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This is Dani Smith

 

I am Dani Smith, sometimes known around the web as Eglentyne. I am a writer in Texas. I like my beer and my chocolate bitter and my pens pointy.

This blog is one of my hobbies. I also knit, sew, run, parent, cook, eat, read, and procrastinate. I have too many hobbies and don’t sleep enough. Around here I talk about whatever is on my mind, mostly reading and writing, but if you hang out long enough, some knitting is bound to show up.

Thank you for respecting my intellectual property and for promoting the free-flow of information and ideas. If you’re not respecting intellectual property, then you’re stealing. Don’t be a stealer. Steelers are ok sometimes (not all of them), but don’t be a thief.

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    Wednesday
    Mar232011

    Hatching Eggs, a weird dream

    I had a very strange dream. In the nature of dreams, not all of it made sense. So as I relate it to you here, I have freely edited to add some sense (though not all).

    Walking with my Very Large Dog through a wooded area near my home (I don’t actually have a dog or a wooded area, and it wasn’t my actual home or any home I’ve ever had), I found four eggs. Make note of that. FOUR. For some reason, I believed these eggs to be abandoned, but viable, though I do not know what kind of birds they were.

    I carried the eggs home, glancing at my watch because I had somewhere to be. Where? I had to go get some clothes for an important event. What clothes? What event? No idea. You tell me. Your guess will probably be just as appropriate. 

    I climbed the steps to the top floor of the townhouse where I lived, climbed the ladder of a bunkbed in the corner bedroom, and opened a small door that enclosed a tiny storage space above the top of the stairs. (Doesn’t everyone have one of these? No? We had something like this UNDER some basement stairs once. It’s the sort of cupboard that would feel at home in a horror movie. I would expect small creepy creatures to come out, or perhaps a portal to another dimension. In this case it was just a cupboard.)

    The cupboard was empty except for a bare lightbulb. The lightbulb was very hot, so I put the bowl/basket/something holding the FOUR eggs into the cabinet to keep them warm while I went to procure clothes. (Note, I never once thought “shopping” during the dream. Probably because I don’t like shopping. Perhaps I was going to go borrow clothes from someone? Or steal them?)

    I didn’t get to go procuring though. Before I could close the cabinet door, one egg started hatching. This egg hatched dream-style. As in super-fast. Bam! Fluffy little birdling, dry, and running around on the bed where I sat. I reached quickly to catch the little bird, wondering if it was a duck, when the crazy little bugger jumped off the bed to the floor. I was sure it was dead. No way a newborn chick could survive a five foot fall, right?

    I peeked over the edge of the bed, squinting against potential nastiness. The bird was stunned, as indicated by the cartoonish large eyes, and feathers spiked out into fluffball points. I gaped. It recovered and took off across the bedroom floor. Meanwhile, behind me, the other THREE eggs hatched and the birdlings did a similar leap off the bed into cartoon-stun.

    Gratuitous Boob Shot 

    I scrambled off the bed, worried that the FOUR birds would dive down the stairs or something, and wondering where the dog could be. I chased the birds down the stairs and watched them run in chirpy little circles around the living room. 

    Then Sonar X8 joined me. (Hi Sonar X8!) We decided to get a box to hold the birds. I walked through a door to a front room/sun porch thing (the contents of which resembled our actual laundry room; boxes and stuff piled everywhere), and scooped up one of the birds who ran in front of me. Bird in one hand, box in the other, I heard a great woof, and turned to watch my Very Large (dream) Dog, crash through the front door, knocking it to the floor. The dog stopped and looked around at the crashed door, then walked into the living room. I dropped the box and walked right behind the dog, catching him by the collar in case he might want to lick up some little birds. I put him back outside, telling him firmly to stay (Why did I not contain him somehow? Oh yeah, dream.). He walked away and lifted his leg to gush out a gallon of pee on a neighbor’s front mat.

    I could not lift the heavy front door back onto its hinges without help. I looked down at the fluffy bird still in my hand. Except that it wasn’t a fluffy bird anymore. It was a brand new, fuzzy, average-sized, baby. A human baby. A newborn. Somehow in my surprise I did not drop it. I left the broken door, firmly shut the inner door of the porchy room, and Sonar X8 and I went in search of the other THREE birdlings/babies. 

    Six of them were on the area rug in the living room. Four were on the couch and rocking chair. I could hear the other one crying from somewhere upstairs. While contemplating just what to do with a dozen babies that were formerly stray, wild, birds hatched in my upstairs cupboard, I decided it was time to wake up.

    Reader Comments (11)

    Um...

    March 23, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterCab

    Haha Best comment ever, Cab. That's exactly what I thought when I woke up.

    March 23, 2011 | Registered CommenterEglentyne

    This gets better and better on subsequent readings. I totally understand the relevance of the photo, too.

    What exactly did you have for dinner last night. I gotta get me some of that.

    March 23, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterCab

    Noodles with peas and Thai-ish peanut sauce. Plus a side of vampire novel and an episode of zombie TV. Or maybe it was this:

    http://www.tor.com/images/stories/Comics/ComeauandHorne/Comics/asw16.jpg

    The photo is the first in a new series, and is, of course, gratuitous, as stated. lol

    March 23, 2011 | Registered CommenterEglentyne

    I am hugely offended by your super sexyness.

    Also. jealous that you hatched a dozen babies without even trying.

    Also, your dog is kind of an asshole dog. I think it's time to donate him to a family with a lot of land, sounds like he needs more room to run.

    ALSO. my house is very messy 'cause I've been doing nonsense like this ALL DAY.

    One more also: don't tell Mike.

    March 23, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterAmy D

    Amy, I swear to Susan, if I hatched a dozen babies that easily, I'd happily share them with anybody who wanted a couple. And in defense of the dog, he was sort of cool. He was like Hooch (of "Turner and" fame) without the ropey drool. He moved in a slow, thoughtful way. I don't think he'd eat the babies, and I didn't like that neighbor anyway.

    I forgot one important detail. Surely it is the explanation of the entire dream. The soundtrack of the dream, indeed the song that was stuck in my head when I woke up in the morning: "The Good Times Are Killing Me" by Modest Mouse.

    Bring me more Thai noodles.

    March 23, 2011 | Registered CommenterEglentyne

    You just answered my question for the day--what my blog post is going to be about. Dream babies are sensational. Ima Thai noodle sorta gal. :)

    March 24, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterVictoria

    lol Victoria, I can't wait. Let me know when you post and I'll drop a link here.

    March 24, 2011 | Registered CommenterEglentyne

    Here is Victoria's fabulous Dream With Teeth: http://pennyjars.wordpress.com/2011/03/24/throw-me-thursday-little-nipper/

    Reminds me of a pregnancy dream of a family member. At one point in the dream, the mom was holding the baby, but then sliced him open to find that he was watermelon on the inside. I wonder if she was eating Thai noodles then too?

    March 25, 2011 | Registered CommenterEglentyne

    very odd indeed. and then there was a gratuitous boob shot which kind of turned it from art film into hollywood ;-)

    March 25, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterSomnicide

    Right, Patrick, totally going for Hollywood. In my art film I'd have kept them far more naked. And there would have been some traffic flares.

    March 25, 2011 | Registered CommenterEglentyne

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