Category: Dreams

A World War I Dream

I was a young US Army officer. I knew that WWI had ended a year or more before. As a lieutenant, I was strangely working alone. I’d come upon the wreckage of a country road that curved and went up and down a hill. I thought, if anyone is to use this road for any purpose, they’ll not be able, because it’s in a horrible state. The asphalt was torn up and debris littered the path, hindering any sort of swift passage. I took it upon myself to fix it, ordering others to bring me different types of materials and directing them to clear things away. When the materials were brought to me, I’d throw it on the ground, then jump on it to break it up, shuffle it into place with my shoes, and stamp it down. It was a remarkably effective process. I quickly had a flat, clear road. Both aspects pleased and astonished me.

A young woman, who was an Army captain, but who resembled my real life wife as a young woman, came along and inquired about what I was doing. I was almost finished by then. Seeing her, I was instantly smitten; I could see my feelings were reciprocated. Weirdly, she was dressed in gray sweat clothes, but I knew she was an Army captain. Affecting modesty, I bragged that I was fixing and improving the road for future use, suitably impressing her that I’d made that choice but that I was also doing it so well. A general officer and his staff came along in a jeep. They stopped to admire my work. The general asked, who was responsible. I claimed credit. He made a little speech about intelligent and motivated young men like myself being the country’s future. Then they drove off.

In a strange detour, the dream changed perspective. My dream camera focused first on a small crab in shallow water. I knew from watching it that it had become infected with something. My dream camera then showed a young woman in black clothing and back open-toe sandals come down. She stepped into the water. The infected crab crept into her shoe.

The dream perspective changed back to me. I was watching that young woman. She was now walking on the road that I’d fixed. I said to others with me, “She’s ill. We need to help her before it’s too late.” She collapsed, unconscious, at that moment. We rushed to her. As I bent to help her, I yelled at others to call for help. No one moved at first. I demanded more insistently that one of them call 911. He began looking around for a phone. With increasing exasperation, I told him to use his cell phone. He finally pulled it out and called 911. Help was already arriving, but the woman was dead and blue. Standing, I told the others, this is a warning, that we need to be vigilant because an infection is spreading.

Dream end.

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So Many Dreams

One of the dream snippets that punctuated today’s conscious film was about soldiers and jaguars.

My wife and I were walking through a green park. We’re looking to the right where large men dressed in military field uniforms are gathered. It’s not a large contingent. They’re behind a sort of flimsy barricade made of aluminum or some other light material. We’re trying to figure out what they’re doing over there. As we slow and watch, we realize there are jaguars among the soldiers. I’m talking the feline beast. Some of these are large adults. Most of the jaguars are dressed in little jackets around their torsos. These jackets are either turquoise and gold, or purple and gold. The jaguars are on leashes. The soldiers hold the leashes.

We — my wife and I — are saying, “What on Earth?” Why would the military have jaguars? Why are the animals dressed like that? Neither of us have ever heard or seen anything like it. As we’re slowly resuming our walk through the park, but still watching, a jaguar breaks free of the enclosure and handler and rushes toward us. This jaguar is young, though. Small and cute, like a kitten the size of a Maine coon cat. A leash trails behind it. It hurries toward us as we stop and bend toward it, smiling and laughing because it’s so cute. As it gets closer, it becomes confused and wary. Slowing, the animal pauses, then thinks about going in another direction. Meanwhile, a large black soldier, grinning and laughing, jogs up, apologizing about his new cat getting away from him.

Dream end.

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The Kiss Dream

No, it wasn’t the group, nor the song. I was in my apartment in a high rise, a lovely place, plain with white walls. A short white blonde woman in a purple dress was there, a dream friend, but not anyone I know. She and others had been visiting my wife and were now saying their good-byes. We were in the bedroom. My wife was in the other room. The woman said, “Kiss me, quick.” So I did. Then I heard my wife coming and broke it off.

It was a great kiss, though. Stayed on my mind, fulfilling some desire that I had for the other woman. A short while later, there’s a knock on our door. One of the women has returned. She talks to my wife, leading her into another room. As she does, the woman in purple and three other friends rush in and slip into the bedroom.

I go in. They’re laughing and whispering. I ask, “What are you doing?” They answer, “We came back to kiss you.” Each gives me a quick peck. They also play grab ass with me. I’m responding, “Are you crazy?” They hear my wife coming and hide under the bed, which is unmade.

My wife comes in with another female friend, the one who knocked on the door. I realize that she’s in on it. My wife says that she came over to borrow a video to watch. She wants something funny. I begin going through small stacks of VHS tapes, telling her what’s in there that we can loan her, but it’s all educational films.

She and my wife leave the room. The woman in purple appears beside me and says, “I just want to grab another kiss from you.” I answer, “I want to grab more than that.” We begin kissing and fondling one another.

Dream end.

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An Odd Dream – Work, Car, and Cat

Yes, another odd dream.

First, I had an odd job as some sort of quality assurance or quality control inspector. Those dream job details never cleared enough for me to figure out. Guess it wasn’t important.

