Day: September 22, 2023

Another Space Traveling Dream

I again went through the space traveling dream.

This is a continuing dream series. I’ve blogged about it before three times, but I didn’t mention several other episodes, and the series fell out of fashion. Like a new TV show season, the series returned last night.

In the space traveling dream series, I’m in my house, but it’s traveling in space on an alien spaceship. I’ve never seen or heard the aliens behind this, as far as I know.

When I awaken from these, I’m often confused about where I’m at and what’s going on. Although in the very first dream space traveling dream, I thought it was cool to be in my house being transported by aliens through space. I never thought I’d make it to space, yet here I was.

Last night’s dream event was recalled when I awoke in my home office. I’d fallen asleep in a recliner while streaming the first season of Justified. Awakening, the streaming service had stopped streaming, a feature set when it’s been going awhile, so the television was silent. I was alone; Tucker had been asleep on my lap, but he’d left.

Bewilderment washed over me. I was confused about where I was. Some anxiety splashed up about forgetting to do things. I scrambled to think what I thought I should have done that I neglected. Was it about charging devices? Going somewhere? Feeding the cats?

No; it was about kitty litter. What was it about kitty litter? Oh, it was missing.

But wait; aren’t I on the alien ship? Does the alien ship have kitty litter? Do we need kitty litter in space, or is something else out there? I didn’t understand what I was thinking there, but then began worrying about kitty litter being in space’s weak gravity. I imagined it floating around, polluting the air, maybe damaging systems. Except, I was in my house, and there was gravity, so there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Except, was the whole house there? I panicked, thinking the aliens had carried my office away from the rest of the house. Scrambling out of the office, I found the house intact beyond the door.

I wanted to look out a window for the alien spaceship. I never have seen it; I always imagine the house resting on the outside hull, which is dark as a lightless night. I have no evidence for believing that, and don’t know how it’s connected to the alien ship. Yet, I also think that if I want to, I could go into the alien ship.

Coming up on two AM, I felt it was time to hit the bed.

The thing about this, it took a lot longer to write what transpired than it took to think, panic, and scramble. It was like, from the dream, I was thinking that I was somewhere that I didn’t expect to be and then had to solve the mystery of where I was and what I was meant to do.

Hitting the bed, Tucker joined me after a few minutes. Comforting sleep was rediscovered once again.

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I was in the Pittsburgh International Airport baggage area, awaiting our luggage’s arrival as though they’re rare precious animals. We’ve already taken the first needed steps after a long flight of relieving our bowels.

It’s weirdly quiet here; sounds echo in the tall, wide chamber. Other passengers sprinkle in , surrounding the system like an army laying siege to a fort. We’re all cold, with postures as though we’re huddling. Airport A/Cs are usually set low enough to preserve popsicles.

I recognize fellow travelers, such as the tall elderly man who wobbled slowly up the jetway, and the young Japanese woman in colorful fleece pants and jacket who appears as if she’s walking while asleep. Most people are silent as they wait, checking messges or reading emails on their phones; a few start talking on cell phones, giving all of us broad strokes about where they’re at, where they’re going, what’s next for them.

A harsh buzzer bellows. The red light on its single metal tube begins spinning. Mechanical grinding and groaning rises. The metallic system commences its hurried orbit around the central chute.

We watch and wait, watch and wait, arms crossed, sighing, coughing, as the belt goes around bereft of bags. Of course, it’s the end of a journey for the bags, too. Hundreds of yards away, they left the aircraft and are traveling the system. It’s supposed to go faster than the passengers, so the passengers don’t need to wait.

That has yet to happen at any airport I’ve ever used in the United States. At last comes the thump announcing the first bag. A red hard-sided piece slides down the chute with a hiss. We crane forward to see the lucky person who claims the first bag.

It isn’t me. My bag is black, I remind myself. My wife’s bag is brown leather. Sighing, I cross my arms and look forward to the next bag, watching as it bumps along, waiting for its person to show, feeling dismayed as more bags are claimed and the others trot away. Then, finally, a flush of triumph; our bags have cometh.

Bags claimed with grunts of exertion, we hustle on to the journey’s next stage: the rental car counter. There is some relief that all has gone well. I feel myself shedding travel anxiety. Every step has the potential to disrupt safe and succeful travel. Knock wood, it’s gone well for us.

We leave the baggage area tired but smiling, pressing back into the terminal against the flow of people coming down to find their bags. Good luck, I think to them.

Good luck.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: hopeful

We’ve begun streaming daylight. It’s Friday in Ashlandia, where the winds are kicking the trees around and the sun is acting tired, September 22, 2023. The cats are like, “Who turned the wind on? Find them and turn it off or kill them.” It’ll be 79 F today, although we’re at 59F now. First day of fall, according to the net, so you know it’s true. No leaves have revealed their autumn colors in my realm yet.

Brekkie is made and being consumed, and the coffee is ready, waiting for its turn. My hot water has been drunk. I’ve been drinking hot water first AM thing since I was about nineteen years old. We acquired the habit because of the Edgar Cayce readings. We were big fans. Still are.

First, an update to my sister’s cancer surgery. Removing her rectum took three hours and was successful but painful. She’s in hospital now. Was on morphine yesterday for the pain. I imagine she is on something today. She has eaten oatlmeal and French toast for breakfast. Our new family mantra is no chemo and reversed by November. She’ll be in the hospital for a week. The clock has begun.

The phone rang at 6:45 AM. My wife was up, getting ready for her exercise class but Tucker and I were purring in bed, and halfway spilled into sleep. Realizing the time, my parents’ health and age, my sister’s surgery, and other matters, I rolled out of bed and raced for the phone. Point of order, we don’t have a phone in the bedroom. I keep my cell in the office, and we still have standard cordless phones running on VOIP. I’ve had that since 2008. That’s what was ringing

So I ran down the hall. Two rings had finished. After four rings, it goes to voicemail so I needed to get there before the fourth ring ended.

But my wife had grabbed the office phone. I heard her answer and veered that way. As I went in, my wife said, “Here he is,” and put the phone toward me. I was trying to read her face when she said, “It’s the flower people.”

Relief and confusion. My wife and I ordered flowers yesterday for my sister to be delivered today. I had my sister’s phone number wrong. Extra digit. I took care of it and went back to Tucker. We snooze well together.

Today’s song is “Fix You” by Coldplay. You know, because it’s about trying to mend others who are sick or hurt. So, I pulled it up for my sister and all those others suffering diseases like cancer, or injuries, or whatever problem, mental, emotional, physical. I wish I had the power to fix others. Instead, I try to send positive energy to them, zapping them like it’s an extremely accurate healing ray.

So here is Coldplay, with guests Billie Eilish and Finneas. Stay pos, be strong, endure, and progress. The coffee has been tested, and the results are exemplary. Time to stream the day. Cheers

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