grandma’s moose chili yields crazy dreams

January 22, 2009 at 12:11 pm 2 comments

Okay. I am NOT big on moose. My brother in law, the great white hunter, bagged a moose in Canada in October. And, therefore moose was on the Christmas menu this year. Thank God there was also turkey. And, btw…I totally lied, Susan, when I said that it was good on Christmas Eve at Mama’s in front of Tom’s dad. Didn’t like it. Not even a little.

Mama knows I don’t like moose. So, she conveniently left out the fact that it was included in her recipe of chili she which she’d called and invited us over to share on Tuesday night. Admittedly, it WAS more bearable in the chili than it was at the Golden’s Christmas season get together. (Gag me with an antler!) But, it’s still yuck. And now…it appears to produce native American hallucinatory like dreams too? All just part of the deal with moose consumption? Who knows? I wonder if Tom shot this moose while it was munching down in a field of paote? (I’ll have to ask him.) Anyway, good grief! I had the most bizarre dreams Tuesday night. And, last night, too. Although, I cannot currently remember what all I dreamed about last night. Maybe it’ll come back to me later. But, you gotta hear Tuesday night’s cinematic thriller on the big screen of my mind:

Southaven High School, (back in the day), up the middle stairs and into Mr. Bush’s office…but there are a couple of cots in it, like it’s doubling as an infirmary or something.

me, Maggie, and Jessye, and a young boy from a tribal village somewhere. Not sure why he’s in school with us…but ain’t that just how dreams go?

Maggie is lying on one of the two cots, and she is not feeling well at all because some kids were choking her. Again. (Apparently this had happened a time or two before?) Maggie’s little face looked like stomach cramps…you know the look. So, across the principal’s office from her, there’s a little tribal boy who is also sickly. And he made some comment to the fact that she needed his magic. At which point, he conjured up some whirling sparkly stuff and sent it over to hover over the top of my child like a little magic rain cloud or something. The sparklies overtook her sickness and she felt much better. Then he beckoned the magic back over to his own cot, and made himself better, too.

Southaven High School cafeteria lobby, from back in the day.

Me, Jessye, and Maggie, and an junior hight aged Susan (my sister, who is only two years younger than I am in REAL LIFE, for my readers who may not know that.) Oh, and then there were lots of “extras” who were high school aged kids, and one teacher standing on duty who had really BAD looking bleach blonde hair which was kinda matted and stickin’ up in one place in the back, too. Ohhh, and there was one recognizable student in the lobby…and it’s a guy who goes to the same school as Jessye who I wish Jessye would like…and wish he would show interest in Jessye. But, Jessye insists they are only friends.

Jessye and Maggie, and seventh grade little bitty tiny Susan and I are rounding the corner from the middle staircase into the cafeteria lobby and there’s a teacher standing duty for lunch there at the door to that concrete area out there between the gym and the cafeteria and the band hall, that we used to sometimes call “the bullpen”. And, so, I notice she has blonde hair, and I went right over to ask her if she did that herself, and whether she thought my hair was too dark to ever get it down to a decent looking blonde on my own. (I don’t know why I asked HER, because HER HAIR LOOKED HORRIBLE!) Well, then, boy that I think would be a good feller for Jessye comes over and hands the teacher I’m talking hair color with a little bitty scrap of paper with a note on it. The note itself was about the size of a fortune cookie. She looks at the boy and says, “What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be over here!” (Typical conversation for a teacher and a student to have while the teacher is standing duty in the cafeteria lobby. Boy points to note, grins and backs up. The note reads, “Tracey Malone, please report to the principal’s office.” I look up, and see the boy across the room. He’s grinning ear to ear and waving at me like my long lost friend. I laugh and wave back, letting the teacher know that it’s okay, that I know this young man, and he was just kidding around with the note. Then I go over and greet him like I was so glad to see him (knowing I’m hoping he and Jessye will hit it off one day…) Next frame, we’re ball room dancing across the lobby in a very silly fashion, being totally goofy. Jessye, Maggie, and child-Susan are all there, and we are all making our way to the car, which of course is in the teacher parking lot out the door by Mr. Clark’s office. Seems like we quit dancing our way towards the car about the time we rounded the corner to where that little half hall of lockers were on the other side of the library, and just started walking normally. Naturally, the kids and Susan didn’t think it unusual that I was horsing around and dancing. That’s really not that far out of the realm of possibility, afterall.

Seems like there was more. But, I let a day go by before writing all this down, so some of it has sort of evaporated from my memory bank as dreams do. But, what a hoot!

Entry filed under: dream sequences.

no cancer cysts disappeared!

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. cjr  |  January 22, 2009 at 12:42 pm

    what fun! I love goofy dreams….keep ’em coming!


  • 2. susan moody  |  January 22, 2009 at 12:31 pm

    my first guess is that it was the onions that gave you that goofy dream, not the moose. onions always make me have crazy dreams, like the recurring one where i’m being chased by the carny in a red jeep…you know the one…


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