The Maze Dream
This dream began as a military variation.
I was in the US Air Force in the dream, as I had been for twenty plus years in real life. Arriving at a new assignment, I was created warmly by new co-workers. They’d been looking forward to my arrival.
After settling into a room, I change into my uniform to go meet my new commander. My pants an shirt were crisply sharp and mustache and hair cut were aligned with regulations. Very satisfying. Putting on my highly polished shoes, I discovered I had no shoe strings.
No shoe strings. The situation flummoxed me. How could I have shoes with the strings to tie them?
It was late, I had an appointment, and nothing was open to buy new laces. But needing shoe strings, I went around fast, knocking on doors and talking to people, looking for shoe strings to borrow. I found a pair of shoes with purple shoe strings but rejected them; purple shoe strings with a dress uniform wouldn’t work. I’d rather go without shoe strings.
Co-workers came to the door, urging me to hurry. I told them about my problem with the thought one of them may be able to help me.
They laughed it off and urged me not to worry because I wouldn’t be needing my shoes. Plans were afoot (sorry) for me to wear different clothes and footwear.
Mystified by that, I went with them.
I met the commander, a light colonel. After welcoming me, he immediately asked, “Didn’t they tell you about your new assignment?”
“No details,” I answered, hiding confusing.
He chortled and gestured. “We’re going to make you big. Then you an help monitor the maze and guide people through it.”
Those words completely confused me but I reigned that it and responded with a respectful, “Sir?”
Seeing my confusion, he continued smiling and answered, “You’ll see.”
The next I knew, I was very large. I guess I was twenty-five feet high and proportionately as broad as a fit young man. No longer appearing as I had, I’d lost my mustache, and was very pale skinned, with short, razor-cut hair. My clothing and shoes were now tight black pants, a tight white tee shirt, and black canvas shoes.
And I was in a maze.
Lined with white cement, the waist rose to about my waist. The walls were about a foot thick. I could see people wandering through the maze. I then understood, oh, I’m supposed to be helping them because they can’t see where they are, nor where they should go. Others large individuals, like me, male and female, of various ethnicities were finding lost individuals and calling out directions abut where to go.
Finding a young woman near me in the maze, I began doing the same.
Dream end
I often have dreams which focuses on my military career. I always think of it as a subconscious yearning for that period of life, which was ordered and structured, but also full of purpose and direction.
The twists, of needing shoe laces, and then becoming a large person, helping others through a maze, were quite unique in my dream experiences. I arrived at the conclusion that I’m trying to tell myself that I’m worrying about something which doesn’t matter, and that I’m ‘bigger’ than that. It’s not others I’m helping through the maze, but myself.
Or The Neurons were yet again just messing with me.
Floofgestible
Floofgestible (floofinition) – Easily influenced by animal requests, behaviors, or presence. Origins: 1890, borrowed in Middle English floof and directly from Latin adjective suffix -ibilis (-able).
In use: “The new cats, Scout and Snickers, quickly established that Carla was floofgestible, and soon had her wrapped around their tails.”
In use: “Many people who declare that they’re aren’t ‘animal lovers’ and find themselves with a innocent animal needing assistance quickly realize that they’re floofgestible, doing anything to help their new fur friends to keep them alive and comfortable.”
Recent: “One friction point between Cameron and his wife in an otherwise idyllic marriage was that he was floofgestible, and always donating to animal causes such as rescues after an earthquake in Turkey and the war in Ukraine.”
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Mood: spirited
The crescendo you might have heard earlier today was Tuesday, October 17, 2023, arriving. We’ve now passed half of the tenth month. Many are gearing up for the holiday season to launch.
It’s 53 F in Ashlandia, where the animals are feted and the people drink coffee all day. It feels curiously warm and pleasant. Forecasters expect our temperatures to crest at 71 F. We may see another degree or two at our house. Where and how we’re situated in relation to mountains and sunshine often results in a little more heat found in my space.
Beautiful out there, though, with stingy white clouds drifting through a strong azure sky and an invigorating sun.
A friend forwarded some humor to me. I plucked a few out for your morning jollies. They seem relatable to modern life and might distract us some from the wars and political messes swirling through October.
