An In-Law Dream

My Mother- and Father-in-law, both deceased, showed up in my dream last night, along with Dad, who is alive. I was young and with my in-laws at their house, along with Dad, who was visiting. I was outside when I turned and looked at their house. This dream house was nothing like any of the homes they lived in dring the time I knew them. They had changed this house, though, installing a flat front facade in a deep slate blue color that really appealed to me. I complimented them on the color change, enthusing about it. They then added a flat white latticed gate, which popped again the blue. Whole thing came across as stylish, modern, and sharp, which, honestly, counters their RL simple country style. Dad was helping with the gate. As they finished, I walked over and checked it out. I discovered two machine head screws at the bottom sticking out of the gate.

I complained about the screws sticking out, chiding them about not finishing in a joking way that we’d shared with one another throughout my adult hood. Dad and FIL replied that the screws were fine. But I went over to finish screwing them in. When I applied pressure, the screws slid in without any resistance. I said, “There’s nothing behind these screws. They won’t help at all.” They ignored that and walked off.

Dream shift, we’re inside, playing some silly game tossing a ball around that none of the others would ever do in RL. None were ever silly that way around me. I was back in the right corner, which had a hallway leading to another area. The walls were pale green. I began examining them more closely and discovered mold growing on the walls. I pointed this out to them and said that something needs to be done. When none of the rest responded, I began cleaning them.

Another dream shift found me outside again, in my pajamas. Bright sunshine lit the broad fields and short bushes. I knew it was mid-afternoon. Someone kicked a football around. I decided to go out and play. My FIL said as an aside that someone serious about it would not be barefoot and in their pajamas. Ignoring him, I went out after the ball. It bounced behind me. Catching it on a bounce, I raced across the field. A small girl in pink pajamas attempted to tackle me. She had no chance but I didn’t want to hurt her so I stopped and let get me.

Dream end.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Thursday is found and stuck into place. Just like that, the puzzle known as 2022 gets closer to completion. Fitting these final pieces into place is a challenge that I best face when I’m coffee-fied. They’re so very similar. Like yesterday, today, December 15, 2022, is cold (29 F this morning), foggy, with wee, thin sunshine doing little to dint the gray quilt of fog and clouds and chilly winter air. Even the floofs are muttering, brr, with Papi leveling a dagger gaze at the world in expression of his disdain for the weather.

Though sunrise kicked in at 7:32, light at 6:27 AM was astonishing. I easily navigated through the house to let Papi out. Sunset will arrive at 4:40 this afternoon to close out this puzzle piece. Our temperature’s high point will be 5 C.

My wife popped home last night from her holiday book club and said, “I have the weirdest earworm.” She then sang the Texaco jingle. “You can trust your car to the man who wears the star, the big, white, Texaco star.” I had to laugh at that one as I tried remembering when I’d last heard it.

I have a different song in my morning mental music stream. Out walking in the cold day yesterday, I spied multiple home challenged folks trying to keep warm. It’s a constant thing here. We as a community pursue multiple prongs to help, chasing something sustainable and permanent as a solution. It’s been no bueno. Watching them and thinking about them, wondering how they’ve come to be in this situation, The Neurons fed “What’s It Like” by Everlast from 1998 into the music stream. I share it with you for theme music on this December day.

Stay positive, test negative, etc. I’m up for coffee once again. Here’s the music. Hope you enjoy it and experience a day that helps you finish the puzzle that’s you.

Cheers

The Writing Moment

It’d been an eyeblink. He’d been writing like crazy. He swears that he felt like he just sat down and opened the docs, delving into the novel, picking up the pieces of where he is and where he was going.

Coffee remains in his cup, but it is cold. This is an icy day, and the cold coffee doesn’t entice him. His rear end resents the chair’s hard seat. He has no idea how much he wrote and revised. Three more chapters were added and edited, other sections put under the editing grinder and polished, ensuring these new pieces fit smoothly as possible for this draft.

Time to stand up, stretch, and breathe. Back to life.

Back to reality.

He smiled as The Neurons remembered that song and stuck in his music stream. Fortunately, coffee shop music flowed in and overpowered the Soul II Soul song.

He wondered, though, will it show up in tomorrow’s morning mental music stream?

Makes Me Wonder

News came that a man has successfully removed over one hundred books from school libraries. This is in Florida. He’d moved there earlier in the year and then began challenging books. See, he didn’t want them in the school’s library. Either they offended his reading tastes or they included sex, and he didn’t approve, and didn’t want his child to be able to pick one up. This one man is dictating, through Florida’s ridiculous laws regarding books and their zany laws about sexual preferences or genders other than straight up between one man and one woman — and they should be married and in a stable relationship, I infer from his comments and news reports — then they shouldn’t be in his school library. Because, you know, his child might pick it up and read it, and then, flash, OMG, what will they become?

