(Un)certainty

There are times when I am lulled into complacency. I watch Matilda playing with her friends and I think, well, this wouldn't be so bad. Missouri's all right. But then I listen to KOPN, to a show I don't usually catch, because it's on around seven in the evening and I see how wrong I am. KOPN is one of the best things about this town. It's not an NPR station, it's a local, community supported independent station that's been here for 38 years and plays Democracy Now, Radio Australia, and tons of other unusual or local stuff. In the evenings there tend to be local talk shows discussing legislation and news that affect the area. Last night I heard two things that reminded me where I live at the moment: 1. Missouri schools are required by law to teach abstinence only sex-ed; and 2. There's a bill in the state legislature that, if passed, would require doctors to tell women seeking an abortion that it would increase their chance of breast cancer, which is patently false.

We can't stay here.

But we don't know where we're going. Yet. Still no word on programs, but it should be any day now. I'll let you know. Promise.

Last night I dreamed that I had built this huge twisting tree house for the girls, but the platform at the top was very small. Freya and Matilda and I were up there together and seemed, for some reason, unable to get down. Things started to feel unstable. The walls/railings were thin, made of willow branches or something and tied together with flimsy ropes that pulled gently apart to leave huge gaps at the slighted touch.

I was afraid one of us would fall through. I twisted the ropes around my hands and tried to hold on to both of the girls - who seemed unconcerned - as they played and laughed: Matilda leaning against the trunk of the tree in a total teenager posture, clearly thinking my fear irrational, and Freya swinging from a branch in a wheelchair (no idea why that was up there). They didn't see the forty feet between us and the ground as much of a problem, but each time I tried to hold onto something there seemed to be less to hold on to.

Nothing bad happened. I woke up. I don't feel particularly spooked by the dream, but it doesn't take a brilliant shrink to see that I feel like things are a little out of control at the moment. Most of the time I keep this feeling (in my conscious mind, anyway) at bay with lists and carefully ranked priorities. Apparently my subconscious mind has yet to learn the value of lists.

Perhaps if I'd made a nice clear pro and con list before building such a flimsy tree house in the first place, things wouldn't have gotten so far out of hand. Perhaps if I knew where we were going so I could start on some lists, I wouldn't have had this dream.