Maybe it’s just me, but whenever I see a cuddle puddle of sleepy kittens in a photo or video on the net, there’s usually one staring suspiciously at the camera.
Military Dreams Again
The dreams flowed together. All were of a military sort but had nothing to do with my military career.
The first found me with others outside, beside parked cars outside of apartment and business complexes. My wife was with me and the others. All the folk were dream acquaintances, no one from real life.
My wife said with alarm, “I just heard that they’re going to set off a nuke.”
Disbelief coursed around the group. Several said, “They wouldn’t.”
A muted boom froze us. Turning like one being, we looked across and over trees. A bright white light flashed.
“They did it,” someone said, a comment echoed by others.
“We’d better get away,” people said, “get to shelter. Run, hurry.”
The rest ran. I stayed by a car. I wanted to see what would happen to me when the nuke’s energy struck. Seeing it coming as a red light, I closed my eyes and ducked my head, then flattened against the car’s side. Red radiation painted my skin. As I rose, looking at my skin, I thought, I’ve made a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that.
But it was done.
Next, I was with an army in place outside. We were all in woody camo gear. Thin, steady drizzle dampened our spirits, clothing and equipment. Across the valley was a like enemy encampment. We were waiting for them to attack.
The waiting was so tedious. Boredom overtook me. And I was cold, wet, and underdressed. From this, I decided to sneak away to get a outerwear. With continuing glances to ensure I wasn’t observed but also that the attack wasn’t imminent, I stole away from the woodsy front. Behind it was a village with widely spaced dwellings. Free of tension, relaxed, it was a wholly different state. I found the cottage where I’d been staying, went in and found my gear. After changing, I added the coat and headed back out.
Outside, I saw our commanders talking, heads down, close together, strolling. I slipped in behind them, following them, to see what I could learn. Eventually, they went to a place where a whiteboard had a map drawn on it. They wrote on it. Continuing to spy, I realized that the two men were in love with one another but wouldn’t address their relationship, and that was paralyzing their abilities to think, plan, and lead. Dismayed, I headed back to the front.
Back there, I settled back in. Nothing had changed. I stayed for a while, watching, drizzle falling, chill air kissing me, until someone came by and told me I was relieved so I can sleep and eat. Fully dressed, I settled into a bed. Someone else was on my left side. As I slept, others would join me and I’d wake up. Typically a woman, they would curl up against me for warmth, slept for a time, and then leave. Waking to return to duty, I knew that had happened nineteen times. One had been my sister, who came by, laughing, confessing that she’d heard I was warm and comforting.
I returned to duty. Looking through the drizzle across the valley, I saw a smiling white woman with frizzy brown hair and glasses appear. The enemy commander, I knew. I passed the word that she was there and warned others to be ready because she was working her way down through her troops, and I thought they might be preparing to launch their attack. We got ready to fight but the commander went down and disappeared from sight.
Suspecting subterfuge, I began watching our flanks. In a moment, I saw her appear, coming to us from the left. “There she is,” I told the rest, rising to go and confront her. As I went out, though, she transformed into another person who looked almost the same.
Surprise surmounted me. Had I been wrong, or was this a trick? I divided my time between watching her and surveilling the enemy across the valley, waiting for something to happen.
Dream end.
Friday’s Theme Music
Mood: upbeat
Swaddled in surreal dreams, tucked into bed, left alone by the cats, I slept late and solid. Now I’m back, baby, ready for Friday, September 8, 2023. After clouds gathered like buffalo at a watering hole yesterday afternoon, we passed through the night without wetness falling from the sky, thunder, and lightning. Today brought us impressive sky clarity and blueness. It chilled overnight. Back into the late sixties now, we’re heading into the mid 80s realm.
Reading Peter Navarro was convicted pushed my belief in the US justice system fractionally higher. Hurricane Lee still has me watching anxiously to see what’ll happen. You’re talking Cat 5, sustained winds over 159 MPH, strong enough to easily flatten frame houses.
