Queen Cynthia of House Grimalkin

Something awakened me unexpectedly this morning. (Probably a back hoe but that is an entire other story.) The memory of a dream pervaded all of my thoughts. So invasive the dream was that I could not even remember in which direction to stumble off to the bathroom. I stumbled around aimlessly possibly looking like a lost duck in a whirlwind to anyone that could have seen me. Not remembering where the bathroom was, I decided I would feed the cats instead. Oh yeah. Where is the cat food? Where are the cats? Who are the cats?




After finding the bathroom, the cats, the cat food, the coffee pot and the sofa, I decided to think about my dream. I dreamt I was “the” queen, “a” queen or “some” queen. I was one powerful queen too. I had all kinds of supernatural powers that I was inflicting on some of my staff that were not performing according to Hoyle. My staff would see me coming down my stairs and duck in the closest door just to avoid my wrath. (Not sure why I was so grumpy. Probably related to my car incident yesterday but again another story).



My most amazing trait, however, was that I designed my own extensive wardrobe. I was a clothing designer queen. I was off the hook with my mad skills! I had created some modern Elizabethan highly festooned ensembles. I must draw up some of these fading images before I quickly forget them all! You never know when I might need a royal frock, right? Right!