DaisyCrown Dreams

Dream Diary and Story of Alice (Fictional)

[daisycrowndreams]

The next day

She wakes up to Sunlight piercing though the curtains Lipstick smudges on her glass A pumpkin sitting on the doorstep One shoe is still missing Wishes she could be Sleeping Beauty

[bi-p0ler]

[daisycrowndreams]

Happy New Year!

[almashafira]

[daisycrowndreams]

Christmas, family and childhood friendship

I had a nice, lazy Christmas with my parents. Even though they are only two bus rides away I don't see them as often as I should, so I love the quiet, slow Christmas days. Even more so after a good weekend of pre-Christmas fun with my friends. ;) I spent most of the day -sorry, I meant afternoon, I slept in- trying to make a  special Christmas Pavlova, but unfortunately pavlova and me are not meant to be together. I had all the ingredients for tiramisu (as a part of my emergency food supplies) and just about enough time to make it. While it was cooling I showered and dressed (a nice new sequinned jumper that made me feel all sparkly) and with my big bowl of sugary goodness I arrived at my parents house.

As usual my dad had done all the decorations, with some real Christmas branches in the hallway and a beautiful tree in the living room. He even moved the large kitchen table to what my parents keep referring to as 'The Dining Room.' Because we're so posh ;)

My mum had prepared a lovely dinner, and after the usual inquiry about boyfriends and friends we sat down. I swear, my mother remembers each and every guy I ever dated (as long as I told her that is), as well as all my friends and who they dated, where they worked and everything. She pretty much knows everyone too.

I asked her about that childhood friend, the one I used to play with when I was little, but I can't remember much about. If anyone can come up with details from such a vague memory, it is my mum. And she did.

When I was about three, all of a sudden I had a best friend. I talked about him and the fun things we did all the time. I didn't mind playing with other children, but if I could I would always play with him. At first, my mother had thought I was talking about my little stuffed horsey that I brought everywhere with me. But when asked, I very decidedly told her that no of course not, that was Mister Theo. I had pointed to an empty chair and asked her why my friend never got a cookie when I did.

It had her quite worried.

She even brought me to a psychiatrist specialised in children. I vaguely recall a big, nice smelling man with a prickly beard and lots of toys. What I remember is feeling sorry for him because he didn't have all the nice toys I had at home and so I pretended to really like them. He had told my mother that it was not uncommon for a single child to make up an invisible friend.

When my mum was telling this, my dad reached out and held her hand. They can be so cute together. They had wanted another child very much. Just like I had wished for a little brother or sister every Christmas (I gave up on birthdays real soon, my hopes were with Santa). But, as my parents will always say when the subject comes up: it hadn't happened and God had already blessed them with a beautiful daughter.

"But what was the name of my friend?" I asked my mother. "O, yes,"she said, "it was very unusual. We were curious where that one came from. His name was Kalem."

Kalem. Well, that's another clue I will look into ;)

[rockchickana]

sandscape #26 by serni on Flickr.

[thedevilinmyblood-stream]

[iwantmoretoys]

A sandbox is a great place to have fun and express your creativity. Give your children a cool sandbox they can spend hours in. http://www.iwantmoretoys.com/backyard-sandbox

[daisycrowndreams]

Sandbox

This is a memory that comes up clearly when I think of my dream song.

I am sitting in my sandbox, not sure how old I am. Somewhere between three and six I guess because the sandbox looks pretty big. Now it wasn't one of those tiny green turtle sandboxes, my father dug it out and filled it himself, but still it all felt a lot bigger when I was smaller.

I had made a landscape. I loved making landscapes and just saying the word made me feel all grown up. The sandbox was now filled with little sand hills and sand mountains, sticks for a forest and some sand bumps for houses. A hand wide crevice snaked through it all, intended to be a river. Mum didn't let me have any water to put in it and I didn't want to waste my lemonade. So it was a dry river.

The overlapping shadows from the trees overhead made the sand all different colours of grey and greyish brown. The layers of shadow dimmed the light and warmth of a summer's day, making me feel sheltered and secure. The sandbox was my favourite place to be in summer. I used to sneak out my dolls and always cried when they got sand in their hair. I guess that's why it wasn't allowed.

