The Mice Who Fell From the Sky

The dream always begins the same. I am on a steeply inclined road, laboring to ascend. It gets harder and harder to scale, and as I move upwards, the sun quickly sets and leaves me in near darkness. I feel movement on the ground, although I cannot see what it is. The movement continues up onto my feet and climbs up my legs. I pull something off and reel in horror as I meet its beady eyed stare. They are mice, columns and hordes and undulating masses of gray, naked tailed mice. They begin to rain down on me from the sky, and I startle myself awake.

I've never thought this nightmare was prescient, but I am considering changing my mind.

Last month, I was with my class in the workroom area of our main building, built as part of FDR's New Deal in the 1930's. It is full of character, but also full of little holes in the ceilings and baseboards. We were picking up some supplies to take back to our room when I heard a scratching, scattering sound from above. A dark, furry blob dropped from a small hole in the ceiling and a mouse exploded to life on the counter in front of me. Like a spinning top on jet fuel, it zipped willy nilly up and down and all around. My students told me later the mouse scaled the wall  back up to the little hole it dropped out of and disappeared. I was not there to witness it as I was already running down the hall faster than I ever imagined I could in heels.

Two days ago, I stepped out of my building. The wind blew gustily and I was glad I was wearing warm boots. Something no less than the goodness of God made me pause at the top of the steps. A dark object plummeted millimeters past my nose and plopped to the ground between my boot toes. It didn't move, which made me think for a moment it was a rock or something that had blown off the roof of the building. That idea was dispelled, though, when the little MOUSE picked it self up, did a woozy little circle between my feet and scooted off into a hole under the steps. The last part, though, I could not verify from my new vantage point atop the highest stair railing.

I hope to dream of Manolo Blahnik shoes tonight. Because, well, you know, if the things in  my dreams are going to be dropping on me from the skies...

I Dreamed of Carbs

I'm always interested in dreams. I believe they can be our subconscious talking to us while we are in a relaxed state, I believe they are sometimes God talking to us, and I believe they are nearly always an extension of our lives that our busy minds just cannot get into while awake.

We had a talk about this at a family dinner yesterday. My mom had dreamed a scary being was chasing her. My dad dreamed of long departed, yet greatly loved relatives. One of my sisters dreamed she had won a race. One of my daughters dreamed of solving a difficult math problem. My sweet Mr. Tejano dreamed of me.

Nothing scary or poignant or romantic for me. I dreamed of carbs. Not just the night prior, but for several nights recently. One dream had me cooking French toast with thick slices of bread the size of textbooks. Another dream had me rolling myself up in a warm, homemade flour tortilla on a frigid day. A partial snatch of another dream I remember had me giving out butter laden, flaky biscuits in my classroom.

I restrict myself from many simple (bad) carbs in daily life, and in fact I haven't had  bread, tortillas, or biscuits in three years, since I began losing weight. Maybe that's why they are showing up in my dreams, because all parts of me are screaming for them.

What about you? What have been some of your memorable dreams lately? What significance, if any, do you think they hold for you?