Easter Eggs

The Easter Betta

The Silver Lining

Cupid's New Digs

A New Home for Lennox

Frankie the Mongoose

Four Hours of Serene Harmonies: Your Escape to Calm

Sir Frankie Crisp and my fish find this music as charming as I do. The artwork is lovely too. It reminds me of Tangerine Dream.

Sir Frankie & the Shits

The Dream Hog

3/23

  This epic night of nightmares might be attributed to Blue Marsh’s sumptuous mushroom soup. The dreaming  began with Mummy and I in a cottage. I went outside to a glorious English garden with tall red flowers. There were two dogs, buff and white Springer Spaniels, mating, but not like dogs; they were holding on to each other like people, face to face. There was an older fellow standing there, watching. I walked around to the back, and there were two dead dogs rotting in the tall grass. One looked like a big Doberman Pinscher. Then I saw Shiner, to the right, he was dying. I ran back to the cottage to tell Mummy. 

  The next dream was worse. I was in a pet store with a girl. Julius, my Betta fish, was in a glass fishbowl only he was big, big as an Axolotl. I was baby talking him when I picked him up and kissed him. We were in a small part of the shop hidden behind heavy velvet patterned drapes. Three college aged boys came in and started harassing me. One was very fat and bald. He was wearing a green sweatshirt and white bermuda shorts. I kicked him in the groin which did not seem to matter, so I said he must be very small. Now the other who looked like somebody out of Happy Days with golden curls, wearing a blue letterman jacket, and his mate were after me. I ran and forced myself awake. 

  The third dream wasn’t much better. I was in the garage at home in Clover Crest readying my car, Little Pearl, for a Gettysburg trip. I removed a blue glass water bong from up behind the pedals and placed it on a metal shelving unit to the left. Mummy and my brother were both there. Halfway there, maybe at a rest stop or visitor’s center, not sure, I had to stop in a  crammed garage for a checkpoint. I was doing something in my car then came out around the trunk where I placed my items that had to be checked, maybe five of them, including my gold and cream fabric money pouch and a plastic bag with what looked like pink cotton candy or raw wool that was actually drowning floss. I knew if you had the stuff in your mouth while swimming you could not drown. A blonde woman was checking my things and told me that was smart as somebody had drowned last year  when a man wearing a beige and brown uniform passed by. I thought he was a cop. The woman asked if “that nice young man took your money lesson”, referring to my money pouch. I said, “I don’t know, did he?” She nodded. I ran after him but he had already left around a corner. Very distressed, I woke myself up again. 

