Another Car Dream

I had another car dream last night. The cars in my dreams are usually silver. They’re often sports cars, and frequently Porsches.

Last night’s dream was a little different.

I was in a boxy little car. Silver, it reminded of a Cube or Element, but it was neither of these. It had four wheel drive, flared fenders, and a powerful motor.

I was going down a hill to pick up my in-laws. They were waiting for me, along with their families. These were only living folks, and not the in-laws who’ve passed on.

The gang loaded into my car. Seatbelts were applied. Doors were closed. The car was started and a gear selected. One of my sisters-in-law said, “Thanks for picking us up. I really didn’t want to walk up this hill, but are you sure you’re going to be able to get back up that hill?”

I considered the hill. Covered with green grass, it was slick with rain, with mud visible in many places. Steep, as well, a ravine with a rushing stream cut through the middle. I agreed, it was gonna be a challenge.

But I was amazingly upbeat. With little thought, I threw the little car into a turn and went down the hill, developing a plan as I went. As said, “What are you doing,” I replied, “Trust me.” My plan was to go down lower to where it was flatter so that I could get a running start up the hill. My plan had a problem: it was much wetter and muddier down there.

I was undeterred.

Hitting the bottom of the hill, I threw the car into a wide curve. As it slewed around, I straightened it out, downshifted, and pushed the accelerator. Slipping and sliding with its engine revving against the tach’s red line, the car churned up the hill. Reaching the top, I slammed on the brakes with a grin.

Then the back doors, which were double, opened and I fell out. Landing on my ass, I looked around in surprise. An old friend (deceased) was standing there. He had a manual in his hand. He said, “I think this is what you’re looking for.”

I agreed with another grin. “Thanks.” The manual told me how to close and lock the doors so they wouldn’t fly open, and how to select a special gear to take me forward.

The dream ended.

Floofment

Floofment (floofinition) – Window sill, ledge, location, or casement where animals like to rest and watch the world.

In use: “Each new resident animal discovered the delights of settling on the back of Evan’s sofa in front of the living room bay window. It was the perfect floofment to watch squirrels, birds, people, and other animals going by.”

Friday’s Theme Music

Today’s song arrived in the stream last night when I was thinking about change. Deliberate and focused change for people is often hard for all the elements of comfort and routine that our habits incorporate. It’s easier to do as we’ve always do rather than embracing a new way. These change require time, mindfulness, discipline, and persistence to see them through.

Thinking along those line as I walked through the back yard introduced the song, “Tulsa Time” by Don Williams (1978). It’s a country and western song, not generally my milieu, but I’ve lived in places back that catered to country and western music tastes, heard it, and picked it up. Then Eric Clapton did a few live versions of it.

I was amused but reflecting on the song, I conclude that “Tulsa Time” was a metaphor for trying and failing to change.

Well, then I got to thinkin’
Man I’m really sinkin’
An I really had a flash this time
I had no business leavin’
An nobody would be grievin’
If I just went on back to Tulsa time.

h/t to MetroLyrics.com

See? You’re trying to change; no one else knows. Who cares if you go back to what you were doing and how you were doing it? It was your choice.

That’s right; you’re in the driver’s seat.

I enjoyed this live version discovered this morning. Hope you do, too.

 

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