Dreams Do Come True

Ever since I was little I have always remembered my dreams and would wake in the morning and recount them enthusiastically to my family as if they were 'real'.
Even to this day, if I have a particularly interesting dream I'll phone my sister for help with its interpretation.
Part of my fascination with them is that I've had a couple that have come true.
The most exciting one was when I was pregnant.
I was due to have my baby on the 10th of December and didn't know whether I was having a boy or a girl, but one night I had a very vivid dream.
I was holding a baby girl in my arms and as I looked at a digital watch on my wrist, it read 11.12.
I woke excitedly and was sure I was going to have a little girl, and that she would be born on the 11th of the 12th (December), not the 10th. 
Well, the next morning I told everyone I was definitely having a girl and she was going to be born on the 11th.
I was absolutely convinced, but the 11th came ... and went, and I was still waddling around!
Obviously everyone thought it was just another dream.
When the 19th came and there was still no sign, I was taken into hospital to be induced, and after many hours rushed to the theatre on the morning of the 20th for an emergency cesarean.
As I was coming round from the anaesthetic, I was told I had a healthy baby girl.
Because of the dream I wasn't surprised, but when I'd recovered a little and looked at her notes and saw ... Time of Birth 11.12  ... I couldn't help but squeal.
The dream had come true, I'd just misunderstood it!
I had an overwhelming feeling that whatever happened from this point on, that the little girl sleeping soundly in the funny plastic dish beside me, was 'meant to be'.
And if possible...was even more special because I'd dreamed her first  :o)

The Puppet Show

On our daughter's sixth birthday (many years ago now) we decided to do something different for her party. As she had a few hand puppets at the time, we thought it would be fun to put on a puppet show. We all had a great time making a Punch and Judy style box from cardboard and her Dad enthusiastically volunteered to be the 'puppeteer'. To add to it, we also made the party fancy dress.

When the day arrived, our daughter, dressed as a cat, opened the door to 3 ninja turtles, a ballerina, a vampire, a fairy, another cat and lastly a very convincing looking cowboy equipped with Sheriffs badge, stetson, holster and shiny gun with firing paper blanks.

The party got off to a great start, and when they'd finished playing musical statues and disappeared with some new toys into the garden, Dad squeezed himself into the box with bunny, fox, yellow bird, badger, Mr. Beaver and a bag of boiled sweets to throw to the children for the Grand Finale. When he was completely ready, I called them in. 

Their faces lit up at the red and white crepe covered box and they all sat in a row, cross-legged, like little angels about 2 feet away. Dad began and was doing a fantastic job, quick puppet changes, different voices, the lot. It was all going just brilliantly ... until ... the convincing cowboy (whom I think may have had a shorter than average attention span) decided to use the animals as target practise with his gun. And as he grew more and more rowdy, you could actually feel the mood of the room change.

Well, it wasn't long before he'd mustered up his own full blown posse.

At this point, no-one was listening to the fox, who had lost the rather endearing squeaky voice he'd begun with, and was now shouting at the top of his lungs to be heard over the 'angels' who were rapidly displaying early signs of mob mentality. And from my viewing point in the kitchen, I could hear one of the ninja turtles agreeing with the cowboy to 'pull the box down'. 

This was when it turned nasty.

Like a Disney scene gone wrong, they all advanced toward the box as one.

Dad, who had been really looking forward to this (bless him, and had practised and practised his script) started tossing out the Grand Finale sweets in an attempt to placate the ensuing mass, but to no avail, and as they gained momentum ... he LOST IT!

He hurled all the sweets out the box via Mr. Beaver in a final and desperate bid to stop them, but it was too late.

I watched, mouth agape as they 'tore' the box apart ... leaving Dad frantic, surrounded by animals, fox limp on one hand and Mr. Beaver on the other still clutching a fist full of sweets.

I quickly took charge, telling the little darlings that the party bags were in the kitchen, and as if by magic they returned to their angelic former selves and skipped from the room full of smiles ... leaving behind what I can only describe as a shell of a man, staring wild eyed on his knees in the middle of the room surrounded by torn up cardboard, puppets and boiled sweets!

Whenever we think of that day we can't help but laugh, but without fail, Dad always finishes with a frustrated look in his eye and ... it would've been fine if you hadn't invited that bloody cowboy!

Do They Make Dog Glasses?

My Mum's lovely dog Tamba is now 15, and although she is remarkably well for her age we have long suspected her eyes are not what they used to be.

This was recently confirmed on one of her daily walks.

Now, whenever Tamba sees another dog on a lead she will always have a little bark at it before saying hello.

And?  I hear you ask.

Well on this particular walk when she started up her barking ready to meet a prospective new friend, my Mum couldn't see a dog anywhere.

But Tamba was insistent and headed enthusiastically toward a shopping trolley a lady was pulling behind her with her tail wagging ready to say hello.

Needless to say, this particular new friend didn't say hello back.

Bless her  :o)

The Giant Father Christmas

The first Christmas our daughter was in her Reception year at school, they hired a hall for the Christmas party. All the parents turned up to escort the little ones on the short journey, and we arrived to a room full of balloons and decorations. The afternoon began with games, then there was cake and jelly, and this left just the present giving from Father Christmas himself.

There was only one male teacher and luckily he was absolutely perfect for the job. He was about 5 foot 4 inches tall, as round as he was tall, wore his own round steel rimmed glasses and he'd bought his own suit... it wasn't his first time! However, as the time approached there was a concerned murmur throughout the teachers that the children would be sure to know that it was him. This was when the request was made.

Would any of the Dads be prepared to be Father Christmas?

