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Dreams, Food, Writing

Dreamed I was a nurse again in a field operation. On the upper floor of an abandoned house near the front line, I found an old, old man and a baby. Neither was wounded, but both were showing signs of hideous neglect—soaked in urine, starving etc. I scuttled back and forth between them, trying to bathe them, trying to feed them. Every time I focused on one of them, I’d think, But you’re neglecting the other one, leaving the other one in an unsafe situation! So it was very nerve-wracking until I woke up!

L and I took Caro out to lunch at Bocuse. Little Megan came, too. Food was excellent as always, though no real standout dishes. I had poached turbot, which was good but not great:

For dessert, we had lavender ice cream, which Benito made tableside. Again: good but not great.

We took Caro out so that she’d have the opportunity to see her husband in action before they go back to Utah.

Caro did not even thank us, but that is just Caro. She doesn’t have good manners. I suspect that if you’re not LDS, for Caro, you don’t really exist. Mormons are a bit like Hasidim in that respect. I don’t hold that against her particularly. One does things because one wants to do things, not as a means of extorting slavering protestations of gratitude from others.


Send me your story about Eleanor Roosevelt’s childhood!, Little Megan texted me later that afternoon.

Third time she’d asked, so I finally sent it. Little Megan is doing archival work at the FDR Library this summer, some of which involves ER. I’m sure she doesn't know what she was asking for. She’d probably envisioned an Anne of Green Gables-ish romp. Buck-toothed Ellie! Highjinx in the Hudson Valley!

Instead she’s getting a Turn of the Screw homage written in high-Victorian, Downton Abbey patois! With a guest appearance by an incestuous ghost!

I am not going to ask her what she thinks of it.


Meanwhile, I’m down to the last couple of scenes in Neversink. Two possible endings suggest themselves:

(1) Alison follows the stag out into the forest with the implication that she’s gonna die in the forest.

(2) Alison follows the stag out into the forest with the implication that she’s gonna metamorphose into a deer herself.

Of course, Ovid's ghost is prancing up and down next to me, screeching, Door Number 2, girlfriend! Door Number 2!!

Also, the name "Alison" is very wrong for this character. Daphne, maybe? Iris?

This entry was originally posted at http://mallorys-camera.dreamwidth.org. You may leave comments on either Dreamwidth or LiveJournal if you like.


( 9 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 18th, 2018 04:28 pm (UTC)
I love honest restaurant reviews. Most of mine would be: it was food.
Jul. 18th, 2018 04:41 pm (UTC)
Unless it was pesto, right? :-) Or blackberry jam.
Jul. 18th, 2018 04:50 pm (UTC)
There wouldn’t even be words.
Jul. 18th, 2018 09:12 pm (UTC)
That is a cool dream!! What do you think it means for your life?
Jul. 18th, 2018 09:36 pm (UTC)
Umm—that I'm really, really glad I'm not a nurse anymore? :-)

I don't know. There must be two things vying for my attention right now—one a matter of long standing, one extremely new—and I'm feeling overwhelmed trying to keep up with the demands of both.

But honestly? I don't have a conscious clue what those two things are.
Jul. 19th, 2018 03:02 am (UTC)
I guess I'd wonder if there's some aspect of your growth that has you in an untenable bind of some kind.
Jul. 19th, 2018 08:15 pm (UTC)
**Caro did not even thank us, but that is just Caro. She doesn’t have good manners. I suspect that if you’re not LDS, for Caro, you don’t really exist.**

This reminds me of Charles' son, although he's not Mormon (hmm, though I do seem to recall babymama is Mormon, but I don't think they're observant). I feel like his kid has his 2-3 pet topics he obsesses about and anything that doesn't fall under that umbrella doesn't exist, it's like dogs with certain colors they can't see or something.
Jul. 22nd, 2018 02:35 am (UTC)
Yeah, that's true. The behavior is also very common in 20-somethings. (I was about to write "badly brought up 20-somethings", but then I realized my youngest kid hardly ever thanks anyone for anyone. He seems to feel entitled. And I like to think he was well brought up. :-) )
Jul. 20th, 2018 04:10 am (UTC)
Alison make me think of the Elvis Costello song.
( 9 comments — Leave a comment )