The Mustang Dream

Dreamed my wife bought me a Mustang convertible as a surprise. Let’s get into it.

To start, it was night. I left the house and drove around with a friend in his Mustang. He had some special edition, white with fat blue stripes. As he drove, I realized we were in my current town, Ashland. Stopping in the street parallel to some apartments, he powered his window down. I was asking, “What are you doing?” Grinning, he responded, “Wait.”

What he was doing was using a remote control to open and close his trunk. He’d stopped parallel to another Mustang, which was doing the same thing. Behind my buddy’s car was another Mustang, white with blue stripes, doing the same thing. “It’s how we greet each other,” my friend said. I said, “I didn’t know there were so many Mustangs in this town.”

He dropped me off at my house, which wasn’t my RL place. It was now day. A light blue Mustang convertible with its top down was sitting in the driveway. The interior was dark blue. The car wasn’t new, but gently used. I went into the house to see who owned the car and my wife announced, “Surprise! I bought that for you.”

I had to leave to pick up friends, so I took the Mustang. I picked up friends from a military unit I served in, and we drove around. We weren’t in my town any longer, but a large city’s business district. I checked things on the Mustang and commented on it. I wondered about its price, too. I also kept going the wrong way down one-way streets. I’d catch myself almost immediately and then turn around, but it was embarrassing.

I dropped off friends and returned home. A woman was there. She said she was the car sales rep and wanted to know how I liked the car. As we talked, my wife joined me and the three of us walked over to the car dealership. I was ambivalent about keeping it — I didn’t know the mileage, the year, or the cost — and told all that. The dealership was closing. We all rushed to get out the doors before it did because we were worried that we’d be forced to stay overnight in the dealership. The rolldown doors were closed, but two workers raised them and slipped out, closing them behind them. I then did the same, holding the doors up for me and my wife to leave.

The dream ended.

March 18, 2022 0

Friday’s Theme Music

Welcome to Catday, Cat 18, 2022. Oh, wait, scratch it and start again. It’s Friday, March 18, 2022. Just feels like cat day because. Cats.

This was the night of three cats. It started, of course, with Papi. Two weeks ago, the young ginger was seriously sick. Well, he’s baa-aack. Got me up to let him in and out, in and out, throughout the night. That prompted sick cat to ask for food and attention, which was given, per the Foofneva Convention on the Treatment of Floofs. Through it all, head cat, Tucker, was a constant presence, monitoring it all so that he could report back to the FBI (Floof Bureau of Investigations) on what I did. Each time that I returned to bed, he joined me, rubbing his nose against my chin, nose, and fingers, ticking my cheeks with his whiskers.

Tucker also performed some impressive performance art this morning. Called ‘The Missing Bowl’, he sat between two bowls of food before the space where a third bowl should be and stared straight down at the empty space caused by the missing bowl. It was so moving that I moved one of the other bowls to the empty space. Satisfied that his art had delivered his message, he ate.

The sequence of waking, rising, and returning to bed multiple times did provide opportunity to notice the moon. It was like a spotlight was shining against the blinds. At 5:45, I opened one to ensure that the police weren’t spotting the house with a bright light (be like the cats to call the cops as a prank). Lo, an almost full moon blazed in the southwestern indigo sky. Just a small slice off the bottom stalled its right to be called a full moon. Its clarity was sharp. I could see seas and plains, and so stayed a few minutes to admire it before closing my eyes and falling asleep standing there. I awoke with Tucker rubbing his face on my toes.

Sunrise came at 7:18 later that morning, and sunset is expected at 7:21 PM. Temperatures were cold during the night. We’re up to 37 F now and a high of 65 is forecast. Clouds are milling like people waiting for the doors to open and the sun is struggling to shine.

The neurons have dug out a 1996 song by Better Than Ezra called “Desperately Wanting”. The moon inspired the neurons. Or, the scene really, because I thought the grass looked damp out there, and then remembered, “running through the wet grass” as a child. A neuron jumped up and shouted, “I know that song,” and here we are.

I was going to go to a coffee house this morning to write, the first time in a while that I have, but I’m tired. We’ll see after I have a cuppa coffee. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, when needed, and get the vax and boosters. Here’s the music. Cheese. I mean, Cheers

March 18, 2022 0

March 17, 2022 0

March 17, 2022 0

Flooftortion

Flooftortion (floofinition) – The skill of bending and twisting one’s limbs body into strange and unnatural positions to accommodate actions or functions associated with an animal.

