Last night I dreamed that my chickens ran under my house. They were being chased by a neighbor's chicken. The underside of my house was more like a workshop than the crawl space it is. In my dream the space was lit. The openings were squares, not doors.
I am having thoughts of Baba Yaga...
I very rarely remember my dreams. Maybe the new pillow I made myself was the reason I did this time?
I wonder if I'll remember my dream tonight?
I wonder if I will get my pillow back from Hazel?
I made a pillow form with an old tank top, wool stuffing and wool batting that felted. Only the wool stuffing was "new," the rest reclaimed.
And then I made a pillow case out of raw silk that was dyed with the indigo I grew.
Sweet dreams!