A Writing Dream
I fell asleep in bed thinking about a scene. Those thoughts immediately transported me to a dream where I was at a desk, trying to type. I then rose from the desk and walked to the other room to get coffee. A noise distracted me, drawing me down a hall. The hall was considerably darker than the rest of the house, skinning me with edginess. I was questioning who was in there and whether it was safe to go down the hall. I looked for a suitable weapon but went on without anything.
Coming out from the other end of the hall, I was outside. Across the way, I saw three people. Two confronting a third. I took a few steps toward them, then halted with the realization that I was witnessing the scene I’d been writing. I moved closer to them, trying to hear, and then shifted. Suddenly, I was more akin to a camera, focusing on one person, moving in on close-ups, then flashing to another as the conversation bounced around.
At that point, I started awake. After parting my eyelids to anchor myself, I snuggled deeper. Darkness enveloped the bedroom. I was warm under the covers. My trusty sleepfloof, Tucker, drew up and rubbed his head on my exposed hand. I kept lethargically petting him, floating in and out of sleep and the dream, writing in my head, and writing in the dream. When I awoke this morning and remembered that, the sheer level of writing overwhelmed me. I’d completed that scene and go on to three others. The effort spent me, though. Trying to type it up, it all burst in on me. I typed fast, hanging on to words and moments, straining to keep up.
My brain feels overwhelmed. I need more coffee.
Saturday’s Theme Music
Saturday’s sunrise came at 7:50 AM, flashing sunlight at us for a second like a busy executive stopping by to say hello to the team before sprinting on to other matters. After that flicker of sunlight, clouds shrouded in charcoal moved in, sniffing with disdain, loosing a little drizzle, keeping the air cold. It’s 47 degrees F now but we’re optimistic that it’ll break 50 before the sun’s face turns away at 5:59 PM.
Today is November 6, 2021. That means we’re turning our clocks back tonight in most of the U.S. (Okay, technically, we do this at 2 AM on the seventh. But I’ll do it before going to bed, right?) So tomorrow’s sunrise will be an hour earlier. Sunset will also be an hour earlier: before 5 PM in my niche of season. But we do get that one extra hour to do things. I’ll use it for sleep, cats permitting. The cats don’t recognize daylight savings time and clock changes. They stay faithful to their inner workings. When they start clamoring for their first breakfast at 5:50 AM, it’ll now be 4:50 AM. Some adjustments will be required by them, and some coping by me.
Let’s not let all that stop us from rocking. The plan is to stay inside, warm and dry, except for a late-afternoon constitutional. Eat a little food. Drink a cuppa coffee. Maybe bake a pie. (Yes, that’s my new definition of ‘rocking’.) Meanwhile, “Somebody to Love” by Queen (1976) is circling the morning mental music stream. These words conjured this song:
I just gotta get out of this prison cell
One day (someday) I’m gonna be free, Lord!
h/t to AZLyrics.com
Those lyrics are firmly rooted in the ongoing limitations provoked by the COVID pandemic. I look forward to visiting coffee shops on a casual, recurring basis. On running down to the store without donning a mask. Visiting friends without querying them about vaccines, boosters, and pods. One day I’m gonna be free! Until then, I’ll remain cautious, wary, wearing a mask as needed, distancing, seeking the booster, and trying to remain positive.
Here’s the music, and right on schedule, here is my coffee. Let’s be safe out there. Cheers
Saturday’s Theme Music
Hear ye, hear ye, Saturday, October 16, 2021, is underway. Let the games begin.
Sunrise spanked us at 7:25 this morning in the valley. Warmer air dominates today. It’s already 56 and we expect a high of 79 degrees F. Should be a glorious autumn day before sunset takes place at 6:28 PM. Our air quality is stellar at a clear and fresh 10 as rain and cooler air helps us in the fight against wildfires. Containment is increasing. We take a breath of relief that another season has been survived. It has its costs, though, as wildfires destruction in 2021 in the U.S. is expected to cost between 70 and 90 billion dollars, along with lives lost.
I found myself walking around in circles this AM. Catering to cats, you know. Fickle felines. Want in, want out, want that food, this food, no, pet me, pet me, pet me, let’s go play! I did the feeding, a little ear and chin scratching, and then attempted to deal with my essentials — food and coffee. When all settled down I chuckled at hearing a song by Soul Coughing called “Circles” circling the morning mental music stream. The song was released in 1998. I probably wouldn’t be familiar with it but I had a friend and co-worker, Saba, who knew it. She’d already introduced me to the Squirrel Nut Zippers and Violent Femmes. Now, on a lunch run where she was driving, she called up “Circles” and introduced me to Coughing Soul.
So, here’s to Saba and her wonderful influence. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get a vax if you can. Enjoy the music while I ensure the dark deliciousness served as coffee. Cheers
Friday’s Theme Music
Good morning, fellow pumpkin spice heads. C’est moi, coming at you undead from Ashland, Oregon, in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. Today is Friday, October 15, 2021. Please set that to memory; you may be called upon to tell another later. Of course, being of retired military mind, the fifteenth was the middle-of-the-month payday during my working military life, when we, the enlisted, could rush out and buy groceries, gas up the car, and pay bills.
Sunrise was another glorious, steady rise of golden light, like a veil being pulled off night, that came at 7:23 AM. Temperature was a fur-chilling 40 F at that point. I know because the ginger boi, aka Meep, aka Papi, came in and told me, “Chilly out. Feel my fur.” Which I did, telling him, “Oh, your fur is cold.” He replied, “Meep, purr.” I assume that meant, I know. Sunset will come at, oh, 6:29 PM, according to the old farmer’s google. Temperatures will rise to the mid-fifties again, before falling into the high thirties after we’ve rotated away from the sun’s assistance. Such small windows of comfort, innit?
Today’s offering in my morning mental music stream comes from the Moody Blues and 1971. Yes, there is a line of lyrics involved. At some point yesterday, while in the snug discussing something, another something — a noise — from where? — who knows? — popped into our awareness. A what’s that, I don’t know, convo followed as we half-heartedly pursued the answer to this sound mystery. I mentioned at one point, “Listen. It sounds like it’s slowly turning.” After I’d walked away from that major, earth-shaking interruption to our routine, when I was in the kitchen, the song’s line, “Listen to the tide slowly turning,” whispered in my ears. The song then came on in full.
Of course, the progressive fusion of classical, folk, and rock that is “The Story in Your Eyes” aligns with my optimism. I often believe the tide is slowly turning. We’re slowly becoming less warlike. We’d probably make better progress in that were it not for the global defense industry and the need to make profits but killing others in the name of peace and security. Likewise, I’m always sure that the tide of justice, freedom, and equality is slowly turning, too. Someday, we’ll also unite to address climate change, right? Probably not until most of the lower ranks of people are standing up to their armpits in water, but I’m hopeful it’ll come before then.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, get the vax, sing a song, dance a little, laugh a lot, and have some fun. Here’s the music. Enjoy the photos of the band in their youth. My hot, black coffee is also here. Must drink it before it grows too cold. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 