  Here comes the big one, it’s really rather ridiculous, I think, that I should have to dream for the entire planet of nondreamers. If Frankie is a dream eater, then I must be a dream hog. I’ll probably have to make more coffee just to get through; and I’m using my big birthday owl mug that Theresa had sent. This one took place at Chatham College that was very different from when I had gone there, much bigger, more modern. Daddy had taken me to school and was resting in an old dark wood stained twin bed waiting for me to finish classes; I had three. It must’ve been late afternoon. I was sitting at the foot of his bed talking to him when I put the headboards, about the size of cutting boards, into my bag. Afterwards I was with a group of women in a cafeteria that was dimly lit and looked more like an auction or mess hall. I was going through my heavy bag with books and headboards looking for some snacks in a plastic bag when a very strange fellow with a brown tweed cap and granny glasses sat down next to me and asked, “Do you drink?” I did not know how to answer when he told me that he thought that I drank because as was very loud as he. I told him it was because I used to be a teacher and picked up talking louder. He left as I pretty much told him to bugger off. The women were saying how creepy he was. When we got up the women noticed how heavy my bag was and how I was straining. They took me to a little stall that was bustling with students. They handed me a heavy gray wool drawstring duffle bag with a letter on it, C, I think. One of the women told me that a boy had bought it for me. The clerk handed me a wad of cash. I told him that I did not pay for it and asked who had. He told me that he was Asian. I looked around, and there were no Asians present, so I put the money in my wallet and went to class. My first class was in a crowded library, and I was not much worried about it although my book was a different edition than the other students at the table. Mine was a big green paperback with a white printed cover, but the others were purple. My female professor did not seem to mind. I was concerned, however, with my next class. I had only been there once. I didn’t even know what it was about. After that I was in a crowded lobby where there were rumors swirling about the two boys who had bought my bag. They were saying that they were big time, and drove sportscars. Their names were Lee and Chris. I was seated outside the classroom on a small set of bleachers with some other girls. One had long blonde hair and wore a skirt. She told me that she was thoroughly confused about the course as classes were always cancelled. She took three slim green hardbacks from her bag and showed me. They concerned Arthuriana, one had a Druidess on the cover and all had bare gnarly old trees. It appeared to be a history class. I began to feel relieved. I told I had read Le Morte d’Arthur and that she would like it. Then I second guessed myself, telling her it was full of superfluous things. Then something truly strange happened to a student in the class. It seemed he had been dropped in liquid nitrogen. The girl, his girlfriend, I think, and I were crying. I told her that he did not look like he had been dipped in liquid nitrogen. He had shrunk and was naked in a fetal position. He had a nice eighties style head of hair like Kevin Bacon. He was not freezer burnt. Lee, the Asian, joined us, and I returned his money. He insisted the boy be taken to the morgue, and the girl left with him. Later I ran into Chris, the other boy, he was a ginger. He asked about his money, and I told him that I had returned it to Lee and explained the entire incident. I was thinking that I could not fit inside of Lee’s borrowed sportscar, maybe. He was miffed at me to say the least, and I could not say that I blamed him. I was thinking that it was time to go when I came across a dark dollhouse, maybe six feet tall, in its own little alcove, that opened in two places. It was on a lazy susan, so could be turned about. I knew a girl from high school, Jennifer Davidson, had made it. It was lit. I noticed a lot of my dolls were there: Red Witch, Little Ron, my Victorian Nesbit’s, the Darlings, my wooden Santa, a nutcracker, and others. I took them all, looking, and crammed them in the top of my bag that had now changed into a supple pink messenger with many different zippered compartments. The headboards were gone. I was thinking that Daddy must be waiting for me by now, for sure. I was lost. A woman with old-fashioned upswept hair, wearing a pink ruffled blouse and long russet skirt, exited a set of glass doors on a concrete patio outside and offered me a bit of hard candy. I told her, “No thank you”, and asked the way to the parking lot. She told me that it was “downstairs through the lounge”. On the stairs were the same women from the cafeteria. I asked them if Chatham was a university now. I thought that it was from LinkedIn. They told me no, and laughed. They said that it was the online schools trying to make-out that they were real. I laughed too and thought so. The lounge was very busy. There were huge bins of DVDs for sale. Some girls were talking about a young man who had died and gave his age when I woke up and wrote down as many details as I could remember. I think a second dream notebook is nearly filled now.  

Dana's Dreams

Dana's Dreams Two

Three Witches Magic Shoppe Adventures in Doll Land

 

   

Jersey Boys Broadway Full Show

Happy to watch although none of these jokers can compete. Maybe the movie will be better, doubt it. 

Frankie wants my Birthday Presents

Dreams 3/21

 

  3/21

  My first dream is fuzzy because the second was like an epic film, but I’ll do my best to remember based on my notes. It started in the bathroom, here. I looked out the window and saw my friend Matt was standing in the yard. My brother was here, he was just a boy, maybe seven years old. It was Halloween, and Matt was holding up an eight by ten unframed watercolor. The painting was mostly done in blues and yellow. It depicted Druids, maybe three, and glowing standing stones all within a grove of pines. I don’t remember why I was cussing him out, but I was, and he just sort of melted into the painting. 

