Word of the Day: Hiraeth

Word Porn. “@DalrympleWill: Love this word... and so know this feeling... pic.twitter.com/i3Jw3JqsrS”
— Inua Ellams (@InuaEllams) March 11, 2015

Notes from March 19, 2015 jotted down on my itouch

Sleeping on the train today, I was dreaming of my grandmother's house. I walked the farmhouse floors, I peered out windows, I talked to the trees. And I missed her. 

Further to these notes, and my sense memories re-triggered by the magnolias:

I have to change trains during my commute, and usually try and cat-nap during the 20-25 minutes of the second leg. For some reason, on this trip, I suddenly found myself dreaming of Grandma Ollie's North Carolina farmhouse. From washing my hands in the pink porcelain bathroom sinks, to brushing my hands along the grain of the pinewood hallway walls, to resting my elbows on an open window sill in the blue back bedroom looking out to the crepe myrtle glowing in the bright blue summer skies, and listening to clothes flapping on the laundry line, it felt like I was there and had just decided to wander around on a nostalgia tour. It was like I had just been transported to this place -- and a moment long lost in time. I could feel the breezes moving through the house, bringing with them the smell of crops ripening in the fields. I knew I was alone in the house, but it was as comfortable as it had ever been while I was there, with family visiting just down the road, or out in the fields. It was just so familiar and felt so real.

Given that this was a local train, with stops about every 5-7 minutes, with conductor announcements, flashing lights, and piercing door alarms, I couldn't have been in a dream state for very long. But ... what a dream it was.

I know it was probably just my subconscious processing the word: hireath - a word I didn't know existed until I stumbled across it on Twitter, but I'd like to think it was Grandma checking in. Or maybe it was Grandpa Jack? Maybe both of them? Maybe -- just maybe, one day I'll dream like that again.

 In the meantime, I begin to understand why I received this vision? reverie? visitation? what have you? It was preparation for news to come. And a reminder. This: Our connections to places last long after family ties are severed -- and all will be well. Home places are in our hearts, if not in our portfolios.

Driveway to The Farm house, NC c. 2010

Quote of the Day

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”

~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 

Dreaming Out Loud - Canada Calling Me Home

Image from here

A few months ago I got a text from my friend Christine that read something to the effect of:

Do you have a passport?

Yes ...

And a few texts later:

Do you want to go on a cruise?

Depends on when and where ....

And still later:

To Canada?

I had to call her back after that one ... because I was shaking. A lot.

NB & Nat'l flag image from here

Back at the beginning of the year, when I started jotting down the preliminary notes for what would be the seeds for these future Dreaming Out Loud installments, I made the following entry: 

NOT a cruise, but a smaller boat trip – maybe to:

Prince Edward Island – for my Anne of Green Gables addiction, and to find the port of entry where my ancestors came in from England

Or

Alaska

I don't think I had ever articulated this dream to Christine. There are more times than I care to count, however, when Christine and I have been on some weird karmic connection when it comes to calls, cards, e-mails, jokes, observations and other odd things. 

Carnival Glory: Photo credit

After talking to her I got the details of this proposed cruise, and while it may not be the EXACT dream, it's pretty darn close. I've learned to start taking advantage of opportunities like this when they come up. Call it a prompting. An opening. What have you.

So I'm getting on a boat. A big boat. A ship even. This Carnival Glory cruise liner, actually. With over 5,000 other people and spending a week doing something I never envisioned at the beginning of this year when I started to dream. Cruising. Me. The introvert. Who would have thought? It will be an adventure to say the least. I hope poor Christine realizes what she's in for. (And, hopefully, The Shushing Librarian is coming with us, so who knows what will happen.)

Nova Scotia flag image from here

 

While it turns out this cruise won't be heading to Prince Edward Island, we will be getting close enough ... this time ... and spending a day exploring Saint John, New Brunswick and Halifax, Nova Scotia. While Saint John is also a port city, Halifax was a major port of call, especially back when my ancestors were migrating to North America and I feel there's this mysterious connection calling to me.

I just can't tell you where and what and when that connection is ... but it's there. In the seas. In the land. In the songs. In the breeze. And, in the genes.

