Messages from the Underworld

The morning's dream themes:

A baby girl I had forgotten I had, and left in the care of N for her first delicate months.

{You indeed have to take care of your newborn self}

 

A back yard apple tree bursting with ripe fruit. I was warned by the landlord that the last tenants hadn't picked the apples when they were ripe, so now, he claimed, they were wild and inedible. 

I tasted one on the sly: Ambrosia. 

{What we make up 

vs. 

what's true}