field of dreams



There's nothing more awesome than seeing someone's dream coming true, right? 

Ever been to a wedding where everyone, all the friends, all the oldies, are jumping out of their skins with joy, everyone knowing this togetherness is particularly wonderful and are there to celebrate the stockings off it?

Ever held a tiny weeny baby that was so damn wanted, even more perhaps than most babies are wanted? One that has its parents in a cat's cradle of awed gratefulness and anticipation of new life?




In this house, we wish on dandelions. 

You see one, you catch it, you make a wish, you let it go.




Tilly found a yard full of them today and was beside herself to figure out what to wish for first.

"I wish. My love. Come true." I'm quoting precisely, for the historical record. 



I had a dream of a funny fella, and a family, and green grass and cooking and writing. 

And I found myself looking at a dandelion caught in my hand, and I was shocked to find myself wish-less. 

This is not always the case. I'll be honest: I woke up on Mother's Day morning wondering if it was dreadful thinking it'd be a celebratory mother's day away from my brood. Maybe somewhere with a big bed unoccupied by small people, with hours of undisturbed sleep. 

But ungratefulness can sometimes be washed down the plughole with aromatherapy bathwater.

I'm not minimizing real depression. I'm not saying everyone's bad days can be improved by cake and I'm totally cognizant that if you suffer real, dark depression it's really hard to 'think' your way out of it. Impossible, most likely. 




But assuming you are a cake-improves-everything kinda person, what do you wish for?

On dandelions brought to you in the hundreds, what would you hope for?




Whatever it is: I wish. Your love. Comes true.


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