Wednesday’s Theme Music
Mottled gray nimbostratus clouds stretched across the valley from the mountains and ridges on this Wednesday. The clouds and news cycles leave me feeling gray and tired. It’s mid-week, too, the end of a wearying month, a week out from a trying week. My complaints are first world mutterings about losing friends, the weather, inflation, oh, and what will I do with myself today? It’s darker times for too, too many people. Damn, shouldn’t really write these things until I’ve had some coffee, done a Wordle and a Sudoku. Doing those always gives me a boost, as if successfully solving these silly games can be applied to life, to the world situations. I feel like the fool upon the hill.
It’s March 30, 2022, March’s penultimate day, then April takes the stage. I’m holding my breath to see what she might bring.
Sunrise kicked in at 6:57 AM and sunset will be at 7:34 PM. Temperatures have dipped again under the umbrella of rain ruling the area. The temperature is 46 and the high will be 56 F.
My dream mind was busy creating complex scenarios full of bright colors. I was not young in these dreams. Numbers were prominent features. Scribbling them out left my fingers knotted and my mind busy, trying to figure out WTF is going on in my head.
Of course, I’m writing. I’m in that stage of my novel writing process where scenes and ideas leap into the concept, which is still the broadest of sketchiest ideas. Thirteen characters are on hand, plus two cats and three dogs, and the ship. All of the characters have become someone other than expected when I sketched their basics in my head and documents. Like the muses are sticking their tongues out at me, taunting, “You don’t know anything.” They’re right. Every leap and change encountered makes me ask, “Wait, why.” They reply, “Just write. The answer will come.” I don’t know that I have that much faith or courage. Still, it’s an entertaining, satisfying, challenging, frustrating, exciting, despairing, exhausting process. I highly recommend it.
Hah. Had to break off writing this to attend a floof request. Immediately began writing in my head; the muses instantly said, okay, now this happens. I said, “WTF? Seriously?” Yeah, they answer. Yeah.
As you might imagine, the morning mental music stream is busy this AM, too. Looking out windows, thinking about writing, dreams, weather, mood, news, past, and future, I saw so many birds busy with spring rites. Jays, robins, sparrows, finches, wrens, crows were all energetic. Bit uplifting. Out of that morass came a Nelly Furtado song, “I’m Like A Bird” (2000). Where her song is about flying away and flying around, my thoughts are more about rising and falling with the beatings of wings, following a course when it seems like everything is a whim.
Stay positive, test negative — do you know this one? Good. Here’s the music. Excuse me while I see the coffee man for a fix.
Cheers
The Book Sales Dream
I was a young man, collecting and selling information on other people and on events. It started with two young women bemoaning the inability to learn something. I told them that I could do it. Then I did.
When I went around collecting information, it ended up taking the form of a thick hardback book. I showed them the book and then told them I’d sell it to the highest bidder. They were taken back — they’re the ones who suggested the information was needed, according to them — and thought I should just give them the book. I disagreed and said that wasn’t going to happen.
Rain started falling. I decided I needed a safe hideout. I found one side of a wooden crate leaning against a hillside. Pulling it aside, I saw a hole. I crawled through and found myself in a small living space. It was where I’d been living, I realized.
It stopped raining, so I left, taking my book with me. I went around, showing others and generating interest in it. People began offering me money. I wasn’t ready to sell.
My father appeared on the scene, telling me that I had to go to court. I wasn’t bothered by that, I would go to court and win. Dad was walking through a creek at that point. The water was low, just covering his feet, but muddy. The original two women were with him. I was back in a military uniform, following Dad. Note that in RL, he’d had a twenty-year career in the military, then I’d done the same.
I realized that I didn’t have a military hat, that I was outside and ‘uncovered’. That’s against reg and disturbed me. I asked Dad if he had a cap I could wear. He didn’t hear me, and I repeated the question several times before he said, “No,” and then told me that I didn’t need one.
Rain began falling anew. The two women started looking for cover and saw the opening to my place because I’d left my protective cover off. I didn’t want them to go in there. They were going enter but decided that it was too small. I then changed my mind and invite them in. I went in first, and then invited them in and showed them how large my space was. They agreed and then made me an offer on the book of data. It was a very large offer and made me grin in delight.
Dream end
Tuesday’s Theme Music
We’ve reached another milestone, a day that ends in ‘y’. This one is a Tuesday.
It’s March 29, 2022, for those of you playing calendar bingo. Sunrise came at — ta da! — 6:59 AM. Sunset will be at 7:33 PM.
A weak sunrise was experienced, one like a cup of tea made with a tea bag that’s already serviced a dozen cups as tattered rain clouds still harrumphed across the blue. We had a few stretches of steady rain yesterday, one bit of that which hit five on the Floof Scale. I always use the Floof Scale to measure precipitation. A five meant, find cover, it’s coming down. Ten is head for high ground and hang on.
Average spring temperatures remain the norm. The digits sit at 48 F now. We expect 67 F today. Back out to weed this afternoon.
Today’s music was brought on by yesterday’s writing session. I’d been finger dancing on a kb for a while as the muses whipped my back and urged more writing, faster. Stopping for a breath, I discovered the digits said it was almost four PM. The day had slid past in a word sprawl. The neurons, catching on to my surprise about the time, began singing, “Time, time, ticking, ticking away,” repeating that chorus. They were testing me, of course. “The Last Worthless Evening”, Don Henly, 1988, The End of the Innocence, I told my neurons. To reward me for getting it right, they started playing the song, and now it’s stuck in the morning mental music stream.
Stay positive, test negative, and remain alert to what’s going on. Here’s the music. I’m gonna go treat the neurons to a cuppa java. Cheers
Sopfloofrific
Sopfloofrific (floofinition) – An animal’s influence on making people sleep.
In use: “His dog and cat found him whenever he sat to read and climbed onto his lap, which became a sopfloofrific prelude to a nap.”
Inspirational Quote # 3303
Yes, keep going…and going…and going…
