DOC (Holliday) Available at Barnes & Noble

 Get DOC in hardcover

Gathering Gloom 10/3

   

  Hey, Gloomer, it's always a good time getting to see my favorite band, The Gathering Gloom, at The Mauch Chunk Opera House in Jim Thorpe. I didn't get to ride the train from Reading or stay at the haunted inn, maybe next year. I did get to dance all night and sing "Why Can't I Be You?" to the lead singer, Matt. I'll take it. Plus I got a new bumper sticker to go along with Ron Paul REVOLution, Arrest Fauci, and Hindrance and Perfidia. 

Locomotive Breath

Station Man

Frankie by Firelight & More DREAMS

  
 2/8

  Terribly sick again last night, so loads of dreams to report. I have to go through my notebook and figure out the four pages of purple scratchings. The first is the hardest, of course. We must have several dream sessions throughout the sleep pattern, three or four. The first dream is usually short, and they get longer. The first dream took place in Oakland, Mummy and Daddy were there. It involved a coffee maker and maybe a woman and a desert or dry creek bed that I’m trying to remember. My coffee maker was stolen, and Alex came. My hair was cut in a short bob, shorter and darker than high school, and I wore tight faded jeans. I confronted a man, a dream person, trying to cuss him out, but the words were stuck in my throat. Only a wheeze escaped. He called me something like a dumbass of a roarer. 

  It gets better. I was in Gettysburg with Mummy, Daddy, and Susan. What I remember first is driving around with Mummy and Daddy and looking for my inn, something like Longwood Inn, but there was some confusion that I’ll come back to. We passed it, a big cream with brown shutters and trim sprawling two storey, and another grand pink brick Georgian style, maybe the Kensington Arms, or something of the like. It was suburbia; then we came to town. I realized now that it was hot, June. We boarded a scenic railway. I was sitting next to Daddy, and Mummy sat across from me. Mummy and I were discussing some up and coming Poe movie that was soon to be released. Daddy was picking at the corner of a postcard with a white carousel horse that began to play an old ragtime music box tune, Beautiful Dreamer.  I told him that Longwood, the same man that the inn was associated with, had carved the Kennywood carousel horse and written the tune. He was very impressed. We were talking about the hotels, and I told him that at The Kensington Arms you had to share a bed with two other people. He said that was not good unless you were a pervert. He might’ve remained on the train, but Mummy and I met with Susan and went to a book shop where Mummy bought me three books: a little paperback, a magazine, and a slender coffee table sized hardback with a shiny dust jacket. The paperback was pale blue with a rough cardstock, felt like, cover. There was a simple portrait sketch of the actress in the Poe film done in magenta ink. The magazine also covered the same movie that we were all interested in. I later gave Mummy back the eighty dollars that she had spent in the book shop. Going back to my notebook, I see that while I was taking the cash for Mummy out of my little leather and tapestry zipped purse, I remembered that I already had a room at The Farnsworth House, The Eisenhower suite. Meanwhile Susan was talking about all of the money that she had spent at the dentist. I told her about my ten thousand dollar mouth. Mummy was surprised. When we got to The Farnsworth House, however, the clerk, a white man in a tan, short -sleeved shirt and brown pants, told me that my room was not booked. I told him to check under Ron’s name. I woke up at this point because Frankie was throwing up. As I was sick watching Aquarius last night the Mansons were dumpster diving for food. At the same time Sir Frankie Crisp was rummaging through the powder room trash. I usually keep that door shut from him, but I was sick. 