I had no dolls that day, so instead I walked around with the index and middle finger of my right hand, creating small footsteps on the hills, between the trees and around the houses. Then I did the same for my friend, who couldn't do that himself.

Odd. There the memory stops. I can remember that a friend was there, that it was a he, and that I always had to help him. Nothing more though.

I'll ask my mum. Maybe she knows who that was. It might not mean anything but it is a place to start.

[daisycrowndreams]

The Jitterbug, funny instructional.

"Having learned the steps you now forget them completely." Sounds like something I could do. :)

[janners5-blog]

Christmas lights on Grafton Street (and Suffolk Street), Dublin, Ireland.

[lakshmintrance]

Looking For Awesome Hats This Winter? Whatever Your Choice Maybe Be, Wear It With Confidence, Either For Your Casual Or Your Dressy Look! Check My Picks: http://bit.ly/1bhWU0H

[daisycrowndreams]

Aunt Renie's World Tour by maureen maher

TOUCH this image to discover its story. Image tagging powered by ThingLink

A lovely picture that shows Aunt Renies adventures!

[daisycrowndreams]

Helping Aunt Renie

Aunt Renie called last week. I was surprised she remembered me at all, we only met once and that was years ago. She made a great impression on me then, so when she asked to meet me I decided I could take a day off from work. She had a very important question for me, that she was confident I would be able to handle. Feeling honoured that such a resourceful lady should need my help, I agreed to meet her that same afternoon.

We met in Bewley's, on Grafton Street. It is a lovely, fancy place to have coffee in the middle of town. Aunt Renie was sitting at one of the small tables in the front room. She had both hands around a cup of coffee, staring over it into nothing, lost in thought or memories. Old ladies have lots of memories. It was the first time I realised she is old, somehow I never thought of her that way before. Then she noticed me and smiled, and that familiar Miss Marple sparkle returned to her eyes.

I sat down with here and she explained that she needed a good, new winter hat. Not because she didn't like the hat she was wearing (a horrible thing with a felted flower on the side), not that it was falling apart as it was a very sturdy hat, a once-in-a-lifetime buy that was worth every penny, no, simply because it was not as warm as it needed to be for some of the places she intended to visit. A good, sensible young woman like myself should have no problem in finding a decent winter hat for her. She didn't know it, but a few days earlier someone else had asked me to select a scarf for her as a gift. It had already been sent, but luckily I knew that her new hat had to combine with the colour red.

We set off immediately, Renie's coffee unfinished and before I could order anything.

It was cold outside, windy and overcast, the kind of weather that suddenly makes everyone love hot chocolate and roaring hearth fires. Christmas lights were trying to spread some cheer but most people walked by briskly. As did Aunt Renie. My God, she keeps up a pace! No leisurely window shopping, but marching on with a purpose! Just trying to keep up had me warm and flustered.

We went to several stores (she didn't like the hat store, said she wasn't old enough to buy one of those. But she hás one of those, ah well). Before long Aunt Renie had her mind on a white woollen hat with ear flaps that you could tie together. And actually tied them together. Of course that is possible, but that really doesn't mean that you should. If you know Aunt Renie, try to picture here in this hat, with the ear flaps tied under her skin (with a neat bow) and the pompom sticking out high above her head. I had to save her from this.

I made several arguments, but the saleswoman joined us and started countering each and every one of them. According to her the hat was cute and timeless. Which is true, but only if you're a six year old girl forever. In between us Aunt Renie didn't seem in the least bit uncomfortable. In fact, she had started striking poses with the hat in the mirror. In the end, she offered us the solution herself. We would look at a few more hats and unless we found something better, we would return for this one. Saying this she undid the bow, placed the hat solemnly back on the shelf and with a friendly nod to the saleswoman, strode out the shop. Outside she started to giggle. Despite myself, so did I.

This is the hat Aunt Renie settled on finally, in H&M. It is not what I had in mind, but at least there's no pompoms and it will not collide with the colour red. I did my best. It does suit her somehow.

just before she left, she said something that left me wondering. "Life is a bit like an oven," she said, "whatever you put in comes back to you changed. But if you put nothing in, all you end up with is a lot of hot air." There was no more time to ask her what she meant. When I thought about it, it seemed kind of a sad thing to say.