  Now for the epic starring a young Kirsten Dunst, in her early twenties, Ron, and me. I’d guess that Ron and I were in our early thirties. It took place in England, in a castle, fifteenth century, would be my guess. Kirsten was our young queen with long curly golden hair. She wore a small headpiece and a long, beautiful, form fitting, deep green, velvet gown. There were several ladies in waiting within the court besides myself. One was a young light skinned black woman dressed in pink velvet and white chiffon. Kirsten put on the huge, long, pink, braided wig that looked ridiculous. What’s more, she made us all wear wigs and headpieces that looked a lot like silk diapers. The black girl took the mandate the worst and felt humiliated. There was a brunette dressed in yellow and green with big hair separated in half with wispy bangs framing her face. She wore a lot of makeup, eyeliner, and lipstick. She pretended that she looked good, anything to appease the queen. There was a rumor of incest spreading around about the queen. Her tall, slender, young king was very animated and alarmed. He had shoulder length gray curls beneath his gold crown, and wore mail with gray tights. Behind a red tapestry, Ron was very angry with me. He yanked me by the arm and threatened me with a snarl. He wanted to strike me. His head was shaved, he looked terribly handsome, but I decided at that moment that I did not like him at all and would thwart his every action like a hidden viper. I did not say a word. Now I was gathered with the ladies in a fabulous room, dark, wooden, and round. There were glass cases lining the walls with miniatures. Military miniatures crammed the shelves within the right hand wall. In the center of the room was an open case. There were a lot of miniature porcelain people depicting the royal family through the ages. They were only a couple of inches tall and painted rather simply, that is they had black spotted eyes and red lips, and some of them wore blue jackets or gold gowns, but they were not painted very intricately considering that each sculpt was different and fine. They also were not glazed. Some of them were seated, they were all different, and I’d say at least thirty of them sat in the burgundy velvet lined case. What’s more, each had a little wooden dog, all sorts of breeds, hand carved. I pocketed one of the little dogs which I hid in a drawer of a wardrobe amongst some white and pink silk undergarments. It was a good thing too, because of the rumor about the queen the king had the entire lot of them burned in an enormous fireplace. This was a very different sort of dream for me. Like the ancient Greek dream I had on the 13th, it was very realistic and makes me wonder about past lives. 

Dana's Dreams

Dana's Dreams Two

  

 

No One and Nothing Will Affect You Again - Carl Jung

Menage a Frog

Dreams 3/20

   3/20

  Hadn’t dreamed the last couple of nights as Sir Frankie Crisp slept like a dragon curled up on my chest; he eats my dreams. I had to go to bed early with the dolls last night, I was so dizzy and snotty. I dreamed and dreamed. Too bad I left such a mess from supper and decorating for Easter last night that it has taken too long to get to my dreams even if I’m drinking stale coffee. I’ll do my best to decipher my night scribbles. The main problem is that it was so dark that I wrote the first two dreams on top of one another. 

  In the first dream I worked for Trump. He was either my teacher or I was his intern. I think it was more like he was my college professor, and I was his teaching assistant. Anyway, we had these huge projects in plastic binders due. Mine was in a white plastic binder with his picture and some cut out magazine letters like a ransom note enclosed in plastic on the cover. It was bursting with papers, probably four inches thick. We were talking, and he was stacking up the student projects. He lost mine. He was acting like it was no big deal, but I ended up having to do it all over again, starting from scratch. As I finished it I was thinking that it was better than ever. 

  In the second dream I was with a queer in a theater all night. I think we were working on something together. He was talking about something that smelled “unmentionable”. We had left the theater and came to a huge escalator, I didn’t want to go up. I boarded a bus with a tour guide. To my right were a row of old abandoned stone houses with broken windows. The guide was talking about them. 

  In the third dream I think I was at a doll club meeting in a hotel in England; but I’m not sure, I’m going off of my notes here. Maybe I took the bus there. Michael Canadas was there. There were also a lot of older women. I was talking about meeting up with Mummy later, although I knew that I was lying because she was dead. 

