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April, 2018
18 23The mood is dark, anxious, depressed, even horrified. There is extreme poverty and threat. I am being told by an adult woman (my mother or simply the mother of two or three young children or child-things?) that they must be kept calm and soothed as long as possible, but then have to be closed up in kind of mud capsules, one each, big enough to enclose each of them. These capsules are a little flexible, so the young ones can move a bit, each inside its own, but not so large as to take up much room for, once they are sealed inside these somehow breathable containers (air able to go in and out of the "muddy" membrane), they'll all need to be lowered into a small cavity in the ground and covered over with dirt, for there are enemies that might come and kill them if they are discovered. They'll need to stay calm, quiet, and hidden for an indefinite period till it may be safe for them to be found again and brought out of their containers. I find it hard to believe these small children or child-things, only a few weeks to about two years old, will be calm and quiet, much less able to breathe and be sustained without nourishment, once completely sealed off using fresh mud patches over the last openings in each of their containers. Even if somehow the containers could allow them enough air and they could stay in them without food or water, I cannot believe they are old enough to understand that they must remain quiet or why. I wake up feeling distressed, as though the situation is awfully bleak.
[Of my mom, I'd say she is self-sacrificing and tending toward martyrdom to a degree, yet is also generous, stubborn, an extrovert, drinks too much alcohol, is often in denial about her addiction to whiskey or about the extent of other difficulties, yet can be stubborn too in defense of her own independence, insistent on doing things her way, even if that does not seem always, to others who care about her, the most practical means of taking care of her own interests. She is probably still [despite age, at 95, and a little dementia] of somewhat above average intelligence and is resourceful in getting others' help, is also, or has been, a good storyteller and an above average gardener, investor, volunteer, and facilitator, as with her leading others in social engagements and with being a fixture for many years at the Y in Waco as an aerobics teacher and activities coordinator, yet lately is showing signs of at least mild mental lapses, repeating herself often, particularly once she has had too much to drink.]
4/23/18 - Title: "Stalled"
I am driving my car in our neighborhood but notice it has much less power than usual. In fact, even as I observe this, the motor almost dies. I can barely keep it going by pumping the accelerator. Just as it does seem to die, I get it going one more time and hope, then, I can get the vehicle around the block and back to our driveway. However, seconds after that last time of just getting it going again, it dies completely and is unresponsive when I attempt to restart it. It is stranded about 2/3 of the way between the intersections of Tiffany/Saloma and Tiffany/San Simeon (around the block to the right from our place - if we are facing our street from inside our house - and Tiffany is perpendicular to the street in front of our house). I wonder if I have the strength by myself to push the car over to the curb, while avoiding a car already parked over there, or if it will have to stay out in the way of traffic till I can get help and, at the same time, I consider how I can get it fixed. Evidently I'll need to have it towed to one of the mechanics I have used. (While pondering these two things, I wake up.)