I’m feeling much better today. It’s been days since I’ve had any energy. This illness drained and wearied me, and became a stanch reminder of how often we don’t appreciate things until they’re gone. In my case, it was energy, willpower, clear thinking, and being pain free. I hope I never reach that state on a regular basis. So many people live like that with diseases and sickness. I saw it regularly when I visited Mom and witnessed her enduring and coping with multiple issues.
I also see it with my buddy, Larry, who lives on an oxygen bottle these days, Most painfully, I see it in my wife as she fights with flares of pain and stiffness delivered by her auto-immune issues. I took my own decent health too much for granted.
The Neurons have “Love Will Keep Us Together” looping in the morning mental music stream (Trademark flabbergasted). Although Neil Sedaka was co-writer and originally released it, I have the Captain and Tennille cover from 1973. As I said the last time I shared this song, back in 2018, it’s not my style but it was being played frequently on the radio stations where I lived, so I heard it all the time. I don’t know what prompted The Neurons to bring it out of the music vault but I fear I must play it for others or it will keep going around my head.
If you read a previous post this week, you might remember that my wife and I couldn’t remember what I thought I might buy Mom for her birthay. Well, one happy tidbit is that my wife pulled enough out for me to recall all the details. See, two brains are better than one.
The converasation was about genealogy. We were specifically talking about the Mayflower and William Brewster. Three of us are related to him via DNA. In my case, he would be my great-grandfather by ten. From that conversation, I thought buying Mom a gift to the General Society of Mayflower Descendants. I wonder if they shorten that to ‘the society’ or ‘the descendants’ in private conversations?
Stay positive, be strong, and keep optimistic. I’m up for coffee. Anyone else?
Here’s the music. Cheers
Monday’s Wandering Thoughts
Watching an NFL football game on television yesterday, I heard the analyst say about a running play where the team lost yardage, “He ended up with a negative loss.”
That spun my thinking. I’d never heard it before during a football game. Hearing it prompted me to wonder, can a football team have a positive loss? It seemed like a screwy way to express the results.
I can imagine some football fans trying to come up with a way to establish a negative loss. Like, not only did they lose yardage, but the clock kept running, meaning that they’re running out of time. That means, with the score as it is, they’ll probably lose because they’re behind and not much time to play remains.
That sounds like modern NFL football, convoluted and a little contorted, becoming more abstract by the week.
For instance, on a quarterback sneak, it looked like the player was stopped short of the goal line. It was fourth down, so that team turned it over on downs.
But wait, it looked like the quarterback fumbled the ball and another player on his team recovered it, so it’s a touchdown.
No, the referee explained: “Only the person fumbling the ball may advance it. Therefore, the ball will be placed at the point of the fumble, and possession has changed due to loss of downs.”
Got that?
That wasn’t the end. The team who didn’t score — the Eagles, BTW — threw a red flag to challenge the result. That ended with the Eagles having a touchdown awarded them. That’s because, before the QB fumbled, the ball crossed the plane of the goal line before his body was down. Officials in New York figured that out by using multiple sychronized television angles to determine exactly where the ball and the QB’s body parts were during which point of the play.
Yow. Watching resulted in a positive increase of confusion AND exasperation.
Imagine trying to use ‘negative loss’ in other ways. I know that in some emotional situations, people like to express positive loss and negative loss, trying to spin, for example, someone’s death in a positive way. I have done that: “At least they’re not feeling pain.” I think that’s positioning a negative event with a positive outcome.
Drinking my coffee. I suppose I could say, “I’m going to drink more coffee, which will result in a negative loss of coffee in my mug.”
I wouldn’t, though. That’s laborious. I’d just say the obvious, “I’m going to drink more coffee, so there will be less remaining in my mug.” I could even shorten that: “I’m going to drink more coffee, so I’ll have less remaining.”
Or, I could tell my wife that after shopping for groceries, we had a negative loss in our checking account.
I’m sure that would earn me a WTF look from her.
Why, though, would such a declaration be even needed? Isn’t it self-evident that there’s less coffee after I drink some? I think it is, unless it’s a magically self-refilling cup. As for whether it’s positive or negative, that depends on your outlook: is the mug half-empty or half-full? Are you a pessimistic or optimist?
