I wake with the echo of hoof beats from the mares running through my dreams. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but still I have night terrors. I wake in a puddle of cold sweat. Sometimes it takes half an hour to stop trembling. Other times I wake with tears which have drained into my ears. Neither situation is ideal, but such is the night life of a dreamer.
I used to keep a dream journal to capture the memory the moment I came to consciousness. If I don’t write it immediately, it skitters off the edge of my memory. I don’t know why I stopped. I could have given Stephen King or Dean Koontz a run for the money if I ever actually wrote about where my night time imagination carried me. I was not always fond of bringing the thoughts into my waking hours. A true quandary, or a quagmire or some other puzzling place to be. I was afraid if I examined these horrors in the light of day, I might learn far more about my subconscious than I was ready to know. That seems as likely an excuse as any. Perhaps I was simply undisciplined & lazy.
Ramblings of a night passed. It’s a good thing when I wake & am eager to start a fresh day. At my age, I’m grateful to wake.
Now on to Sunday morning musing.
I wonder about the origin of words & phrases. I’ve lived in different geographical locations & there seem to be regional colloquialisms. The Southern ones are often more comical to me. “Rode hard & put away wet” could certainly mean something different to someone who was unfamiliar with the needs of grooming a horse at the end of a ride.
‘Yep, that little filly was rode hard & put away wet,’ could be the starting lyric of a country song or changed mid-stream into a steamy hot novel.
Ponderables, musings, thoughts to keep myself entertained on a Sunday morning.
My bedroom laptop bit the dust day before yesterday. How frustrating! We bought from a local company who assured us the warranty was good. Turns out, anytime the machine was taken in for repair, there was a mandatory $50.00 charge. Some warranty. It’s been repaired four times already…yes, that’s $200.00 tacked onto the original $1,000 for the machine. My Hubby is ready to take it to the desert & put a bullet in it. Sadly, there are things there that were not backed up. Fortunately I had taken a thumb drive & saved most of my ‘freebie’ downloads. But as for the photographs that were only in that laptop, I shot myself in the foot. **sigh** I’d have thought that by now I would have learned. That’s the sad thing about digital downloads, if they are removed from the camera & stored only in a laptop, they are GONE!
The irony is I have another broken laptop in the bottom drawer of my dresser that stays on only long enough to load Windows & turns off before I can retrieve my stories. Perhaps some day I will learn. With my track record, it’s not looking good.
Today my mission, should I choose to accept, is to get at least one large black garbage bag filled with items to take to Goodwill. I’ll start in the room we call ‘the lair’. It’s our television room which can’t be used during the summer months. Since it’s mid-October & in the high 80’s we should be able to use it soon. I’m getting it cleared out today so we can sit on the couch.