 This trip is just whetting my appetite for the Canadian Maritimes.

Image from here

With a day in port in both cities, there is not time for major island hopping or genealogical explorations, so the plan includes touristy things, like:

 

Pier 21, Halifax: Photo credit

Citadel, Halifax: Photo credit

Public Gardens, Halifax: Photo Credit

Saint John, NB City Market: Credit

Photo credit

As more of our family history has been explored, more and more of the "pull" back to PEI can be explained due to family connections. I thought it was just my love for that "Anne Girl," but turns out my father's ancestors ended up settling in, and being buried, in the same mid-Island area that are close to the roads and lanes of L.M. Montgomery's beloved books. 

Photo credit

Photo credit

About two weeks after I agreed to go on the cruise, I got an e-mail from Cousin Frank, (the aforementioned author of the book about a paternal grandfather), outlining plans for the first Annual International Reunion scheduled for Prince Edward Island from July 25-29, reconnecting some of our family lines which have long been severed ("slightly") since the family left the island in 1850. 40 odd "cousins" were planning to visit family sites on the island, including homesteads, the port from whence the family sailed from PEI to the USA, the graveyard where a great+ grand-father and mother are buries, AND, (this is what got to me):

• "All of the Anne of Green Gables "stuff" ... Mongomery gravesite, schoolhouse, etc."

People who don't believe in mysterious heavenly influences having a tug on our heart strings and collective consciousnesses ... I don't get them. 

*MY* ancestors are definitely up there trying to get us all headed in the right direction --back up north -- but as usual, my timing is all off and I was overcommitted.

I still dream of PEI, but for the next week or so, I'll just be out to sea, coming close to "home" port, but not quite. I have a feeling I'll still be having sweet dreams.

Wish me luck and ... Bon Voyage  

until my return to the Attic and blogging in general.

Photo credit information

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

"Sea" you soon ... or later.

Signs of Summer on the Horizon

I was going to apologize for the intermittent postings, but I'm not, after all. I've been dealing with other things, like working late, outside consultants, the heat wave, working my way through a personal to-do list ... and sometimes, stepping away from one thing so you have the energy to deal with other things is more important that sitting at a computer for MORE of your day.

We all have so much to do, it's easy to overlook the obvious. For example, New Yorkers are so stressed out that new and innovative means of getting our attention can come in the form of a DOT haiku, or a reminder from one neighbor to another to remember to hydrate.

The clouds on the horizon can be interpreted many ways. This makes it look like things are clearing up, doesn't it? WRONG. 10 minutes later, massive summer shower with lightning and boomers. 

Looking up from your train reading can reveal that while you did miss a lovely day, you still had time to appreciate the sunset.

Words from your friendly neighborhood graffiti artist scrawled on your subway platform are good in any setting.

 As is this inspirational piece at Christine's ...

For now, posting will be sparse. 

I'm off and around, out and about, and soon, to be shipping out.

I'll be back to

soon enough.

Quote of the Day: Neil Gaiman

Via the Twitters

Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

Recipe for Reflection

Once upon I had a dream. It was so vivid. It was one of those dreams you wake up from and you can't believe that where you just were wasn’t your “real life.” It involved me being a bonus mom to two blonde little boys. We adored each other.

Adored.

But then I woke up.

Wondered. Cried a little. And tried to put it behind me.

Life has gone on.

The dream has faded.

It’s now a bittersweet memory – one that is only occasionally revived as the years have gone on by the casual mention by one of the two people I shared it with, or some other trigger or another.

I have a blonde little boy in my life. Two actually. But they are not mine to mother.

But, I had an epiphany this afternoon.

I was in the midst of stirring in the 4 cups of flour in yet another cookie recipe. Muttering in my head. Cursing my compulsion.

Why do I do this? Why do I feel the necessity of constantly making cookies? Why do I bother? Dang (actually another word) my shoulder hurts, I should stop stirring for a moment.

So I did.

And I realized.

I realized who all these cookies end up feeding, besides me.

The I.T. boys
The Security Guard Dudes
The MailRoom Guys

Huh! So, I do have my boys.

Better yet. I don’t have to mother them. I don’t have to pick up after them, deal with their laundry, harass them about their chores, find their lost stuff, shuttle them to practices, deal with their boy stinkiness, clean up after their bathroom issues, or handle all the annoying things. I just have to feed them occasionally.

This is better.

But still.

I can’t help but remember how I felt in the dream.




I might have been a good mother.


.....


Right.

Back to stirring

What Dreams May Come

Dear G-Dawg:

I woke up weeping this morning from the most vivid dream. All I remember is snatches – except for the last bit. I still grieve for the loss of something that I know wasn’t real, but I still can't shake this dream.

I can still feel the sensation of being so cherished, like I was a surprising gift that was recently discovered. The fleeting memories of a casual embrace that I started, and then you tentatively reciprocated. What was meant to be brief ended up as something else, something much more important. I can still feel you take the leap at the opportunity, and then wrap your arms tighter around me – drawing me in closer, not once but two times. I can still feel time stop … as we caught our breath and our heartbeats matched rhythms for the length of five slow beats. I felt and counted them with my cheek against your chest and my palms on your back. I can still sense how surprised you were, yet happily so, as you dipped your head down to my shoulder with the deep sigh that I echoed. I know how secure I was in the rightness of the impulse that led to this special moment out of time. Like all the words that we never could say and never needed to be now. We were finally where we were supposed to be.

I ache that I woke and don’t remember more.

All I can ask now, is

Where are you?

~Auntie Nettie

Photo of the Day - Riggins Reverie

Nettie's Dream Cottage?

River Trip, Riggins, Idaho, August 2010

isn't it cute? all Victorian and tucked away in a secret garden, peeking through the sunlight.

so what if it's the medical center? i know it has river views.

What Dreams may come

I need to go to the library and check out a book on dream interpretations. Two of my friends report that I've been making cameos during their REM cycles. I'm not quite sure what my cameos mean.

Most recently Auntie's "oldest*" friend Jenn reported the following:

"I had a dream last night with you and D.N.[high school classmate's name changed to protect the innocent] and Max Medina from G[ilmore] G[irls] in it, very odd!"

My first reaction? I hope he was more into me than D.N.. Ridiculous, I know. She's a perfectly nice woman, but suffice it to say, high school baggage never completely goes away. Plus, Mr. Medina was/is MY type. Tall, dark, educated, snarky, but nice.

I wondered, though, in the dream ... were we on our way to Chilton? If D.N. was in the dream, did that mean that we three were back in high school and Mr. Medina was our teacher? And if so, then that would take on icky Lolita overtones. (Jenn! What were you drinking/eating before you went to bed that night?!)

That is NO WHERE as disturbing as the e-mail I got over the summer from Krippy, entitled ALIVE?:

Hey

[My husband] had a dream that you died. SO, I’m checking on you. You alive?

xoxoxo**

You do have to wonder a few things.

Why was I featured in her husband's dream in the first place? If I didn't know both of them for so long and so well, I would be concerned on Krippy's behalf that I was making a cameo in her husband's dreams.

What the heck exactly happened to me? I mean, I very rarely can remember all my dreams upon waking. What exactly freaked him out that he woke up remembering and then told Krippy? To be fair, this was around the time of a plane crash, and I had just flown out to visit family, so there might have been that going on somewhere in his subconscious. I haven't actually spoken to her hubby in quite a while, so I don't know what else could trigger this.

Obviously it didn't freak out Krippy too much. (Thus, the e-mail instead of a phone call at 3:00 a.m.) Plus, Krippy has enough to deal with without that particular dream coming true. I do warn her now before I go on trips or do anything too exciting (like jump out of planes). I don't want to keep making cameos like that.

I know other people play cameos in my dreams, but for the most part ... I keep that information to myself. No need to let on to quite how odd I really am. Some things are best unknown.

In any event, it's good to know I'd be missed. Thanks for reassuring me Krippy and co.


*and I use this term to denote the longest friendship relationship, and not to cast chronological aspirations.
** the hugs and kisses did NOTHING to not freak me out more over the 1st sentence.