Queen E and Me

Dreams are funny things, their origins and suddenness out of nowhere….

In a local large pavillion-style restaurant at lunch-hour in the summer, I bumped into Queen Elizabeth wandering a bit on her own with her cane (though her movements are always tightly limited and guarded in reality). She was looking at some nice stuff in a touristy section to one side of the great dark hall, and I offered to help her as she looked, me being a local denizen–handy and such.

She seemed attracted by a somewhat large artsy cushion which I held up for her to look at as she stood back to peruse. “That’s the one.” Something spoke to her that this was a nice memory of Edmo for herself or maybe as a gift for one of her family. I said I’d pay though she mentioned that wasn’t necessary, that there was some kind of available royal account.

The bill came to several hundreds of dollars! I used my Visa and quipped that, although I was middle class, buying this for her would give me pleasure because I knew she wanted it and the gift was clearly giving her pleasure. She asked me for my e-mail address (Is everyone on e-mail?) and said I would be contacted later by someone in her entourage.

Now why all this absurd fantasy? From what mysterious source/s? All I can think of is that one of my closest friends may be travelling in England and that is why I haven’t had answers to my e-mails in two-three weeks. Something else, too. As I went to pay for gas at a service station this week, I caught a glimpse of one of these magazine rags that has the loud headlines on its cover as I stood in line to pay. The typical, insensitive issue feature on the cover was about famous people, and which of them would die next! Queen Elizabeth was one of the people cited. (added later: yesterday a Christmas card arrived, which passed through my hands, with some kind of royal commemorative stamp somewhere on it. I have no conscious memory of seeing it.)

All of the above is about as close as I can get to identifying whence this out-of-character, presumptuous, unsolicited ‘wish-fulfillment’ originated. (I must add that I am neither a royalist, nor harbor any conscious desire to meet royalty, government figures, or celebrities of the day).
Ah, the gifts of self, when and where least expected, and how the subconscious mind fashions its own dream-stories.

(4:52 am, 12/12/13)


The frozen north morning continues with Argentinian blueberries for my breakfast cereal. Argentinian blueberries bought in an Edmonton Safeway (!) in a continuing December cold snap as unsanded streets send morning commuters sliding into each other. The city has clearly given up on its citizens’ safety in time for Christmas. Roads abandoned to nature and windrows.

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