In the dream I lived in the basement of the White House and was the Santerian advisor. I was middle-aged, African American, wore a long white dress with a flannel plaid shirt of mostly blacks and greys turned into a jacket and a red tatted lace shawl and a dark grey scarf over my hair. I had a hearth with a fire going all the time and a big vase of summer flowers at my table. Otherwise I kept things pretty spare in case they had to sneak me out of DC in the middle of the night.  Obama was on his way to a diplomatic dinner and came down to ask my advice. I told him he looked spiffy in his tux and that Michele needed to wear a white dress with red flowers that night.  And the campaign thought they had problems with Reverend Wright, just wait until the press finds out there’s a priestess in the basement.

From an “almost 40 southern work at home mama,” in the summer of 2008.