Da Count -Big Orange Splots

One of my favorite children's books, which I always enjoyed reading with my kids, was The Big Orange Splot by Daniel Manus Pinkwater. If you are not familiar with it, get thee to a library and check it out. It is wonderful. It;s about Mr. Plumbean, who lives on a neat street where all the houses are the same. One day a seagull flies over his house and spills a can of orange paint on Mr. Plumbean's roof. The neighbors are in an uproar because the neighborhood is no longer neat. they implore Mr. Plumbean to do something about this problem assuming he will conform to the old pattern. Instead he preserves the big orange splot and paints the rest of his house in wild colors and patterns. He also includes elephants, pretty girls, and steam shovels. When the neighbors express their outrage his defense is, "My house is me, and I am it. It looks like all of my dreams." One by one, Plumbean's neighbors begin to convert their houses into their own dreams as respect for creativity and individuality spreads. They discard the notion of a neat street and find community in the idea that, "Our street is us and we are it. It looks like all of our dreams."

Yesterday's craft project was to make a log cabin bank out of a Chinese take out box. One helper covered them all in brown paper for me. Another helper made a sample. We put out the boxes, a bunch of construction paper and markers, and some glue and scissors. I told the kids they could make their bank houses any way they wanted. I absolutely loved watching the different ideas they all had.


One fellow's dreams didn't consist so much of a house as a fortress. (And check out the hairstyle he sported for crazy hair day and mismatch day. Rock on!)

For some people, their dreams included trees, shutters, and pets they could indulge.

For some, the dreams include sliding boards that start at the roof. I hope he invites me to visit someday.

Just being allowed to work on your own dreams is a cause to smile.

And then there are a these girls who have dreams of books so they didn't make houses at all. One made a library, the other made her own Border's Store. They are girls after my own heart. Oh, and the newest Borders franchise owner has much more fun making funny faces when she is asked to smile and show what makes her happy about her house. Rock on, girlfriends!
When I planned this craft I have to admit, I only had vague notions of 50 little log cabins. Mind you I never require conformity in my craft projects. I just didn't imagine so many kids would go so far from the cabin idea and add so many other embellishments. When I began to see the fabulous divergence I got as excited as the kids. I just had to fan that flame. It reminded me of Pinkwater's book, which I had not thought of in a long time. It was a very good and timely reminder. So this week I am counting such a sublime chance to peek in the windows of many dream houses.

Now tell me how a house that is you and you are it would look if it looked like all of your dreams.

Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

Does anyone have any answers? What dreams do you have? What dreams have you deferred? What will it take to realize them? Tell me how good it feels to have a dream come to fruition.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Dreams

Long ice cream lines at Mayan temples.

$54 for melted ice cream cone towers when I want a milkshake.

Paco the cook is smarter than the boss.

Next lady doesn't know her flavors, bare hands scooping.

John Cleese takes my family hostage.

I remove my eyeball to get dirt off it.

John's impressed, gives cunnilungus.

Ok, I just know that last line woke you all up after you were scratching your heads wondering what the heck I was talking about. I very rarely have dreams I can remember in the morning but lately I have been having some seriously weird dreams. That whole mess up there is just a quick synopsis of 2 of the more bizarre ones. Sorry, I had nothing else for the 55 this week. Sometimes coming up with a thing to count is tough too. It's not because I am so ungrateful for good things in my life. It's because I want it to be something I can write about in a somewhat interesting way.

No I am not counting the bizarre nocturnal ramblings of my so obviously disturbed mind...I mean really...I have dreams about towers of ice cream cones that are too expensive and melt before I can eat them...then I have a sex dream about John Cleese??? What the hell is wrong with me??? Although I did wake up laughing after each of those absurd dreams....but I digress.

What I am counting is real dreams. I've been wanting to do a post about them for a long time. I've had something languishing in drafts for ages. I've had some real dreams languishing in draft for ages too. I think going to Texas alone gave me time to think about them. Seeing a dear friend marry the man of her dreams, knowing some of the dreams they share, meeting Seamus and seeing how he's making some of his dreams come true, seeing evidence of dreams come true for Signgurl when I got to meet her, hearing G-man say I made a dream come true for him, it all gave me pause.

Some of my dreams were buried alive and I was haunted by the way they scratched beneath their graves. Others were put on a shelf and carefully preserved. They need dusting off. Some new ones have been born and are crying to be fed. I've apologized for some dreams, neglected others, let a few die. I've been overjoyed to nurture a dream of two for others. I still have dreams. This week I'm counting my own dreams and trying to figure out how to give them life.

Invitation

If you are a dreamer, come in,

If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,

A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...

If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire

For we have some flax golden tales to spin.

Come in! Come in!

~Shel Silverstein