Double Coyote (1789-1811)

I had a tortured night. Zeb slept on the couch because he’s still hacking up a lung. This meant I could spread out and enjoy the expansiveness … in my dreams. Naturally the boys saw an opening and I spent the night having tortured dreams of choking to death. Testy had me in a neck lock and I literally could not breathe.

My subconscious cleverly worked that into my dreamscape along with several of my other anxieties: I was at a party and 1) I worried about running out of food 2) I was alternately shirtless or pantsless and people were laughing at me and 3) Tabby made really greasy fritters and insisted that I eat all of them. To know Tabby is to understand the deep irony of this dream.

I woke up pinned between the two boys which is both my idea of heaven and hell. I was feeling claustrophobic because I have a queen sized bed and the three of us were collectively taking up only half of it. Both my arms were pinned down I found myself in a a Double Coyote situation, wherein I’d have to chew off my arms, coyote-stuck-in-a-trap style, to get away without waking them up. Despite my efforts they woke up and that’s why they are on the spin pole at 6:45 in the morning.

I remember when they were babies and I would do anything to not wake them up. These days I care a little less, especially if it is nighttime and I know they will nod back off. I’ll get right in there and mosh on them until they swat me away and roll over. I love kissing them in their sleep. They are so scrumptious sometimes I feel like I could just burst.

IMG_1678 More shit from the basement. It’s all good shit, by the way, and it can all be yours!

IMG_1679 Small jelly jars and extra lids. I tried my hand at canning but as much as I enjoy the process, I don’t like the results. Zeb found album at an estate sale that chronicled the life of a Depression era family. The last entry was how every single one of them died eating botulism infected canned beans, except one poor kid who thought they tasted funny. I always think of that when I suspiciously regard the canned peach jam in my cupboard. I’m afraid of it. FREE.


I bought these glass flasks when I was, what, 20? I’m not sure what I had in mind for them, probably some beaded stopper project. FREE.


Metal shoeboxes. FREE.


Wicker baskets with canvas liners. I’d like to get $2 each. Come on, you know you want them!


Fabric ties. I have no idea. FREE.


A pillow sham from the rental. I retired the set. FREE.

5 thoughts on “Double Coyote (1789-1811)

  1. I hope they were organic fritters at least.

    Coincidentally I had a dream with you in last night. We were trying to walk the dogs but Zeb had decided to turn your mini-van into a convertible and being the industrious chap that he is did the job himself.
    The car looked great but wouldn’t start (which according to Zeb is a common problem after conversion and should be considered a sign of a ‘job well done’)
    There was also a three legged horse we were trying to save from wolves and I had mice in the pantry.

    I would love metal shoeboxes and vases if nobody else takes them please.

  2. I like those vases. Those colors soothe me for some reason. It’s cute that your boys came in and slept with you. I always liked getting in bed with my mom. So cozy 🙂

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