Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Last night I dreamed I was in the 1800s at a large party for Harriet Beecher Stowe, who I was, apparently, obsessed with. To show my affection, I made her a cake, a spicy Stowe cake. I can't recall all the details but the event was some sort of conference where I really had no place being. I slipped up to Stowe, told her how wonderful I thought she was and that if she had time, I had made her a cake. It wasn't until the end of the night that she declared she wanted some cake, so I whisked up the stairs (in my ball gown complete with hoop skirt), cut her a generous slice of cake, and topped it with Devonshire cream. And then, with everyone watching, she took a heaping bite...and loved it. Naturally. Thus we were declared friends forever.
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2 comments:
I do not believe that this was a dream.
This is clearly your reality.
Haha, I was trying to figure out who Stowe might represent...my future literary self??? or that this is really just a scene I have lived in one of my past lives. The only thing I know for sure is I gotta make some Stowe Cake.
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