  Now I had gone up to bed at 7:30 am, and had the third epic dream. I need another cup of coffee, so glad to have kept the first down. I was in school, post grad, only in a small golden lit posh shopping mall. It began with me in a crowded locker room where I could not remember the lock combination for my little white locker. The numbers were marked in red, and I was surprised that the lock opened only I still did not have my schedule, (a computer print-out I could see in my mind’s eye that I was trying to remember, gray block computer numbers, only three or four classes, three, I think), or my books. The problem was that I had missed some classes. It was still early in the semester. Still, I went to my first class that took place in a top notch men's suit store: nothing but dark wood shelves holding dress pants, shirts, ties, and jackets. There was a long glossed wooden table where my class met. The professor was a young woman who said that she’d wanted the fancy green tea that I was drinking. We all had special teas in swank glassware: concoctions with ice and foam. She called me a gypsy, I could tell she liked me a lot. One of my old students, Westley, was in this class, at the table, with me. At one point we got up from our seats and were standing in the shop. I dropped my brown crochet light, long sweater on the floor. A light skinned black girl with ponytails had her yellow t shirt with a pink sunflower over her face, so that it looked like she wore a lion mask. I asked if she was a Leo, and she was. The professor was delighted and impressed. The shop owner, a faceless cardboard cutout dressed in a real good suit, with a name tag was talking to me. He also was impressed. Seemed the mall had been losing business, so they started sharing classes there. Nothing seemed that big of a deal at the time. After class Westley and I wandered the mall for something to eat. First I got onion rings, really good, big fried rings on a long rectangular cardboard  tray, but it didn’t stop there. Westley got some chicken, and we also had popcorn and maybe even pizza. I had a big bag of leftovers and offered them to a boy, but said that I would take some of the popcorn and pizza, I think, home. He tried to pay me, but his cash was fake paper napkins. Westley and I walked on. He was talking about his law degree, and I said that my friend, Rick, also had his law degree but was not practicing. I saw my old boyfriend Curt, again, only this time he was dressed in brown. He was young and tan and ducked back into a womens’ clothes store. Now a Prince cover was singing from behind some colorful kiddie play balls. There was a big Asian girl who showed me a Peter Pan themed amusement that they were in the process of removing. It had an unplugged neon sign and waterfall. I was sorry I had missed it. We ascended the aqua blue plastic waterfall. The water had been turned off. There were also some leftover Caspar items. She wound a little plastic toy up, and it spun round her hand. There was another Caspar themed plastic napkin ring? I took it. It was time for my next class, and I was hoping I got it right. It was in a bigger open shop that seemed to be for Asian imports and crafts. The class wore colorful paper animal masks and were speaking in German. I was totally lost. The instructor and students let me know that I was in the wrong class, and I was starting to get worried. I wondered what I was doing there. I told myself that I already had a master’s and teaching degree. Faux Prince was still singing when I reached up to take a plush pink flamingo that was in a furry pink ring shape. There were other animals like it hanging near the play balls in a sort of net set up. When I noticed a crowd watching me, I left it, and they were singing a ditty, making fun of me for not belonging at the mall, and trying to steal the flamingo prize when I woke up.

Dana's Dreams

Trains at Cornwall

All Aboard!

Christmas at Cornwall

Christmas at Cornwall Furnace

    It was another fabulous holiday starting at Cornwall Iron Furnace (1742). They have yummy homemade cookies, cocoa, and Christmas tea. Last year it was so warm that we walked about the town, but today was cold; and although Mummy's Ewok coat is warm, the Christmas pants Theresa sent me several years ago aren't. I'm just happy they still fit as I wash everything in hot water and put it in the dryer. I have to fit into my handmade green velvet from the seventies for the Shoenhut gig at The William Penn next week that I've only worn to see Loreena McKennitt, so looks like I'll be fasting this week. Didn't happen today, afterwards we went to The Bluebird Inn (1859). I had a Merry Cranberry house cocktail served in an ornament that was off the hook, and their chili puts Trooper Thorn's to shame: all so good. They crumble cornbread on top. I'm going to have to remember that. I got videos of the fabulous trains, but I'm having technical difficulties uploading them. I'll keep trying. My beautiful Christmas cactus is blooming too. Frankie was a very good boy and napped with me when we got back. 🎄

 

Christmas at Joanna Furnace 2024

Dreams 1/18

 Epic dreams come with snow. Three, and two are connected. First I dreamt of a beautiful Mandarin woman with short dark hair. She sat in a bright room in front of a mirror. She was getting her hair cut even shorter, shaved at the nape of her neck, for her daughter. She was getting angry as there was some discrepancy, and somebody was stealing her hair. 

