A Lost Cat & Planting Trees Dreams

The first dream found me in a hotel. My wife was with me in one of those sprawling single-story hotels, where we had a suite. We were watching a friend’s cat for him while he was away. Gray and white, the cat’s name was Naruba. It was a friendly and relaxed animal. He wanted out of the room. I let him out. He disappeared from sight.

Now I was worried; I had to find him. I searched and searched but it was fruitless. By the time my friend returned, I’d given up. But, just as I was about to confess that his cat was gone, the cat reappeared. My friend saw him first. While I was relieved the cat was there, I didn’t think it was the same cat. This one seemed much younger than his cat. My buddy was happy, though, so I let it go.

In the next dream, I was with a few other friends. We were up in the hills off the side of a narrow road. I wasn’t certain what was going on. One friend was looking for something. After a bit of conversation, I realized that he was looking for land. I thought he wanted to buy some land.

We found a place. I recommended it to him. He agreed that it was a good place. Then, though, he brought out a box of plants and planted a tree. He explained that he’d been planting trees for years, wherever he could. I was impressed, and thought, I should do that, too. It was so clever of him.

That’s where it ended.

Floofen Reddy

Floofen Reddy (floofinition) – Flooftralian-Floofmerican floof pop (floop) singer and songwriter, who was also an author, actress, and activist, from Floofbourne, Floofstralia.

In use: “Achieving international success, Floofen Reddy became well known for her song, “I Am Floofy”, a song which the floofinist movement quickly embraced.”

Alexa, Stop

My wife is arguing with Alexa again.

Alexa is the persona ’employed’ by Amazon Echo. My wife and the machine often argue. Usually it’s about the weather.

“Alexa, what will the temperature be at eleven?”

“Here’s information that might answer your question. Band members turn their speakers up to eleven in the 1984 mockumentary, This is Spinal Tap.”

“No, Alexa.” Alexa is still talking. “Alexa, stop. What will the temperature be in Ashland at eleven?”

“The temperature in Ashland, Montana — “

“No, Alexa, stop. What will be the temperature at eleven AM in Ashland, Oregon, today?”

We don’t understand why Alexa will suddenly shift states on us. Alexa’s been with us for a few years. She knows that we live in Ashland, Oregon. We suspect she’s bored and messing with us.

Today’s argument is about music. My wife likes belly-dancing. George Abdo is one of her favorite performers for belly-dancing music. She plays the music almost every day, sometimes several times a day. It’s quite catchy. I sometimes find myself hearing it and belly-dancing. Well, that’s what I call it. My wife doesn’t agree.

“Alexa, play music by George Abdo.”

“Playing music by George Straight.”

“No! Alexa, stop! Alexa, play music by George Abdo.” She carefully enunciates the last name.

“Playing music by Paula Abdul.”

“No, Alexa, fucking stop. What’s wrong with you? You JUST PLAYED IT AN HOUR AGO.”

Alexa doesn’t answer.

“Alexa, play music by George Abdo.”

“Here’s information that — “

“Alexa, stop. Just forget it.”


Floofnostic (floofinition) – An animal who doesn’t believe or disbelieve what a person said, but remains doubtful and ambivalent about it.

In use: “The cat and dog each were floofnostic when their human said, “It’s cold and wet outside. You won’t like it.” They each insisted on going out, but then immediately wanted back in.”

Thanksgiving’s Theme Music

Welcome to Thanksgiving in America. It’s not the shiny spectacle that we strive to create in the United States. In a lot of ways, today is like flipping back through history pages, and seeing an ugly time, and wondering, how did those people get through that?

Yes, Thanksgiving is a holiday, innit? My holiday vibe is a bit subdued today. I tried being upbeat, but, yes, I’m a little weary. A little pandemic’d out. A little elections exhausted, blended with hues of a little tarnished life syndrome. Gosh, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? No, not for this snowflake. As an average white American male, we’re not supposed to know shit like this. That’s for other people. Guess I have a tiny inkling about what those others endured.

Not really. No abusive parents. No food insecurities. No wondering if anyone, police or otherwise, are going to shoot me. No worrying about paying the rent or getting a job, or so much other shit that’s heaped on people through the sperm lottery. (Should the sperm lottery be called a spottery? It seems spotty, doesn’t it, hit and miss, about who has what.)

I don’t have COVID-19. I’m aging and male, so I cope with some enlarged prostate, some BHP. (I think that’s the proper letter combos.) I broke an arm in July, leaving me to rehab that arm, hand, wrist, and shoulder. (Yeah, it continues to improve…I think…) I have a lifelong pre-existing condition, hypertension, that I deal with. I’m a hopeful novelist, so I have all the angst, hope, and collective feelings associated with that.

Compiling the bottom line, I have a lot to be thankful for. Yet the blues have me today.

As it’s a holiday, I’m indulging myself with a blues favorite. Yes, it’s a repeat song, from a few years ago. Nothing like the blues to lift you, right?

Here’s Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble with “Cold Shot”. It’s a video of a live performing, as I wish he was, back when I was young.

Happy holidays. Yeah, and wear a mask, please. Time to go get some coffee cake and coffee. My wife made the coffee cake last night for today. Yeah, life’s not so bad here. Cheers

Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble – Cold Shot (Live From Austin, TX) – YouTube

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