Capricorn 12° (January 3)
I had the strangest dreams last night. It involved JD and his house and chickens and foxes. The chickens thing is maybe obvious because the LLB’s have chickens and we were talking about how they “put themselves away” at night unlike geese and ducks. In the dream there were several white chickens that I suppose I owned. There was some sort of issue, too, with the law and drugs being (planted) on me. And then there were three distinct foxes, two of which were snow white, and one of which was black. All of them were cute and incredibly fluffy. One feature of the dream was that I had somehow left chickens inside JD’s house, where I had also somehow managed to get the foxes locked in. So when he came to visit his house, and we interacted even though there was a real disease about doing so—reflecting reality—I wasn’t quite in a position to go into the house and free the chickens which I imagined were roosting in the basement—I wanted to open a bulkhead unnoticed and let them out. While I had no idea where the foxes were. The black one was, specifically, mine, while the white ones were a bit more wild cards. As I write this I realize they might have been ghost foxes because, when nobody but me was looking they ran past me and out the front door squeezing easily into a crack that ran down the center of it. As if they were ghosts. Which they weren’t not I suppose. But really who the hell knows. We had breakfast—they no longer do cooked version here which is too bad because it used to be wonderful—and got packed and ready to head to the train station. The train itself was a much better version of the one on which we traveled to Scotland. So that was a small merci. I got some work done but not a lot, but at least it didn’t feel endless.
We got back to Myddelton Square, dropped our bags and headed for dinner at Brother Marcus post train. I order a gin and tonic which I don’t normally drink, but my time with the LLB’s still lingers. The waiter is Italian. I speak to him in it. I must be drunker of this one g+t then I thought. The food is very snack and delicious. I want to live in London. I’m pretty tired of my life on the other side of the pond. I will need to move my series to another location. I’m going to talk to City Winery and see what I might effect. I will write to Mike there. I will end up writing him for sure. I need to get Ellie off the list.
I need to reassess also the whole Scapes conversation and decide on whether to jewelry or not to jewelry. I fear that having not done a Christmas show last year that we won’t ever do one but I am going to see where that energy goes in the coming months. The summer should really tell us what’s what. As book plans have changed I need to refocus energy and rework my schedule. Soon I will be able to focus this Blague back on its original ways and means. The house cleaning soon begins. I’m glad we will miss the winter in New England as it is just too much to bear. I am going to make this a most fruitful year on every level. I know I don’t need to worry. Because, as we often say: If you’re worrying you’re not working (and by that we mean functioning). I need to be something of a beacon now and make this time about health and healing.
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°, for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360 degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.
Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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