  Are you ready for the final dream? It’s a real lulu. It is also fresh enough in my head that I’ve got a fresh cup of coffee, so let’s go. It began with my best friend Theresa and my ex, Paul, taking a bus to The University of Pittsburgh. Theresa wore a yellow top. We had some work to get done: typing. When we arrived Paul said he wanted breakfast. Theresa and I sat across from him at a small table while he pounded a huge breakfast that was spilling over his beige plastic cafeteria tray. I had a hash brown and something else small like a cookie or a grape that he gave me. Then we were in a big room that looked like an old typing classroom filled with green typewriters not computers. I got nothing done. Why? My single sheet of paper was very thin and translucent, more like onion skin than vellum. I had typed it single spaced, front and back, horizontally not vertically. Theresa said that she only got ten pages done. At this point we left the typing room and lost Paul. Theresa and I returned to the cafeteria where we sat at a little round table covered with a white linen tablecloth. Danielle had joined us. Theresa said that she was hungry, and I wondered why she hadn’t eaten breakfast. She asked Danielle to get something to eat with her, and Danielle agreed, only saying that Theresa was going to have to pay this time as she was sick of always picking up the check. Theresa did not eat with Danielle. I had gone down a huge seventies style wooden staircase with gigantic windows and trees all around and ran into Susan, my other best friend. She wore a long t-shirt that looked a lot like one of those Frankie Goes to Hollywood RELAX prints that were popular in junior high with black bermuda shorts and sandals. Her hair was pulled back. We hooked back up with Theresa, and there was another stainless steel cafeteria style line with coffee pots and a plate of giant snickerdoodle cookies as big as pancakes covered with plastic wrap. I asked Theresa if she wanted a cookie. She said no, that they weren’t “cheesy”. I was trying to ignore the fact that she seemed to be acting up. A girl from the typing room had given me a small cardboard box with a white piece of paper on the side with red cursive script. It was filled with lines of little printed boxes, maybe two by two inches. The girl said that she did not know what they were. She called them something like little shrunken or burnt bits. I opened one of the little boxes, top one on the right.They looked like boxes of jax. It was full of beautiful iridescent insects, beetles, and other things, made out of plastic or metal, not sure. There were nine boxes, in total, three rows of three. I knew that the three on the left were all bugs, but the other two rows were still mysteries to me. I was thinking the three of us could share them, picking a box, one at a time, and that might cheer Theresa up as she was getting cantankerous when I woke up.

Dana's Dreams

Dana's Dreams Two

The Three Witches Magic Shoppe Adventures in Doll Land

The Easter Kitty

Frankie & the Frogs

Bettas, Books, & Tarot

TAROT & DARK SHADOWS Easter Sale

 

DARK SHADOWS Paper Dolls Book

Captivating Tarot

Minie' Ball Trading Cards

DARK SHADOWS Art Cards

Coupon Code: EASTER2025

Sinead O`Connor - Arsenio Hall 1991

Danny Boy - Sinéad O'Connor, 1993

Sinéad O’Connor - I Am Stretched On Your Grave (1989) *A Capella*

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

  From the ever so naughty Sir Frankie Crisp. Some of you already know that his new things are reaching down inside of the toaster and leaping up and down from the top of the refrigerator. We saw a Manx at a petstore yesterday who was not for sale. He was the store cat. He looked like Frankie only bigger. He was just as lovable. The clerk said that he was everybodies' favorite cat. 

🍀Sinead🍀

 

Station Man

Really, Frankie!

  Frankie says, I'm just getting comfortable, witch, chill. You've got some serious anger issues. Dad is right.✨

 

Frankie Rummaging through the Cupboards

  Frankie is doing his damnest to drive me cra cra. I have spent the last couple of hours running after him. He might've broken the filter on my cylindrical tank, not sure. I took it out and cleaned it, hopefully it was just clogged, but I wouldn't put it past him. I might have to replace that later today. I'm always at the pet store anymore. Thanks a lot, Frankie. 

 

Dreams of Ancient Greece

  3/13

  I was fortunate to spend the evening in ancient Greece. My dreams began in an extensive cave system. The walls were smooth and white with little nooks. I was with a woman with long curly red locks and some others. We were eating half loaves of sweet yellow bread and waiting to meet with some man of importance. 