[daisycrowndreams]

Dream Song

It's been a crazy busy week. A lot of last minute, high priority clients (that always come with high levels of stress for everyone in the office) and an unexpected visit from an old acquaintance of mine Aunt Renie. I was surprised she remembered me at all, but more on that another time.

In between all that I've been trying to find the song from my dreams. I just know I did not make this up and if I figure out where it comes from, it will be easier to understand why I am dreaming this, I am sure. I've asked Sarah, who's boyfriend works in a music store and knows about a lot of different types of music. I've asked colleagues, other friends, and even managed to contact a private investigator. They all ask me what the song sounds like and then I go all mumbly-dumbly because I don't know how to describe it. It is really hard to remember details, even when I've been dreaming this for weeks now. An overall feeling, yes, but being specific, not so much. But if I'm to find this song I need to be able to explain it.

So. Here we go. Attempt number seven today.

First of all, it is like nothing I normally listen to. I love music like Christina Aguilera, Alicia Keys (love her!), Beyonce and many others. I love a good ballad, but often prefer a little more upbeat, danceable music. The song of my dream is none of that. There is not much more to it than a voice singing. I think it is a woman, because the song is quite high in pitch and even though I've heard men sing that high, few can do it. So it could be a man, but I think it is probably a woman. And a good singer. The voice is beautiful, full, expressive, round with a bit of an edge to it. It isn't sweet or soft, but strong and flawless. There is no vibrato (that wobbly singing that opera singers use a lot), the voice is very clear and steady. There are some long notes in the song so you can hear that well.

There are no instruments in my dream, but there might be in the real song. It is a slow song, it could be a lullaby. So if there is instruments at all, I would not expect there to be a heavy beat, drums, no loud guitars and such. Maybe an orchestra, or maybe something acoustic like a piano, a guitar or something folksy. Or maybe nothing, just a voice like in my dream.

The best description of the song I can give, is beautiful. Beautiful in a timeless, Audrey Hepburn meets Kate Moss sort of way. And then some. It makes me feel safe, held, loved. It is as if whoever is singing knows me, better than my friends, better than my parents, better even than I know myself. Hmm, I seem to be rambling.

There are some long notes in it and some shorter that come in between. The longer notes keep getting intenser as the go on, when I think of them they make me breathe deeper, relax and go quiet inside. The shorter notes seem to drive the melody forward. There is no words.

This is frustrating, I'm not sure I'm going to have my colleagues read this. I hope it is helpful at all.

Other than beautiful the song is loving and sad. It has me waking up feeling I lost something that matters. (I wonder, is this what grieving feels like?) No, it makes me feel I am about to lose something so precious to me, I can't live without. But I don't know what it is and so I can't hold on, can do nothing to stop it. That is how I feel every morning.

If anyone can help me find this song I would be most grateful. Even if you're not sure, the name of a singer, a song similar to this might lead me further. If you have any idea at all, please let me know. You can find me on twitter ( @daisycrowndream ) or send in your ideas here.

[kenziestuart-deactivated2018071]

[daisycrowndreams]

Sleepless

I thought I was happy. Just last night, watching Funny Face with Audrey Hepburn. My mum and I used to watch this together when I was young, it always makes me feel good. Especially that song in Paris, I always imagined it was me someday.

I couldn't sleep after. I was just laying in bed, crumpling the sheets, staring at the ceiling. For some reason I noticed that in the dark, my ceiling isn't white but a purple shade of blue, darker at the corners. Probably because of my purple curtains. And by probably I mean obviously. The filtered light (or should I say filtered darkness? That's how it felt) made my whole room a sort of quiet underwater place. The space in it stretched, or maybe I was asleep, I was sure the walls were further away than normal. The mirror on my dresser reflected a light white-blueish square unto my wall. The make-up brushes stood like those wavy sea flowers. Aren't they called anemones? The chair with a pile of clothes on top of it looked like a huddled rock formation, and that made me think of my dreams. I try not to be, but I am reminded of my dreams almost constantly.

The thought of dreaming kept me awake. If I was awake. Can you be tired when sleeping? I'm not sure, but since I managed to tweet on my cellphone I'm going to assume I was indeed awake. And wondering: what if Dylan was right? What if my life is not going anywhere any more and I just don't know it yet? How would I know?

It is not the dreaming I fear most, it is the waking after.

[glmartincreation]