I don’t usually think in terms of glasses and mugs being half-empty or half-full. I usually think, “I have some left,” or, “It’s gone.” Does that mean that I’m just a pragmatist? Or am I merely focused on the situation’s bottom line: I have some or I don’t.
I’m no doubt overthinking the turn of words, but I hope ‘negative loss’ doesn’t catch on. It probably will, the way that saying, “I literally died” is now acceptable to so many. Sure. Now that you ‘literally died’, you’ve returned to life. Are you undead or have you been resurrected?
I suspect some became zombies after they ‘literally died’. That might explain our state of politics. *rim shot* (Yes, that was snark.) The ‘literally died’ lost some brain cells during their experience, negatively decreasing their thinking skills. (See what I did there?)
It’s like hearing, as I so often do, “I was thinking in my head.” Well, where else would you be thinking? In your foot?
That’s like saying, “I was chewing in my mouth.” Okay. I’m glad you’ve mastered that. (Yes, that was more snark.)
Although, after drinking coffee just now, I had a positive gain in my energy and focus. BTW, I drink my coffee black, without cream. (Hello, it’s more snark.)
It’s kinda like saying that football team had a negative loss.
Monday’s Theme Music
Mood: unenthusiastic
Monday came in for me like a snail runnin’ the hundred meters. It’s October 16, 2023.
53 F now in Ashlandia, where the wine is local and the Pinot Noir is pretty damn good. An unrelenting, unhappy wind is assailing us under a dull gray sky. Rain is due. Fall is assuming its familiar form. Leaves changed color and now they’re dropping off trees, piling up again curbs and in yards, and zipping past windows on a zephyr motor.
Birthdays are pending. Cards and gifts must be purchased and sent. October is our family’s heaviest birthday month, with one past and eight due.
Mom’s birthday is one of them. I’m not sure what to get her. Sitting and conversing at Empty Bowls on Friday, someone mentioned something. I said, “Maybe I should get that for Mom for her birthday.”
Beside me, my wife brightned. “That’s a great idea.”
Neither can remember what ‘it’ was. We’re still working on pulling it out of memory. Sometimes it takes two minds to remember things. LOL.
Still sick. Stayed in from writing yesterday. Mostly read and napped, watched some NFL football.
Sore throat is gone; yea. Energy, though, is really tanked. Like someone siphoned it away. Headache was there and ears were hurting this morning. But I drank coffee to kick start my energy. Surprise, the head and ear pains fled. So hurray for coffee, once again.
Locking into my mood, The Neurons have positioned “Ridin’ the Storm Out” by REO Speedwagon into the morning mental music stream (Trademark ignored). The 1981 song emerged when I was stationed with the Air Force on Okinawa, Japan.
Okinawa is a narrow island and subject to typhoons/tropical cyclones. These were often endured with ‘Phoon Parties’. You tape over and board over the windows with what you can find. Then you raid the booze store on base and the Commissary to buy provisions. While the aircraft were evacuated, we prepared to survive a few days, possibly without electricity.
My wife and I were fortunate in our first three years. We had a tiny off-base apartment in a tiny apartment building. The landlords lived on the bottom floor, and a dozen US couples lived in the apartments. During a ‘phoon, we could visit each other via the inside hallways, so we’d play games like Uno, or Trivial Pursuit, or visit to chat and borrows stuff.
Time to light this Monday. Stay pos, be strong, and keep well. Here’s the music. More coffee, stat. Cheers
Sunday’s Theme Music
Mood: unenthusiastic
Sunday, 10/15/2023. 66 F now, 74 F later, sunny, bluish and grayish sky with some bleak, skulking clouds, blustery.
Based on symptoms and energy level, I apparently have a cold, which is shorting my energy. Guess it’s a cold: tired, scratchy eyes. Headache. Sore throat. Some sinus congestion. Good appetite, though. Sounds like a cold, doesn’t it?
Yes, it could be something else. This all started last week, on Wednesday. I tested negative for COVID yesterday.
In honor of my physical condition, The Neurons are playing the 1977 10cc song, “You’ve Got A Cold”, carrying it on in the afternoon after starting it in my morning mental music stream (Trademark strained). They may have tapped into something, right?
