thinking too hard while i sleep

For the past few weeks, I've dreamt of the holler every single night. I may not necessarily recall the exact dream details (although I do have a knack for recounting my dreams, which sometimes tests Jay's patience with my incessant ramblings), but I do know that holler dreams pay me a visit regularly.

On Tuesday night, my dream was multi-faceted. It was somewhat shrouded in anxiety, probably because we've been discussing a lot lately when we might actually make it out there for our final move, which of course gets me incredibly giddy, not to mention makes me break out into full-blown planner craziness. Yes, I started planning our vegetable garden, fruit orchard, and bramble patch on paper (er, I mean Excel because my handwriting sucks balls and do you really think someone as anal-retentive as I am could make do with handwritten notes? pshaw).

I've started developing our future pasture renovation timeline.

I'm discovering which herbs are best inter-planted amongst my future annual vegetables for maximum disease/parasite/bug/fungus/whatever resistance and that will attract beneficial insects and butterflies.

I'm researching what hardy, perennial ground covers would do well for my future garden pathways.

I'm interested in learning more about hugelkultur, quick hoops versus greenhouses, and mob grazing. I haven't delved into bee keeping or forest gardening yet.

I study the aerial views of our property daily and think about how to make the lay of our land work best for all these projects that I think up.

Y'all, Mitsy McPlanner is quite the obsessive compulsive gal to be around these days.

Anyway, back to my dream:

We're at the cabin (Jay is always closeby in my dreams but not necessarily within view), but it's situated more on an east/west axis instead of the current north/south orientation and is slightly bigger. It's a sunny day.

Jay is in the driveway trying to pick something up off the ground when this very large tractor/heavy equipment type vehicle comes barreling up and brakes just in time to barely avoid hitting him. He greets the mail lady hello and continues to try to pick up the strange object.

There's a real estate agent showing someone the cabin interior, and I tell her that it's not for sale anymore because we bought it, and she responds that she just wants to show her client the woodwork (which isn't anything to write home about).

I'm now out behind the cabin, and there's a huge field that dips way down and up the mountain again - a big bowl of pasture of sorts. It's very pretty - the tall green grass seems to be sparkling and is swaying in the breeze - but I don't remember it being there before (our land only goes up the mountain from the cabin in real life).

I'm back inside and some person has left the kitchen sink running, and it is now overflowing. Anyone that knows me well can attest to my innate fear of overflowing toilets, sinks, and swimming pools. This fear plays a role in my dreams frequently. I still can't believe there's no name for this phobia - believe me I've looked.

The overflowing kitchen sink is red and shaped kinda like a heart and is surrounded with pretty glass countertops, which I think to myself is neat but can't look at any longer because I'm fleeing in fear.

Now out in front of the cabin, people are setting up a flea market of sorts to peddle their treasures. There are about five people with plastic tables littered with various knick knacks. I don't seem to mind this infringement on our privacy.

I look up the hill and someone has built a much bigger cabin and is waving from the front porch. On our land. Looking down on us. This infringement infuriates me!

THE END. Aren't dreams fucking weird?!