I've written. O Blog, before, about how having dreams affected me, but I was surprised to have come across a purportedly scholarly article about "How to Remember Your Dream" and cited the findings of studies which showed exactly how long it takes for a dream to slip away into oblivion before it is lost forever. I have found that to be true, except for the times dream "scenes" pop into my consciousness. I've found writing them down helps to calm them down.
I can recall last night's dream only by the single word---red. That stirs up a dream where I am in the parking lot of a store, very like that in Schaghticoke, when a woman drives her car, loses control of it, narrowly misses hitting my car, but seemingly does not consider herself at fault. I wait patiently in my car for her to leave but as she heads toward the exit, she strikes a red car. This time attention must be paid. I want to avoid being a witness, so I drive away, to the home of one of my children. No one is home but I go into the house and when they arrive home, I explain why I am there, a rather awkward and feeble explanation, as I recall.
But wait, there's more. I went back to sleep, to what seemed like a non-dream.
When I cooked the St. Patrick's Day dinner, I bought new carrots. Those in the vegetable drawer of my refrigerator had been there a while, and were starting to look their age, with those little white rootlets starting to form. There were 4 such shriveled carrots, so I opened the kitchen window and started to throw them out. Maybe a hungry little rabbit might want to nibble on them. One, two, three--out they went. But I held one back.
For some reason, I remembered an old friend from my days as a telephone representative in Troy. Ann lived in a downstairs apartment in Lansingburgh, then a peaceful and reputable neighborhood. I used to drive her home when her boyfriend had her car, and Ann and I attended events here and there and I always drove. Her home was very well kept; she had a cat and a dog and many well tended houseplants. I particularly recall a carrot plant that trailed around the windows of her living room, a remarkable sight to see such a green and flowing carrot plant.
So I decided to keep carrot number 4, even though it looked dry and dormant. There was a plastic bottle in my sink, so I filled it with water and stuck the slender carrot inside it. A few days later the carrot started to grow its foliage on top, and in a few more days, it looked rather nice, so I kept it on the windowsill and refilled the water as needed.
I try to restrict my mundane, yes, boring, activities to my own personage, but one day when my daughter was here, I decided to show her my thriving little carrot. I went to the kitchen to get it, but to my dismay the once green growth was now brown, dead and dessicated. So I said nothing, and after my daughter left, I eventually went to bed.
The next morning, I went to the kitchen to throw #4 Carrot out the window to join its tossed out kin, but there was the plant, green and thriving, as it still is.
So maybe a dream? Or maybe a Vegetable Resurrection?
