Welcome

A carillon chimes the hour. The sun gives it a warm shoulder. She always works her own hours. Two deer digest, still except for ear flicks against flies and shifts to identify sounds. Blue-eyed and black faced, a long-haired blond feline assesses the day and listens to a woodpecker beat out a love sonnet on a wooden utility pole. Acorn treasure in mouth, a squirrel flicks a bushy gray tail and trots along a red-brick wall as two black and blue scrub jays hop across the green grass below him. A warm zephyr dries off forehead sweat and whispers close to ear, “Welcome to autumn.”

Floofdity

Floofdity (floofinition) – An animal’s inherent nature or essence.

In use: “The floofdity of some animals is not easily discerned, but some stamp with the world with it, such as Flash, whose floofdity was that she was the only animal permitted in her property — yard or house — and that all others would be loudly threatened with a sound slashing. Quinn, on the other hand, exuded a sweet floofdity, that all was right and would always be right with the world.”

Monday’s Theme Music

A riddle to begin: what is always new, different, and the same? Here we are now — Monday again. New day, different day, same day.

Yes, it’s Monday, October 4, 2021 — ten four. Do you understand? A soft-spoken, lethargic sunrise came into my life this AM at 7:10. Sun flight, where we spin away again, will come at 6:58 PM. AQI is one again — fresh air. Temperature is now 56 F but monsieur is expecting something in the upper seventies range, perhaps. Once again, it’s a pale, mottled sky, white with faint gray dimples and dips. What’s it portend? The weather gods might know.

An excellent walk was had yesterday. 77 F when I set out. Full sunshine that hills and trees blocked out quickly as I went upslope, temperatures dipping four, five degrees. Sometimes a light wind visited as I passed digesting deer, pondering cats, busy squirrels and birds, and dog-walkers with their animals. Four miles was done. Finished as the sun stood up and declared with a yawn and a stretch, “Well, I’m calling it a day.”

“Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” (1969) by Crosby, Stills, and Nash, inhabits the morning’s mental music stream. The song has always captivated me. Guitar variations; the lyrics, pitches, harmony, tempo changes, its personal nature as an attempt by the songwriter, Stephen Stills, to capture and explain what he’s feeling. Here’s a live version; a little rougher than the studio-produced gem, but honest. Plus, I always like seeing performers as they looked when they made their music.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax & booster. Enjoy your Monday and October. Coffee time. Cheers

The Weird Restroom Dream

Well, here we go.

My wife and I got into a car. This was a used car that she’d bought. Champagne gold color. Small four-door. Japanese manufacturer. She wanted me to drive it. I started it. The engine idled rough. I revved the engine mildly to keep it running. Looked for a choke. Figured out that the air vent in the middle also served as the engine choke. Pulled that out to adjust the idle. Then tried explaining that to her. She wouldn’t pay attention. Didn’t matter; we’d driven across a large parking lot to our destination.

My wife went off to do things. I circulated, looking for something to do. I encountered a group of women. I was young; they were the same age. One of them was immensely attractive to me. Slender. Pale white. Short bobbed dark brown hair. Mild makeup — red lipstick, a little rouge and eye shadow. She wore a black and white top and black pants. I could tell by her smile and look that my interest was reciprocated.

It was a busy place. Like a huge nightclub. We were all drinking. I was getting drunk. I kept circulating, wondering where my wife was, drinking, talking to other men — strangers — and looking for the woman with the dark hair. I’d see her and she’d see me. We’d try to meet to talk. But we never did.

I had to pee. All that drinking. I queued up with other guys to use a restroom. But it was strange. From where I was, I could see toilets not being used. I crashed the line and moved inside.

Weird, weird, weird. No toilets. Iron pedestals on legs, all painted black. I said, “I just need a urinal.” There were no urinals. No sinks. No toilets. No stalls. No piss pots or buckets. But I was certain that I’d seen toilets. Nevermind; I needed to pee.

Woman thronged the sides, watching men pee. Men were embarrassed. I decided that I didn’t care; I needed to pee. I stepped up to one of the funky pedestals. Peed beneath it. My urine was bright yellow and a strong flow. A woman circled around to peek at my junk as I peed. Another woman scolded her for being so bold; the other replied, “I don’t care, I want to see if there’s anything beneath the surface.”

I finished peeing, left, found a place to wash my hands. Then I sat and passed out. Recovering, I decided, I need to leave.

I circled around to where I’d left my brief case with my laptop and other items. The laptop and briefcase were both black. I repacked everything. I discovered I’d been walking around in black socks. I was wearing all black clothes; jeans and a shirt. I had two pairs of shoes. Both were black. Two shoes were shiny dress shoes; the others were flat black activity shoes. I decided I wanted to wear the activity shoes. I sat to put on the shoes. Talked to other men as they went by. They were telling me that they needed to leave. I was agreeing with them, telling them that I was doing the same.

I stood and looked down. Although I planned to wear the activity shoes, I was wearing the shiny dress shoes. Damn it! I sat down, untied and removed the shoes, and went to put on the others. Other people passed. One was the woman with the dark air. We chatted for a minute. I told her that I was leaving. She was disappointed. Wanted me to stay. Sorry, but I needed to go.

I stood. Looked down. I had the wrong shoes on again. Madness! I kicked those shoes off without untying them. Put them in my bag so I wouldn’t put them on again. Sat down to put on the activity shoes. Found I was putting on the dress shoes again. But stopped myself. Put on the right shoes. Joked with myself that putting on shoes shouldn’t be so hard. Packed up the dress shoes. Left.

Dream end.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: