May 8, 1997 - Dreams, Memories and Wishes

~~Dreams, Memories and Wishes~~

Thursday, May 8, 1997

At work this morning, when I told Lisa and Kelly my story of stabbing myself in the stomach with a table knife while digging candle wax out of a glass holder, we decided I should have titled the journal entry, "Hara-Kiri in the Kitchen."

This morning Bob told me that he got on AOL last night and read the past couple of months of journal entries. He hasn't read them for a long time, so, just like anytime someone I know tells me they're reading this journal, I thought back over what I've written and wondered if there was anything I shouldn't have said. I asked him what he thought and he said he enjoyed them; he likes to read a lot of them at once rather than reading them as I write them. He said he can tell when I'm in a bad mood or tired, because the entries sound different, and they're shorter. I remember when he said that before, the last time he read a bunch of them at once. I told Barb and she said, "Can't he tell at the time? After all, he's living it with you!"

Dora wrote tonight about my most recent candle accident, and then she just offhandedly asked if I'd been to Camp SARK yet. I scrambled around and found my copy of the Museletter, and sure enough, there was a web address, hidden underneath the postal service's rubber-stamped hieroglyphics. I immediately went there, of course. And then, speaking of SARK, in the mail tonight was a catalog from Red Rose Collection, where I first found SARK. In the catalog was a tiny chest of drawers, topped with an angel, with drawers labeled for "Dreams," "Memories," and "Wishes."

This reminded me of a list I used to keep. I had seen little ceramic jars for sale in a shop, each of them labeled as to their contents ("Daydreams," "Time," "Hugs"). I loved this idea, and started keeping a list of the kinds of things these little jars could hold. Some of them were things that I would love to have on hand, to be able to open a jar and partake of at will, and some were things that are best left on the shelf, corked tight.

Imagine a tiny apothecary, dark and dim, crammed with row after row of misshapen pottery jars, discolored corks jammed in their tops, most of them dusty, some smudged from being handled. You walk down the rows, picking up first one, then another, pondering how best to spend your limited funds, while the stooped proprietor shuffles along behind you to be sure you don't slip one of the jars--"Prosperity," perhaps, or "Justice"--in your pocket. A shaft of weak sunlight full of dust motes angles down from a high, smeared window, and illuminates exactly what you've been looking for all your life . . .

Enough Time
Daydreams
Healing Laughter
A Quiet Hour
Starry Nights
Sweet Dreams
Good Ideas
Cherished Illusions
Good Intentions
Moonlight
Magic
Reassurance
Sunbeams
Happy Memories
Best Laid Plans
Misplaced Loyalty
Unrealized Potential
Courage
Harmony
Wisdom
Solace
Inner Beauty
Determination
Rainbows
Childish Wonder
Unconditional Love
Dreamless Sleep

Also in the mail tonight was a great "Little Prince" postcard from Barb--"I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now," and a gorgeous one of a lighthouse and crashing surf from Santa Cruz.

I don't think I told this story, another occurrence of web serendipity. A guy who was hooked on Stuart Hall steno pads ran out of them and couldn't find a source to buy them. He did a search on the web and ran across my journal where I mentioned using Stuart Hall Executive Notebooks. He wrote to me, asking if I knew of any national chains that carried them. I didn't, but the next day I went to the grocery store and found three of them in the office supplies aisle. I bought them, wrote to him that if he wanted them I'd send them to him. He did, I did, and today I got his check in payment, along with the postcard.

Jackie's been doing a thing for a week or so where she copies the look of another journal and asks her readers to guess which one it is for a small prize. She uploaded it around 3:00, so I'm sure someone has guessed by now. Take a look: Ready for Anything.

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