Stay positive and be strong. Here’s the video. Cheers
The Declaration
I'm an independent floof, and I go at my own speed, No matter what you plan to do, Nor where you need to be.
Whether you’re taking me for a walk, Or waiting for me to pee. Or I'm getting up from slumber, And demanding something to eat.
Even if I'm coming to see you, Or you're coming to see me, I'll select the gear I'll use, And establish the speed it'll be.
You'll soon learn from whatever I’m doing, Whether it’s sleeping in sunshine or in bed, Or getting petted or kissed, On my belly or my head.
Or sitting and chewing, Or flying or swimming, Or brooding and stewing, Or complaining and pooing.
Or staring and listening, At scary things in the night. Or walking and talking, And chasing things in flight.
Or meowing and purring, Or barking or squawking, Or kissing and squirming, Or running and stopping.
I can’t be ordered to make it fast, Nor told to slow down to make it last. You can try, but you can't change me. And though you keep trying, you'll eventually see.
When it comes to living and dying and all in between. No matter the activity or who gets involved, You have no choice, But to go with my flow.
So when I get going
— If I do —
I'll go at my own speed. And you will, too.
Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts
I’ve been thinking about spiders the last few days.
I don’t love or hate spiders; they’re another critter inhabiting the spectrum of our existence. I’ve been thinking abut them more because we don’t kill spiders in our household. We co-exist with a decent size population of them, including black widows. The biggest thing about all these spiders is that we end up with a lot of spider webs. I sometimes clean the webs away, which often displaces some. I don’t kill them as they run away from the cleaning, but I do apologize to them. No one likes being forced to move from their home.
Anyway, I turned on the kitchen light last night and headed for the sink. A windowsill rests just above the sink. A spider sitting on the window sill bolted away, as if I’d frightened them. About a quarter inch long, dark brownish with red legs, I don’t know what kind of spider they were.
Maybe the light spooked ’em, I thought, completing my task (which, not surprisingly, was washing the cats’ food bowls). Watching that spider tear along the window’s length prompted me to wonder again, how well does that spider see? I had the impression that despite eight eyes, they were running blind, maybe yelling, “Run away! Run away!”
Spider vision preoccupied me the night before. While cleaning away webs on the front porch, a spider dropped from the ceiling to the floor and scurried away. This was a ‘daddy long legs’. We have about seven hundred billion living around our house, I think.
That drop was about eight feet. Well, when the spider was dropping from the ceiling to the porch, did they have any idea of what was below them? Think about the courage that must entail. “Well, can’t stay here, gotta get out of here, so I’m just letting go. Wheee.”
Yes, I know that since they have so little weight and mass that they don’t have issues with gravity as we do, but still, dropping like that when you don’t know where you’re going?
Made me think of paratroopers in WWII.
Of course, on the other hand, spiders proably never learned to fear dropping to the ground. Not like us speaking before a crowd. Before we speak in a public gathering, we often absorb what people say about speakers. Lot of times, it’s mocking and casual insults. Listening to those things indoctrinates a fear of what they’ll say about us while we’re speaking, or how we might mess up and OMG, embarrass ourselves.
I conducted brief online research about spidey vision. Which reminds me; when Spiderman was created, why didn’t he grow eight eyes and eight limbs? How was he just limited to his spidey sense, making webs, and being a creepy crawler?
Articles I read about spiders confirmed what I suspected. Spider vision varies and often isn’t real great. Their hunting and nesting roles, along with their socializing skills and hunting style, guide their vision development and how the eight eyes generally function. (BTW, not all spiders have eight eyes.)
That spider may have kind of running blind, depending on those factors, but it was’t totally blind. Their running blind is more like if a human with vision problems who need corrective lenses might be running if they weren’t wearing those lenses.
Now I can imagine a spider with glasses sitting in a web, talking with another spider about how glasses improved their life.
Like other creatures, spiders present complicated and fascinating life form variations. I still don’t understand why they terrify so many people. Yes, they have venom and can bite and others can die from those bites but that’s not all of them.
I guess that’s another matter which I need to research.