In use: “Once he opened a can, the floofs were right there, waiting to be fed, underfoot, forcing him into flooftortions to avoid stepping on them or tripping over them as their meal was delivered.”

March 17, 2022 1

The Designing Dream

First, a woman and I each were given a task to design a swimming pool. This was done in a wide building with low lights. I couldn’t see anything except our work. We each built one but came up with the same L design in off-white. We built them quickly. Along the way, we had lessons in ensuring seams were smooth and tight. Then it came time to fill it. I rolled a suitcase up to one side, inside the pool, jockeying it around on its wheels until I thought it perfectly parked. I then opened the suitcase and began pulling out clothing. I examined each piece, ensuring it was neatly folded, then piled the clothes around me. The clothes piles multiplied like rabbits during breeding season.

That segment ended. I was told that I need to come up with a new ear canal. I quickly devised one, put it in someone’s ear, then walked into it. The ear canal was straight, round, and light blue, but tapered as it went in, ending in the ear drum. “Oh,” I said, inspecting it. “It shouldn’t go straight back to the ear drum like that. The ear drum is left too exposed. Curves are needed to protect it.” Developing curves, the ear canal grew light pink. I backed out of it until I was standing beside a man looking into his ear.

A new segment began. I was at my aunt’s house. She’d had a new place designed and built, she said, effusively greeting me amid charming smiles. Many cousins were present, not just from that aunt, but from all my uncles and aunts on Dad’s side. I was about twenty. They were all eager to impress me and show me around. The setting seemed luxurious. Arched stained-glass windows lined the walls, along with paintings in gold frames. Dark green houseplants were everywhere. Dark green carpeting, and overstuffed leather chairs and a sofa arranged polished, dark wood end tables and coffee tables completed the setting. I could see into other rooms as well, glimpsing a long, polished dining table, part of a modern kitchen, and the side of a billiard table through an open doorway.

A cousin said, “Let me show you around.” In RL, this is a man who was four years younger than me, who died years ago, passing away in his forties from a heart attack as a pizza was delivered to him. This aunt wasn’t his mother, either; her youngest sister was the deceased cousin’s mother.

I asked where a specific room is. He answered, “That’s downstairs.” Seeing a staircase that went down, I confidently headed for it.

He caught up with me and asked, “What are you doing?”

I said, “You said that it was downstairs.”

“You can’t get to it from those stairs. Follow me.” He turned and led me up a staircase to an open area above everything. Looking down, I saw people with drinks engaged in conversations and milling about the rooms. My cousin pointed to another flight of stairs going down. “That’s how you get down.”

I said with some wonder, “You need to go up to get down?” I thought that was a strange design.

My aunt appeared beside me and nodded with a smile. “You need to go up to get down.”

The dream ended.

March 17, 2022 2

Thursday’s Theme Music

7:20 and 7:20 is when the sun will rise and set. We’ve achieved an equal number of hours on either side of sunrise and sunset. Guess it’s the vernal equinox in our valley, though the calendar says that today is Thursday, March 17, 2022. Spring doesn’t ‘arrive’ until this Sunday. But here we are, 44 F, with a projected high of 60, everything coming up green, blossomy, and flowery.

It was a dreamorama night but I awoke with Jerry Orbach singing “Try to Remember” in the morning mental music stream. That only lasted for about ten minutes before the neurons got up and changed the music to Billy Joel and “Only the Good Die Young” from 1977.

“Why’d you put that on?” I asked the neurons.

They shrugged.

“What’s that mean?” I asked.

They shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Guess I’d run into some teenaged neurons.

Anyway, that’s the theme music. I believe my convo with sick cat inspired the neurons. Cancer is turning his demise into the long goodbye. Many folks say, end his misery, but he comes to me for purrs, demands food and gamely eats, sleeps against my leg, and generally gets around with too much life in the tank for me to drain it. He’s probably in pain but I don’t think he’s ready to go. I think he’ll let me know when he’s done.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, if needed, when needed, and get the shots. I’m getting the coffee. I would offer to get you some but you’re on the other side of this screen. Have a better one.

Cheers

March 17, 2022 1

Floofarm

Floofarm (floofinition) – Medical condition where an arm becomes stiff, sore, or numb because of the unwillingness to move it because of an animal. Related: Floorleg, flooffoot, floofbutt

In use: “Despite a serious case of floofarm setting in (and getting ravenous and having a bladder screaming for sweet release), Rikki refused to move because she didn’t want to disturb the puppy napping in her arms.”