Interesting article over on NYT about data being delivered by the James Webb Space Telescope and its impact on our knowledge and theories about the Universe’s origins. Confounding and unexpected discoveries have cosmologies saying “Wait, what?” I’m pleased because one theory being considered is whether physics itself is evolving and changing. That’s one of several personal ideas in my quiver, along with the idea that we have many ‘variations’ of time which we haven’t even begun to approach, and that these things are not uniform nor consistent, giving us a much richer tapestry of existence. Fun to ponder with coffee, beer, or wine.
We have a repeat of a song posted in 2017. The Neurons have dug out “Long, Long Way from Home” by Foreigner (1977) and plopped it right into the morning mental music stream (Trademark confounding). I don’t know what aspects of my dreams, thinking, or activities inspired Les Neuros to pop this one out. Trying to figure them out is like understanding quantum mechanics, and I ain’t nowhere near even explaining QM to others. By the way, remember when QM meant a Quinn Martin production? Yes, that’s The Neuries talking.
Okay, a collective demand for coffee is swelling through my corporeal being. Time to move it, move it, move it. Stay strong, be pos, test neg, and carry on. Here’s the music. Cheers
Thursday’s Wandering Thought
A clothing purge was conducted last week. On of the items uncovered in the closet was my military cap. Last worn in 1995, I put that sucker on my head.
Or tried.
It would not cover my head as accustomed in my mil days. I took it into the other room for my wife to enjoy. With a burst of laughter, she exclaimed, “That looks like a skull cap.”
Questions arose. Did the hat shrink as it sat on a shelf for the last 28 years, or did my head really grow that much? I might start measuring my head, track its progress, see how much it changes in the next ten years.
Aside
For me, my first coffee sip is with the nose. Having that steaming dark freshness clambering over my olfactory system grants a momentary lull and a psyche lift.
Thursday’s Theme Music
Mood: focused
It’s cool and blue in Ashlandia, where the nights are getting longer, and the people are looking inward. 60 F now on this Thursday, the seventh day of September, 2023 in the common era, but we will experience 81 F today. I’ll take that. No wildfire smoke. The fires are slowly being contained. Last week’s rain helped. That pressure — worrying about fires encroaching on your town, your home, and eating it until only blackened messes remained — has eased.
The cats approve of the weather change. Papi remains on his out-at-night schedule, but he’s now more likely to be visible in a resting space just outside one of the doors during the day. Tucker has decided he’s an elder statesfloof, who are beings who don’t worry about details about weather and seasons.
Watching Hurricane Lee’s progress today. Another destructive storm, it is missing Puerto Rico at this point, and looks like it might lick the Bahamas. Early days, yet, but it could avoid the US eastern coast except for some tide and surf impacts. Meanwhile, some of the US in the realms of the east and south continue to endure a record-setting heatwave as they cruise toward autumn. San Antonio has had 70 days over 100 F degrees. I remember when I lived there back in 1980, we were impressed that we had eleven straight days over 100. That’s nothing these days.
Also paying attention to conversations and lawsuits addressing whether Donald Trump can or should be on ballots, discussions about the potential government shutdown, and the continuing war in Ukraine. Also interesting news and data about abortion rates was found in the NYTimes. There was too much other matters — uplifting and depressing — to go on about without caffeine.
From out of the blue — or out of the gray, I guess — The Neurons are treating me to the 1970 song, “Ride Captain Ride” by the Blues Image in my morning mental music stream (Trademark revocable). I can speculate about this song’s place in my day’s thinking. Maybe it’s because I’m thinking of my youth and this 1970 song was part of the scene in my fourteenth year, when many things are happening to a boy’s mind, body, and soul. Or, it could be the sense of focus and promise the song offers to me. Who knows what The Neurons latched onto? I certainly don’t.
Stay pos, be strong, and eat well. Here’s the music — which, um, is an interesting video, a product of the times back then. Hope you enjoy it. Coffee time, one more time. Cheers
Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
I find myself part of a new breed, one that looks at the activity tracker on their wrist and then taps it to reach a specific piece of desired information or function. I think I’ll call folks like me ‘wrist-tappers’. Maybe just tappers.
Michael Seidel, writer 