02.25.06
Water and Wine
Never forget he is an emotionally violent alcoholic who takes any opportunity to smash out, lash out at the only people left who still love him. And don’t let his loneliness, his inspiration, his wild talk and his exuberance trick you into riding his dreams, not for even the slightest second. All this in case you show a chink in your armour – something you shouldn’t have to wear with someone you love and remember when he was tiny and helpless and mewling for cuddles.
Like so many of us, he was meant for another time and life. I remember watching a British reality show about nobles in Jane Austen’s era. The women had to sit with their chaperones and do needlepoint. But the men, they started breakfast with brandy and continued drinking until late into the night. This is probably why they needed manservants: they were too drunk to dress or undress themselves! Probably also why the Tudor Kings of England had a too toxic to drink, wasn’t it? London must have stank. Victorian London was apparently just dreadful – the amount of raw sewage in average piped water (I’d hesitate to call it “drinking water”), was by modern standards shockingly high. I’d hope they only used it for soups and teas – BOILED water is safer and cleaner. And the beer was more similar to water then, not nearly as potent as it is now.
So we chalk it up to him not knowing what he’s doing, allowing the drink to get the better of him, or his troubled past, or the stress of his business or love life or whatever has come up as the latest excuse in a parade of excuses that have followed him most of his life. And we know full well it’s not alright to turn a blind eye, but we know he’s a good person underneath all those layers of arrogance, anger, and ambition. So we agree amongst ourselves that we wish it was different, and let it go for another few months.
02.22.06
The Ingalls’ Escape
The scene begins with a wide open shot of the little chuck wagon driving across wide, flat prairie. There’s Pa and Ma up front and in back are myself and the two older daughters. Also riding with us is an older brother, on his own horse. And we are in a hurry. He holds a rifle and keeps looking behind. We are running away. We’d never intended to go out and settle the great wide america. But now, with Them after us, we must start a new life. New names, new hopes, new dreams, and a new world. (at this point in the dream I was like “wow, I didn’t know any of this!)
The sound of hoofs on dirt come behind us and Pa shouts “Hyahh” at the horses and we race away. Our brother stays behind and shoots at them. I watch from the back of the chuck wagon as they shoot him and his horse down. We clutch each other and cry for him. We have to get to the next town, where we can disappear.
They chase high-speed, and our wagon wheel comes off, we fall to the ground and must run for our lives. We promise to meet again, and separate into the town.
I hide in the doorway of a chinese restaurant. The 12 year old son of the owners tells me I can hide there if I do his chores for him: knit a new curtain for the doorway and hang it using a fancy two-part locking curtain rod. I sit and knit there for days, hiding. He brings me congee and talks to me, and are secret friends. I wonder what has happened to my family. One day I peer through the window and see the army marching by. HOWEVER it is more like the prussian army, with spiky helmets and pre-nazi paraphernalia. And there is my brother, marching with them. He has become one of them. I am shattered. I must finish the damn curtain and hang it up before he betrays my family’s secret hiding places. So, I desperately bind off the curtain and try to figure out this stupid two-part hanger rod, which has to lock together in a certain way to make it stay stuck. I finally get it locked into place and start to sneak away, aware the army is just on the other side of the small garden wall. Just as I am sneaking, the curtain rod unlocks and breaks in half with the loudest sound ever. The chinese mother starts shouting about an intruder and the army changes course. I RUN.
Cut to Pa carrying Laura on his back along the side of a river, careful not to misstep and slip on the rocks. Ma and Mary are hiding somewhere else – he hopes – and he so carefully walks along the river rocks with laura’s little arms tight around his neck. Suddenly he and Laura are surrounded by soldiers and captured.
I hear of their capture and try to find out where they are being kept. The jail is run by a korean family and is on the other, darker side of town. I go there and find my whole family behind black bars in this small room. They are guarded by a single, sullen, teenage girl. She is excited to talk to someone other than a prisoner, and invites me to sit with her. She is angry with her mother for reading her diary and wants to get back at her. Her mother brings us tea and cakes, which we eat, and the girl tells me how she hates working in the family business and just wants to do her own thing. I tell her I’ll help her, trade her a black cloak for the key to the jail. She can use the cloak to run away, do her own thing, with no one knowing who she is. She frees my family.
The ingalls family runs away, down a brick stairwell, to disappear into the night.
Torture in the Swamplands
i was on an mi5 team in the bayou or mississipi country swamplands. we had a witness we were interrogating- he was terrified- it was really intense and it was my first mission. i was afraid of what would happen. I didn’t want to hurt him. there was a body floating in the swamp, all blue and green and swampgrassed. then another body splashed in there. we had accidentally killed our witness and now we let him go to be eaten by alligators. i did not feel good about this, but i had to stick with my team. there was a neon flashing sign for a greasy spoon restaurant. the back of which was our safehouse. in front people were eating, unaware this guy was being tortured in the back.
Inauguration
Get it started, finally got it started. Waiting a long time to come to some decisions about the basics of life – i have a tendency to ignore these and move on to the big things, the big future or the big dream. My kind of people’s cursed with a lot of ideas and nowhere to put them, a lot of ideas and the dream is enough for us… i’ve got notebooks full of them and nothing to show for it. Now I get it started. Got it started.
Life of leisure. Perhaps you can’t hear the sarcasm in this. I’m at home with a 5 month old, waiting for arsenic hour when the elder child and husband get home with growling tummies and energy to spare. Did a little video capture today, moving snapshot of me as mum. Another idea … a podcast… is percolating through my mind and it might even happen. Considering now i’ve got this blog started, maybe more is to come. Can’t eat ideas, though, and dinner wants cooking.