Oh, yeah, he hasn’t totally read those books which he demands to have removed. He knows enough, see? No need to read the entire book. Could there be any redeeming reasons beyond sex to read a book? Why, of course not. That offending sex ruins the ret of the book.

I guess that’s what he’s thinking, as it’s solely on that one aspect that this fine Christian is having books challenged and removed.

One of the books that he hasn’t read which he wants to have removed is a YA graphic novel, The Girl from the Sea, by Molly Knox Ostertag. Curious about it, I went searching for more and found an excellent Advocate story about Ostertag and her graphic novel. Besides comments from Ostertag, Advocate includes several pages of The Girl from the Sea. It is funny and sweet, and I want to read more. Fortunately, it’s available at my county’s library. I’ve joined the waiting list of people wishing to read it.

Here’s a link to the Advocate so you can check it out.

Molly Knox Ostertag Talks Queer YA Visibility in The Girl from the Sea

By the way, there’s no sex in this YA work. Nor is there nudity or swearing. Just one kiss between two girls. That’s what offends this man.

In case you’re wondering.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

His reflection from the mirror startled him. He looked just like an Oompa-Loompa from Charley and the Chocolate Factory.

Just one of those days, he told himself with a suppressed sigh.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

A winter Wednesday morning to you. No snow here in the lower levels, but the temperatures and air quality has us singing that winter is upon us. No surprise, it being December 14, 2022, a nose hair short of mid-month. -2 C and foggy out there. The fog will grumble and fuss around the trees and houses for most of the morning but burn off and permit sunshine’s entrance. Daylight crept through the valley’s fog at 7:32 this morning. By the time the sun lowers its from our presence, the air temp is supposed to jump up to 46 degrees F. It may do so but yesterday’s 42 degrees felt like 34, as they say.

After perusing some morning news headlines, I pulled an early cup of coffee, and wrote the dream journal up. Les Neurons then then pulled me down a ‘where are they now’ path about a one-time neighbor and co-worker. We were serving the Air Force together at Onizuka AFB in the mid-nineties last century. Before Onizuka was renamed to honor an astronaut killed in t he Challenger disaster, it was Sunnyvale Air Station. It went from Air Station to Air Force Base to Air Base after being renamed Onizuka.

That has nothing to do with my friend. Last which I heard of him, he’d gone to Turkey on an unaccompanied assignment, returned to Florida, divorced, and retired. He and I ‘connected’ on Facebook but little was ever there of him except for annual birthday greetings from people I don’t know. He’d quit responding to those a decade ago. Alive or dead, The Neurons wonder.

Today’s song, brought to you by The Neurons and their ‘where are they now’ tour, is “Cut Like A Knife” by Bryan Adams from 1983. This is because the tour subject loved this song. Midway through a party, he’d request it. If he’d imbibed enough and it was late enough, he’d sing and play air guitar to the song. Thinking of him, I think of that song, and cigarettes and beer.

Hope you enjoy it. Stay pos and test neg. I gather from reading digital news papiers that a growing body of folks eschews such quaint measures as masking, testing, etc. “It’s nothing,” you read more often online even as rates of flu and COVID climb. Certainly, local store experiences find my wife and I in a tiny minority when we’re masked while shopping. Oh well, live and learn.

Here’s the tunes. I need to wrap up morning activities, and head to the coffee house for writing activities. Hope your day is safe but enjoyable. Let’s go on a limb and say, productive, too, right?

Cheers

Burgers and Beer Dream

The dream found my wife and me on vacation at a seaside resort. Throngs of people enjoyed warm and sunny weather as a festival proceeded. Bands played and people sang. Many milled about, going from one spectacle to another.

We broke out of our small luxury place on the main boulevard and proceeded down the seaside promenade where the main events were taken place. Sunshine teased blue wavelets and gulls wheeled above. What struck me dumb was wherever I went, crowds so that I was never bothered by the numbers, never needed to wait in line, and was never stopped unless I wanted to be stopped.

We returned to our room because we needed to dress for dinner. Dinner plans were unsettled but we were meeting others. Our suite had a living room with large windows. Strangers were gathered there, along with an employee, a big bluff, graying hair white guy. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail. We conversed about who we are and who we’d been. A dark-haired white woman with red lipstick wearing a dress that matched her lips sat in a blue accent chair listening. He and I ended up talking about cats as I discovered that he had a cat on a leash. I told him about a RL trap, neuter, and spay project I’d participated in during one duty assignment. Then I told everyone that they needed to leave because I needed to shower and change clothes. The woman in red stood up and kissed my cheek, thanking me for helping cats, and then she and everyone else left.

I went into the other room, showered and changed. When I came out, my wife and her sister were sitting on the sofa. They told me that they didn’t want to go out. They didn’t feel like dressing up and were worn out by the day. How ’bout if we called room service and just had burgers and beers with fries in the room. That worked for me.

Dream end.

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