatever the reason, folk with that lean and hungry look tend to last, so I'm sure he'll be around longer than I will. But it was an odd moment. I am dreaming a whole bunch of bits and pieces I associate with death.

Maybe my subconscious is being influenced by the news. Confused by President Trump's move, wasn't he the Keep America Out of Foreign Wars Candidate? Not that anyone is going to mourn the end of the mad mullahs.But he does have this habit of lighting the blue touchpaper and standing back. I was so worried I did an horary chart for the whole thing, and maybe at some point I will put it up. But for now I must settle into more work.

Yesterday was a pleasant if slightly serious day. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine experienced a slight but constant pain in her back between her shoulders. It stopped when she paused doing stuff, proof, were any needed, that activity is a dubious friend. She went to the doctor, tests were done, all was well, ECG fine, but the medic was still troubled, something didn't 'feel right', and ordered an angiogram.

That was when the need for a triple bypass was discovered. Some kind of hereditary problem. Stents were a possibility but they would need replacing, so instead they decided to use arterial material from within her leg to create the bypass. They didn't need it all, so she said they could use the rest in research. Question I dared not ask: if they use leg arteries, what happens when the legs need blood? Of course there's more than one blood conduit in a lower limb, but I am ignorant on the subject. She was in a bind, I think, a naturally very chatty person at once wanting and fearing to talk about it. Far more cheerful for her were her tales of the other patients, the doctors and nurses and doings on the ward. She says she gets better each day, and there's hope she can join us for the games night some chums hope to host this weekend, but if I am any judge of expression, her fatigue quickly overpowers her eagerness. My sense is that Games Night will be too much.

We left having brought gifts of puzzles, a crochet flower, and The Number One Ladies Detective Agency. We wanted to bring these to the hospital, but R caught something covid-like and it seemed too risky.

And last night? A dream of Daft Bint sitting down glowering to inform me and some other people that she was going to Crete to find Chokmah and copyright it. I couldn't help smiling and she turned to me with some asperity, demanding to know what I found so funny. I kept my temper, spoke a little about those who had tried, in the past, tried to copyright concepts, but whether or not she heard anything is another matter. She was in a foul temper about something, and I couldn't help wondering what Cretan Zeus would do with such a cheerful visitor. Before or after this I was in a market I know well in my dreamworld, it changes but you can buy a lot of things there, including perfectly useless junk. However, it attaches to a kind of museum street, and from there is a mausoleum I keep almost visiting. It has something to do with Rome, there is a path under the earth I should get to but never quite do, and sure enough, I didn't this time either.

Insomnia has been a real difficulty recently, so I decided to try some Valerian tea from the local herbalists. Tried a cup when I got it yesterday, conked out within 30 minutes. Interesting! Lots of images and faces, surface dreams. Last night I tried again, and it took a while, possibly because of the earlier siesta, though I entered a properly relaxed state very quickly. Sleep, when it came, was very deep and lasted til 9 this morning.

Dreams of a younger person, very devoted, beside me. Baths, people submerging into their baths under the water, cluttered room, a very beautiful combination of black and green around me. This tea also combined Chamomile. The best sleep I had was in Crete, after cups of Chamomile flowerhead tea, but this stuff was sold loose at the old market in Chania. Dude had gone into the hills, gathered it and dried it, there you go. It worked extremely well. Russ buys it here for me and it does work, though nowhere near as effectively.

This tea combines Chamomile with Valerian, and it's good but it feels more... active. Like Chamomile brings you calm sleep, Valerian brings you deep sleep. Also, winter sleep and summer sleep are never the same. Lack of them is, though; you get scratchy and weird and make mistakes. I'll continue to use it but will probably wait until our guests go home on Sunday in case it makes me sleepy throughout the day. They'll be here this evening, one may well be very tired, the other requires delicate handling. Might see if they want to try the tea.

Oh, and the visit to the doctor? Pfff.

Right now the dead are busy in my dreams. Last few days it was Aunty, this time it's Dad. I can't help being superstitious about such dreams, they make me worry for Mum, but then that's what they are, anxiety wrapped up in fancy. I've spent the last two months worrying about her. Dad had done a lot of grocery shopping, bags of which were all over the floor waiting to be put away into cupboards etc. I was bewildered by all this activity, I don't remember my father ever shopping in his entire life. He gave me some teeny gold beads to eat, like breadcrumbs rolled in gold. I tried them and they were sweet, but nothing special. There was some black and white footage of me but much prettier and young, it was very 1940s/50s. When I turned my back, you could see something like a big mole/scab/wound to the left on my lower back. It was the kind of distracting thing one would edit out of a photo today.

Meanwhile, the tree is nearly finished. One of the old masks needs fixing but some are in place. R loves them and they'll entertain our guests. I like them too, even though the Prince at the top makes the whole thing look somewhat sinister. Mum thinks we should bung a star there, and she has a point. He does have this habit of significant looming.

Shepherd take warning, it's going to be cold (going to be? I already have my endless winter headache,a tightening across my forehead that makes me feel like I am squinting at everything) and I've had a ginger shot to boost my, ugh, I don't know, powers of enthusiasm or something. But in fairness, these late sunrises are worth it, bands of orange and pink all across the sky. I cannot love Winter the way I love Summer, but I do love it. From afar.

Strange dream, Mum and I sitting in a cafe somewhere, suddenly up pops my dear dead aunt, she comes to the table and kisses each of us, says something I can't remember, then goes into a back room. I don't follow her there, partly because Mum and I are astonished saying 'Did you see? Was that her? What the -?' and it never occurs to me to follow because she's a ghost until I remember that I'm dreaming and there's no reason why a ghost can't appear in a dream.

Strange dream full of sharp flashes. I was in a lesbian relationship with someone, I could feel them holding me, the real sensation of intimacy, but I don't remember their name/face/anything about them. Glimpses of me looking at a map, finding myself on the South East outskirts of London, close to Plumstead or Woolwich but there was another borough with a name I could not recall, and it was either South or South West. I don't even know why I was looking for it. Me again in a room with a high bunk bed, bit small for me but I could use it. Nuclear Man's wife in a house, she was expecting another child, a son. But the house had no curtains, no material at all that I could see, and this was strange because she was always excellent with fabric, upholstery,etc. She was very happy.

I woke with a gravestone suddenly in my mind. Maybe my mind is trying to tell me this is a time of endings and beginnings. All good I guess, but uneasy.

Out we went to North Berwick to have that conversation we always have whenever we go to North Berwick.

'Should we have moved here?'

We'd have paid easily 20% more on a smaller newbuild for a North Berwick postcode on account of its pretty & posh combo, plus the connections in and out of Edinburgh and Glasgow are rubbish. Nights out at the Fringe would have been difficult if not impossible. On the other hand those newbuilds gained value very fast because of said postcode. On the third hand, you could barely make out the sea from them, and what I wanted would be on the coast or in the old town. On the fourth hand, those sea-facing houses leak heat badly in Winter. A woman who lived there described it to us as chucking five pound notes out through her front door. So having used up four hands at least, we always return to the same decision; better to visit as and when. Yesterday was definitely the when.

Back to the roar of the sea and its white horses riding, little boats in the harbour and the sun so warm and bright as the afternoon came in under that perfect blue sky. We wandered the streets- OK, street, there's basically only one for shopping - bought a little here and there. Then down to the water, and we just walked, not even far.

The sun grew even brighter on the way home past hills and fields. It was a very beautiful day.

By night my dreams were a little strange. I was at a raucous party full of friends, people I half remembered, and others who were perfect strangers. I was talking with someone I barely knew when I noticed that the person next to them, who almost but not quite had their back to me, was Nuclear Man! He was hovering there like a shark in the water. I used the time honoured method of dashing to the loo to wait for friends and share this discovery so we could gossip at the horror of it. Someone came in and we started talking and away floated that dream... then suddenly I saw my brother, much younger, his image in sharp relief. I sent him what I can best describe as a psychic hug, green light and my arms around him.