Next, I dreamt that I had to stop by Ron's brother's house for something to do with school. Only, as usual, he was not Ron's brother, and it wasn't his house. I was in the cellar with another girl when David Pribish came in. He wore a Picasso looking raincoat. I wanted to go, then. But, there was some hub-bub with another brother, who looked much like an old student of mine, a musician named Jeremiah. He had to go in the back for some wine. He came back covered in red wine claiming the bottle had broken. Then, he intentionally rubbed the sticky mess all over me by giving me a big sloppy hug. I was furious and went to wash it off. 

Finally, and this is the best part of the trip, the part I really like, I was back in Pittsburgh in Mummy's kitchen. I received a colorful yellow Victorian collage postcard from my friend, Amber, inviting me to a tea party. The party was downtown, and I parked my car. The spot was amazing, a very old, sprawling one-story building full of bric-a-brac and dark wood. It had an open floor plan and was wonderfully crammed full of Victoriana of all sorts. The walls were all painted differently with murals of all kinds. Amber worked here. I was sitting down at a round table covered in a pale blue cloth talking to her when she presented me a box with a raised plastic crystalline cameo sort of lid, also, pale blue. Inside were all sorts of little antique goodies: a rusted little angel with a bit of a crack afixed to a paper scrap, little pins, and other things, a personal party favor. I was delighted. I told Amber about having been molested with the wine earlier. The place was full of guests, some in Victorian garb. We moved to the front of the building. There was intricately carved wainscotting of flowering vines in dark wood and a marvelous mural of a palm tree with a gold backdrop. I asked Amber if it had ever been a travel agency, and she assured me, it had. I was wondering what it was before that. A brothel, maybe? Then, I saw my old friend, Rene, only she was different, younger. Also, there was a buff colored shaggy dog that I knew. I explained to Amber that I used to work with Rene, so was real surpised and excited to see her and the dog again. Rene told me the Job Corps had closed, and she and the dog came here. She said she didn't miss the Job Corps because it was a mess. I moved on to a side corridor with a fabulous hedgerow topiary mural. There were white flowers and birds in the hedges with a yellow background. There were two twin beds, and my dear friend, Becky Dowling, was lounging on one with a red and gold brocade spread. She said she lived there. A man was asking if he could buy some pussy, I told him he might get the other half, here, and he laughed. It was now time to grab our favor boxes and go. Amber had already gone. There was a blonde in a blue and white cotton Victorian dress like something you'd wear on a holiday to the beach and a little pillbox hat with a red bow. She carried a big cotton stuffed red and white striped stick with a blue print of a woman's face at the top, sort of like a Gibson Girl. She was ordering everybody out. I went to get my box, but it was different with a round ceramic little painting of a pastoral scene with little people, and the contents were not the same, maybe better; but, I couldn't find my car keys which I had left in my box. I was looking through other boxes of bitty things like little pins, all tempting, but I wanted my keys and noticed a blonde slide my box beneath a coverlet on a sofa. I grabbed it and her arm. She was very upset, and said she had switched our boxes, as she wanted mine. I opened the box: still, no keys. I let her go and take the box with her. I still had the round one. By now the woman with the rag stuffed stick and another were trying to bully me out. I was to the point of tears, screaming about my keys, grabbed her stupid soft stick, and was beating her with it when I forced myself awake. 