  Next I was visiting with a friend in her lavish villa by the sea. There were other lady visitors besides me, at least two or three. The furnishings like the chaise lounge and the walls were the same gleaming Bath stone as before, but now there were windows with long pink drapes that moved in the breeze. Our host had curly black hair and was very friendly and cheerful. She wore soft blue and white silk chiffon. She dressed us all, sharing her clothes. I wore a deep blue lace chiton with a ruby brooch at the center front holding it in place. The ruby was cut with a spray of silver behind as if it was a bud popping out from a spray of leaves. It was twice the size of a cameo. I also had a pink and blue lace diadem with another matching ruby third eye center and seed pearls dangling all around. The shoes were marvelous things, velvet clogs with pointed toes completely covered with patterns of gleaming gems. One pair that none of us wore were green with huge crimson rubies. My rubies were pink. Our generous host was pulling them all out from the bottom of her closet. Some were pink, others blue. There was perfume too that we rubbed on our wrists. In the corner to the right of the room was a shelving unit that looked like something straight out of Bedrock. There were different colored smooth stones, sort of egg shaped but longer, like elongated goose eggs, some bigger than others. There were red, pink, turquoise, blue, and green ones, and these were makeup that we applied to our eyes as shadow, cheeks as rogue, and lipsticks, but more. They were also drugs like opium that entered our bloodstream after rubbing into pulse points. There were a couple of fluffy little dogs, white and tan, who wore lavish beaded vests on their backs too. I was in love with Orpheus who wore a big white mask, twice as big as his face and had a matching smaller mask, face sized, as a glove or puppet on his hand. Otherwise we wore a beige chiton and nothing else. He was silent. We touched faces very lovingly, but he was gay, and I was devastated, hopelessly in love. This dream was so realistic I thought it was lucid all along. It couldn’t have been.

Dana's Dreams Three pg 13

Dana's Dreams Two

Dana's Dreams 

Let Me Rearrange That Too

  Frankie is relentless. My shakers I got in Hawaii when I was nine are now top shelf in the hall closet. Here he is in one of his many favorite spots, on the baker's rack. I'm working on rearranging that too. Other favorite places for Frankie to raid are behind the microwave, in the kitchen cupboards, (he's there right now), in the dishwasher, in the dryer, on the rooftops of my dollhouses that he can no longer check in to, and of course on top of my aquariums. Oh, look, he's terrorizing Cupid right now.

   Zsu Zse sold in twenty minutes along with most of the other dolls that I have listed and blogged about lately. I have some major Doll Magic going on just now. I wish I was not so looking forward to my Gettysburg trip. I don't like any kind of anticipation or expectations. That only leads to disapointment; I prefer to wing it. 

  When I took my little frog back to the pet store today in exchange for some Betta treats that Frankie had dumped all over the floor I saw a couple of gorgeous platinum Bettas and a marvelous baby blue twin tail half moon. I always see Bettas that I want when I have not got the room for them. Oh, hex. Anyway, TTYL, Ron is home and I've got to finish his supper. He 💖 Frankie. 

 

Oh, Frankie!

No Wonder

  No wonder Merlin died, he was terrorized. Sir Frankie Crisp might've had me up at four this morning insistent on snuggabe, but he is a relentless terror, no doubt. 

 

Helen Kish's Special Zsu Zse Barbary Coast

  Specially dressed for a doll shop tea in Texas, Zsu Zse is part of Riley's World. I had planned on dressing her as a Native American. My dolls are selling which means that Purple Witch and I are going to have great fun in Gettysburg. Thank You! 

Get Zsu Zse on Ebay

 

Life is a Game

Funny Dreams!

   3/11

  My first dream took place at a posh resort in the south seas. There were some familiar faces: Krisi, my ex-sister-in-law, my dear friend Adinda, Ron, and Shiner. Shiner got a bath. Adinda, Ron, and I were seated around a round covered table eating a sumptuous dinner and dessert. Adinda had her hair pulled back and wore a slinky beige gown. We were eating a creamy caramel pie for dessert. I was feeling guilty that I had eaten it all. Adinda had a doggie bag, a brown paper bag rolled up like a school lunch. 

