Owning the Peeps

Owning the Peeps (floofinition) – A strategy among animals that focuses on being sweet or humorous in order to control and manipulate humans, or ‘peeps’.

In use: “Owning the peeps by kittens and puppies is often as simple as invoking ‘big eyes’, wherein the animal presents a wide-eyed look of innocence when they’re caught doing something wrong.”

Trees & Change Dream

The dream involved two pubs-café-coffee shops. Hard to say exactly what they were. Both were tiny places. One at the top of a parking lot, and the other at the parking lot’s bottom. The parking lot was rutted and in disarray, with a large sugar maple tree about midway down. The sugar maple tree is interesting to me because it reminds me of the one on my in-laws’ land when was younger.

I was younger in the dream but had my current panoply of friends. Among these were several friends who’ve passed away. They were drinking beer with me in the shop at the hill’s top. Well-lit, the place was elbow to asses with people, and we were squeezed in around a small table. In response to comments by one, I replied, “That proves that the other business is being set up to fail.”

A deceased friend answered, “You’re wrong.”

I began to argue back but checked up. “You know something.”

He nodded. “I know something.”

We finished our beers, rose, and walked out. Like that, I was walking into the parking lot the next morning. With me was my back pack with my computer. I was going to the place we’d frequented the previous night. On a whim, I decided to check the other place, which was the one we’d been discussing. Going down the hill, passing the sugar maple tree, I saw a large opening formed in the trunk by the roots. Inside was a large though muddy, comfortable space lit by a single white candle with a yellow flame. Thinking of how it reminded me of a hobbit’s place, I wondered who lit the candle, as no one else was there. It’d be a good place to shelter, in my mind, going on, leaving the candle lit.

The bottom shop was constructed from wood and painted gray. Ancient and splintered, the shop needed fresh paint. Large trees bracketed it on either side. Reaching the entrance required crossing a short but wide wooden bridge which matched the building.

Inside, I set up my computer and then met the owner. He spoke with me about my backpack, commenting that it looked heavy. I replied, it was dependent on what’s inside. When it’s just my computer, it’s less than twenty-five pounds but adding books added weight. He answered, “That makes sense.”

I told him that he needs to take care of his business. I met this as a warning, which I explained to him, based on what I’d seen and heard. I then left to go up to the other place. Almost immediately, I realized that I had my backpack but had forgotten my computer. Fortunately, a little girl who’d been in the shop chased me down with it. I thanked her and pressed on.

Back up the hill, I struggled to enter the shop. A large tree had grown close to their front door. Growing at an angle, the tree’s girth forced me to shift sideways to enter the business. All this surprised me, prompting comments to myself about not remembering the tree being like that. Getting in, I set up my computer and ordered coffee. People gathered around to ask me what I was doing. Writing, I explained. They began asking questions about what I was writing, prompting me to share and expand on what I was writing. Finding my coffee cup empty, I made to leave, but they insisted they wanted to hear more, and bought me another cup of coffee. This mug was much larger, which I joked about. As I took the first sip, I discovered that the shop was full with people waiting to hear me continue my story.

Dream end.

Saturday’s Wandering Thought

The coffee shop was half full. Looking around, he counted ten other patrons. Another four people were working behind the counter. All were female except him.

He was the only male presence. The realization made him feel a little conspicuous. Being the only one present conferred enormous responsibility on him.

At least in his mind.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Into Saturday’s bloom of light we go! Despite the bloom, the 38 degrees F has the cats saying, give me a little warmth, sugar.

Today is November 12, 2022. We were out shopping yesterday. High inflation didn’t seem to keep anyone home on this holiday. Stores and restaurants were as filled as unopened cans of beer. Masks were worn by relatively few. We felt special having them on. We’re due for our next boosters next Friday. Looking forward to the happening.

Meanwhile, though we’re speeding toward Thanksgiving in the U.S., stores looked like Christmas exploded all over them. Other pieces of the holiday season such as Kwanza and Hanukkah were missing. As the wife noted, “Looks like they’re betting big on Christmas spending this year.”

Despite forecasts to the contrary, the sun got comfortable behind a fortress of clouds and let rain soak us. Good to have rain but snow on the mountains are what we need. Today again looks mostly sunny. 47 is the expected high, in Fahrenheit. The sun conducted its dawn blooming at 6:57 AM. The sun will close up shop and take away its light and heat bonanza at 4:52 PM, when the Earth spins our area away, crying as it does, “Away! Away with thee.”

Although sleep delivered a plethora of dreams, several of which involved bars, computers, and beer, I have a song called “I Wish You Love” inhabiting the morning mental music stream. Its presence flabbergasts me and The Neurons, technically referred to as satanistic boogerheads, are being surly and silent about it. I don’t know which version is in my head. I mean, yeah, it’s the English language version, but which performer? I know it’s female and a rendition as old as me. This is one of those songs that often turned up on Mom’s turntable during the winter season. Yes, we’re not in the winter season yet, and no snowflakes are falling. So, why dear Neurons, why?

Someday, perhaps technology will emerge with the means to tell us what our neurons are thinking.

Stay positive and test negative. I’m going for a coffee topoff, as there are mini cranberry cherry scones in the kitchen whispering invitations to eat them up. Here’s the music. Hope you know the song. If you don’t, let me introduce you. I ended up with the Judy Garland version, as I think it’s closest to the one in my head.


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