Destination New Hope

Lucky my brother came for a visit this weekend, we always have a good time. I made my best mushroom a'pizza yet. This time we took the New Hope train. I was first in New Hope when I was in high-school, I wanted to live there. I could never afford it. Third time is a charm, and I got my first souvenir: a Dutch rabbit puppet I bought at the train station, I call, Hopeless. Since the parking lot was so jammed we missed the first train and had to lay over at Mike Kelly's Irish Pub, a two-hundred-and-seven-year-old house with a clawsome bartender. That was fun. The train ride was beautiful, but the parking was an outrageous scam: (Planet Scam). They don't let you know until you're on your way out that it's twenty bucks an hour to park at the station. The sickest part of that is that I didn't see Fuckerberg, Michael Oogie Booger, Killary, or that Ga-Ga Guy anywhere, it was families taking the expensive train rides. And, the train was nice, but nothing like the posh Colebrook in Boyerstown with free parking and a much bigger lot. Anyways, got home and watched Dracula: Dead & Loving It before falling asleep to Elvira Mistress of the Dark. Good times. 

New Hope Get-away

 

Station Man

Dreams 9/14

 So many dreams today, and they all started with me dropping a raw egg on to the kitchen floor.

 Next, I was riding a train at night with Ron and Tim. Ron and I were sitting facing the window. I made a pan of brownies in a toaster oven I had, there, then ate them all. Worst part was I'd take a bite, set my brownie down on the floor, pick it up again, and eat it. 

Then, I was on a sort of interview with two men. The one was gray with glasses. I was discussing how I'd gotten a little autographed poetry book. I think it was Alan Ginsberg, but can't be sure. The book was a small green hardback. 

By the fourth dream I was in a big house with my brother. Felix, my Betta fish, was there. We were playing with him in a sort of doll house. He had water, but not a lot. I took him and put him back in his tank. We had an entire row of fishtanks, all types and sizes. They were out on the ledge of a long open aired veranda facing a lake. Glenn had added a little hexangular one on the end that had schools of tiny ghost looking minnows. They looked like ghost shrimp or glass. 

Finally, Shiner was the star. He was wagging his tail, which was longer, and very happy. He was at the foot of the kitchen steps. 

Easter 2023

                                                        Easter 2023

Dreams 1/21

Dreamt of my grade school best friend only we were adults, in college. The dream took place in what seemed to be an old train station. I think it was Christmas break, and my girlfriend had already left for home with another friend. There was some mix-up with my luggage. I was looking for it. The place was expansive, old-fashioned, and full of rich dark wood. I was walking across wooden beams. There was a teacher, he was very tall and good-looking with dark hair. I remember being in a very enclosed, dark little restroom with green accents, much like a commode on a train. When I got out some plump woman with dark hair was there. 

Ghost Stories XI

 

Ghosts XI

I was going to entitle this chapter, Second Hand Ghosts, as I thought I was out of my own ghost stories, that is, until last night. First the doors upstairs were opening and closing...They are old doors, complete with skeleton keys, and the window was open, so I ignored them...thinking, just the wind...Although, I knew better. I told Ron, "It's the ghost.", when he asked me about it. Then I went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was after midnight. A hard rap, rap, rap...at least fourteen raps...a really loud banging, came at the laundry room door. I jumped and squealed and ran, I was so startled. My heart was pounding. There was nobody there. I would have seen them from the window. The moon was bright. I would have heard them running, as I can hear someone walking past the house. Shiner, the puppy, was scared, he didn't even bark. Ron went running outside, looking all around, up and down the road, but we couldn't see anybody...Nobody is that fast; you can see quite far down the road. Later there was a big bang. I went to check it out. The mirror on the bathroom wall fell down. The funny thing about that is that it did not break, although it hit the hard bathroom floor, nor did it break anything in it's path.

Now, I'm quite curious. Shortly after I moved here, about this time, last year, I was in the bathroom late one night. I heard a woman screaming bloody murder, then a crash. I thought it was an accident. I looked out the window, but couldn't see anything. I never heard an ambulance or a police car. Later I heard that a couple of years ago a man had pushed a woman and her child into an incoming train, just across the street. They were, of course, both killed. I am going to have to find out when that happened, to see if perhaps these wyrd occurrences are related to that tragedy. Sometimes I see the woman's relatives when I am out walking. They leave toys for the child by the tracks. It is sad.

So, I'll make the next chapter Second Hand Ghosts, maybe.