  The next dream is really something else. It began in a stone castle where Mummy lived downstairs from me in a turret. There was a trick door around the outside and down three long stone steps where I could pop in and visit. She seemed happy. My brother was around too. Then I moved down a long hallway like you’d find in a hotel, not a castle, with a friendly Bigfoot with a gripe. He had a little purple felt pennant tag behind his ear that he showed me. It had something printed on it in yellow and white with one or two red words, but I don’t know what. Maybe somebody had tagged him. I left the building alone and was walking up a suburban neighborhood street when I came to a farm blocked by a primitive wooden fence. My friend Matt was there, beyond the fence, coming up the dirt road towards me, he was stark naked. I ran back down the wet suburban asphalt road away from him on all fours like a cat. It was tricky at first, but once I picked up some speed I was gone.

Dana's Dreams Three, pg 11

Dana's Dreams

Dana's Dreams Two

Top 10 Breathtaking Plants on Earth

Led Zeppelin - In My Time of Dying - 1975 Earls Court

  Always my fav Zeppelin. No fucks for anybody that says it takes four dudes to match the unmatchable magical Jimmy Page. ✨💖✨

Welcome Tristan & Isolde

A Tale of Two Forest Rats

Sidhe: Original for Sale (Yeats, St. Patrick, Irish, Faery)

Buy Original on Ebay

 

George Harrison - All Things Must Pass (Full Album) (1970)

Dedicated with love and admiration as Dana's Dreams Three will be to Kari Melissa Johns. 🥀😭🥀

Ghosts of Fat Tuesday

     I never realized the ghosts in this picture with Shiner and me until now talking to my aunt. Ron says it is just a reflection, me stuffing my face, but it is so much more than that. It made it to my Ghost Stories. That place was so haunted. A guy killed a car load of women and children right outside my door. I heard it all years later, and did not even know what happened until "talking" with one of mycommiespace friends who happened to be Johnny Gruelle's, (yes, Raggedy Anne), grandson. He had gone to school with one of the women who was killed. Here, is what happened: the estranged father of one of the toddlers followed the woman and her girlfriend with her child from the Sinking Spring MacDonald's. When they got to the railroad tracks he screamed, "Where are you going to go now, bitch?", and rammed them into the incoming train, four deaths: two women, two toddlers. It's all documented in my Ghost Stories. The diagonal lines behind me are another sign. Oh, my ghoul... TTYL... Drunk, it's Mardi Gras, Yall! 💖

Read my Ghost Stories

LIVE: Krewe of Zulu parades through New Orleans on Mardi Gras Day

New Bon Temps Roulet

Dana's Dreams Two

  Now available as an e-book, soon to be released in all formats, Dana's Dreams Two picks up where Dana's Dreams left off. No worries, I suspect Dana's Dreams Three will happen. 

Read Dana's Dreams Two
 

Give Ron Paul The Medal of Honor

Sign the petition to give Ron Paul The Medal of Honor. The Kid Smeller gave it to Sorositis and Killary. 🤮 Sign the Petition

Brando & Elvis were Native American

   Beginning to get more than a little pissy about the fact that I'm claiming Brando and Elvis way more Native American than Fauxcohontas, Yall. 😠 Alright, this picture was in the restroom of Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza, and Ron is trying to claim him as a guinea. Not happening. Spare me, "hillbillies" from Ohio. 💕💖💕 Who else had more than his fair share of Indian? Jimi Hendrix! 🌈💗🌈

Sir Frankie Crisp's Playlist

Dolls & Magic March Clearance

  While I'm on a roll, (Thank You!), and saving for Gettysburg I've spent the last hour going through and slashing prices in my Ebay shop. You'll find mostly handmade, one-of-a-kind art dolls and original watercolor paintings, but there are also dolls and books from my collection, you never know. Will I be listing more stuff? Maybe. I've been typing Minie' Ball Catch All, I've made it to page sixty-six already. We had Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza today. It's good, but like everything else very exspensive. I've got to start a playlist for Frankie. It's hard to believe we've only had him five months. He came into our lives and took over. He's sleeping by my feet. He's very touchy feely, I'm not. I had made a playlist for Shiner on his last birthday, all of his favorite songs. TTYL... 

Shop Clearance on Ebay (Thanks!)

Shiner's Songs

 

Eaten By The Monster Of Love

This one is for Frankie. 😹