Four Dads had made it to the hall, and there was a lot of foot shuffling and looking the other way, so as always the serial volunteer, my husband, put his hand up. He was hurriedly escorted to a little room along the corridor and unceremoniously pushed inside with instructions to get the suit on as quick as he could. I stood outside to keep guard in case any rogue children got overly inquisitive.

The children themselves were lining up in the hall in front of a child size chair with a huge sack of presents beside it, waiting for the man himself to hand them out. One of the teachers called along the corridor for me to hurry him up, so I stuck my thumb up and tapped the door.

"How's it going?"

"It doesn't fit very well!"

"It doesn't matter, you'll look fine, just hurry they're all waiting for you."

The door slowly opened, and there he stood... all 6 foot 2 inches of him in a 5 foot 4 inch Father Christmas costume.

"How do I look?"

What could I say, there was no going back, and he did have the costume on.

"You look great, now go quickly everyone's waiting for you!"

I stood and watched, a little like you watch a car crash, as the Giant Father Christmas went running down the corridor, his little red trousers flapping around his shins.

I headed to the main hall, and there he was, knees up by his chest wedged into the tiny chair yo-ho-hoing and handing out presents like he'd been born to be Father Christmas with happy children filing by, smiles all over their faces. I couldn't have loved him more.

Our daughter was a little quiet when we got home, and unusually didn't mention anything about the day until I took her up to bed, whereupon she looked me deep in the eyes and asked me to promise her something.

"Of course what is it?"

"Don't EVER let Dad be Father Christmas again... he looked ridiculous!"

***

To everyone
I hope you all have a really Wonderful Christmas  xxx

I Got Married!

Well, we started very seriously

then we got the giggles

until eventually,

with our beautiful daughter as our witness

and after 23 wonderful years together

we finally got married

then took ourselves back home again

... to live happily ever after  :o)

Friends - Three Word Wednesday

He couldn't help but admire her - the way she had the confidence to walk like that; hips wiggling like they were alive, independent of her waist.
He called her 'a piece of work', joked she'd cause an accident, have cars running off the road - said she ought to have a licence for that thing.
They were best friends.
Truth was he was smitten and would follow her to the ends of the earth - if only she'd ask him.
She ruffled his hair. "Come on pig face, let's get a coffee."


 Three Word Wednesday where you write something using the three prompt words.   This week's words are ...  admire, piece and follow.

Her Little King

image: Michael Sowa, from The Little King

She watched the little fat King
as she stirred her coffee.
He pulled at the newspaper
regally flipping the pages,
reading aloud choice pieces.
His gown sweeping text,
scepter pointing out gems,
ones to make her smile.
She sipped at the coffee,
her fourth.
Another sleepless night
spent alone - but for him.
He was a cheerful little fellow
no airs or graces
always appearing
when she needed him most.
As she swallowed her last sip
he took off his crown
and placed it on her finger.
It sparkled and glowed
sending a warm feeling surging through her,
till it disappeared -
along with her King.
And she yawned sleepily
eyes growing tired
and took herself back to bed.

Magpie Tales prompt Mag 86.

Carry Me Far

Away to the Sky by beloavaan at deviantART

 Carry me far 

let me sleep above ancient cities

away from bustle and noise

and incessant living.

From halogen lighting 

that startles eyes I long to close

tight shut

To be allowed to dream among clouds

and silent softness.

Please carry me far

so I may escape

for just a while.

Poets United Tuesday Midnight Snack Picture Prompt

Oops ... Saturday Centus

 Saturday Centus prompt this week is to use up to 150 words, dialogue only, using "Are you seriously ordering another martini,"




"Are you seriously ordering another martini?"
"Why not? ... I've only had three."
"No you haven't, you've had seven!"
"Noo ... I can't have had seven."
"You have, I promise you."
"But I can't have!"
"Why not?"
"Because my legs always give out after I've had five!"
"Your legs have given out!"
"No?!"
"Yes!"
"Oh ... that'll be it then."
"What'll be it?"
"Why you suddenly got taller than me about half an hour ago!"

Opal

Sheep file the corridor
mirror,  follow
fingertips stripped
imitating their muse.
I yearn for passion
raw
to be thrust upon them
strengthen their verve.
Dispel this omen
that they may see
the oceans
the heavens
the fire -
the limitless beauty
in a single
solitary opal.






Written for wordle 22
at The Sunday Whirl

Autumn ... Saturday Centus

It feels like ages since I've posted, so I thought I'd join in with
Jenny Matlocks Saturday Centus shake up this week.
Use 32 words including the line "In the autumn"  
 to write 'lyrics' to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star! 

Well here goes ... clear your throat and prepare to sing  :o)


Confetti gold, jewelled lanes
In the autumn summer wanes.
Scarlet skies as evenings call
prepared for winter, bronzes fall.
Beds and blankets, nests to sleep
warm inside as winter creeps.

My First Car ... What a Character She Was!

I didn't learn to drive until I was 38, and thrilled at being mobile, splashed out all of £250 on my first car.

As I handed over the money, I had no idea what a little monkey I'd just bought.

Oh the fun we had!

She'd stall herself in 1st gear so I had to keep revving the engine at traffic lights ... often inciting young lads waiting by our side to rev violently back and gesture for us to race.

And somehow she'd manage to work the driving seat loose so that when I was driving around corners it would suddenly jerk and shift 4" in either direction.

Then she'd shake all over and pretend she was going to fall to pieces whenever we went over 40mph.

Then there was the day when the traffic was particularly bad, and the rain torrential when she decided to throw the driver side wiper away.

And not forgetting her favourite.

Only letting me know we needed more petrol at the very last minute to make our journeys that little bit more exciting.

Aaah ... it was just one laugh after another.

I miss that little monkey!