Dreams

I only inherited two things from my laid back, calm, quiet father -- his dreams and his driving. I am a cautious and slow driver, which doesn’t really match my personality. And I dream, interesting not scary things, every single night and remember lots of my dreams.

I’m not sure that my dreams always mean anything, and I try not to think too deeply about them, but I enjoy dreaming.

Last night I dreamed that we were getting married -- Bart and I - to each other, for the first time. The exception was that we were getting married here in Luverne, a place we had not moved to until we already had 7 kids. But the kids did not exist in the dream.

There are lots of details I remember from the dream that I won’t bore you with, but the most vivid part was this:

But first, a little background. At our church, we have individuals giving announcements every Sunday who walk up to the pulpit to tell people what is coming in the weeks ahead. One by one they march up to the podium and give their announcement.

So, the wedding was to begin at 3:00 and yes, you guessed it. They were doing announcements. But not just two or three like most Sundays, but an endless line of people going to the podium to give an announcement while I nervously awaited “here comes the bride” and the chance to walk down the aisle.

At precisely 3:40 I could not take it any more . . . I tromped into the church in my flowing white gown and screamed, “THis is my WEDDING! You don’t do announcements at weddings!!!! It’s was supposed to start 40 minutes ago!!!”

What would a dream interpreter say? That I don’t think I’m getting enough attention? That the activities of the church are taking away from my family life? That I am resentful?

I think I’ll just blame it on too many black beans last night.

Dominyk (9) must have had an unusual dream last night as well. When I woke him up and told him to get into the shower he said, “Not until you addresss me properly.”

I tried everything. Dom. Dominyk. Nyk. Mr. Fletcher, Dominyk K. Fletcher, etc. and it did NOTHING. Finally I gave up and said, ”Exactly how should one address you properly?“ to which he replied, ”Canine 249 .“ So I said, ”OK, Canine 249, hop in the shower.“ And he was out of bed and in the shower within seconds.