I was working in a small, old building where a business was undergoing renovation. It had been a coffee shop. Coffee drinks were still available, so I was happy with that as I walk around with my clipboard, observing and scribbling notes. The business owner, a man, was there, talking about the planned changes. He was in high spirits; so was I, and the few other people in there. When the business owner mentioned that he needed some minor help, I happily volunteered.

Then I learned that he wasn’t going to re-open his business as a coffee shop but as a fitness center. He went around enthusing where equipment would be located, where different fitness stations would be, fitness services that he would be offering. Well, good for him, but…I wanted my coffee shop. I was disappointed.

Meanwhile, my wife came by. She said that our car, a Volkswagen Beetle, wasn’t uninsured, but she was waiting for a call that would take care of that. (Please note, I’ve never owned a Beetle.) I was like, okay. She left again, errands to run. I continued my vague inspection job.

The business owner mentioned that he needed a car, did anyone have one that he could borrow? I offered my VW. As he thanked me, he told me that he would be driving to another part of the city, but he would be back later, if that was okay. Remembering that the car wasn’t insured, I asked with surprise, “You’re going to drive it?” He answered, “What else would I do with a car?” And laughed.

I didn’t want him to drive the car because it wasn’t insured. However, I wanted to help him. I questioned him. Would he be careful? Has he ever had an accident? What kind of driver was he?

My wife returned. She reminded me not to use the car because it wasn’t insured. I prepared to tell her that I’d loaned it out when someone came by and told me the owner wasn’t going to use it after all.

Then, though, came word that our dog was loose. (Please note, I’ve never had a dog.) I joined my wife out in a woody, muddy field, looking for our dog. As we walked around, looking, she started calling a name. The name was of a cat who passed away twenty years ago. I asked her, “Are we looking for a dog or a cat?”

She didn’t answer, going off. I was convinced we were looking for a lost cat and not a dog. I started calling the dead cat’s name as I walked through a meadow. Another cat came running across the meadow with its tail up, meowing at me. It didn’t resemble the dead cat at all, but I knew it was my pet. The deceased animal was a short-hair gray tabby, and the approaching cat was white with a torti ear and matching torti tail. Before the cat reached me, I turned and stepped back into the coffee shop under renovation to answer some questions about my work.

Dream end

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Heavy Dreams

First was a dream about my feces. Yes, a little disgusting. Yet, intriguing. Probably only to me.

I’d completed a bowel movement in the dream. Then spoke to my wife — who was in the kitchen, cooking in this dream — saying, “Hey, look how my feces came out to the left.” She looked but didn’t comment. I continued, “And it’s sticking to the side of the toilet in the bowl.”

Which it was. She and I were able to see it like that because the toilet wasn’t in a bathroom. No; just sitting in the room which was part of the living room/dining room combo. No walls around it. No sinks or tubs. Then I was like, why is the commode like that? There was no cistern, no seat. Just the throat and bowl, leaving me to go, huh. Also, I wondered, why didn’t the feces flush away?

Then…went through the exact same sequence again. Like my brain was looping the dream on repeat.

But then…I began it again, then realized, wait, didn’t I already point this out to her? Yes, I had, I was sure. For it to happen once was bizarre, twice was disturbing, but three times was mystifying. I went over and inspected the toilet closer and noted that it was beside a hallway with steps leading down the front door. Dream end.

Next, though, it got a little weirder. I’d awakened at 4:15. Got up to pee. Was suddenly shocked by recollection of another dream.

I’d gone to sleep thinking about the nasty skunk smell, wishing the skunks would go away. In the dream, I’d gotten out of bed and walked through the house bellowing, “BE GONE.” As I did that, I was thrusting out my hands. Which pushed out energy waves that purged the house.

The dream had been so strong and real that what startled me was the thought, how did I get back to be?

Enough about dreams. There were at least two others recalled but I need to move on to other things.

As a side note, having WordPress issues today. Like, had to start over on this post because WP wouldn’t let me put in a title. Then, it added a line which will not go away.

The day has to get better.

Cheers

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A Ragtag Dream

I was staying in a disheveled sort of place, a ramshackle series of hotels connected to a large, decrepit aircraft hangar. The hangar was white; the hotels were pale green and light pink. A number of friends and my wife were there. We seemed like refugees trying to pull it together and move on.

Activities were taking place in all of the hangar. One person with us was S, a short, energetic woman who’d been an office manager where I’d worked. S and I met up by an aircraft in the hangar. The jet was something like a 737. We planned to take it to leave. But before we could board, S said, “We need to have all the rivets sealed.” She had a rag and some stuff. Showing them to me, she went on, “A little of this needs to be rubbed on each one.”

Looking up at the aircraft, I answered, “We would need to start at the top and work our way down, section by section.”

S said, “It needs to be done in about an hour. Can you organize people and get this done?”

I replied, “Sure, okay.”

She thanked me. We parted.

After we walked away, I thought, we don’t need to do that. That’s overkill. I’ll talk to S about that.

I kept going. I saw some other friends just arriving. They had some clothes. I recognized the clothes as some stuff I’d left behind. They were returning them to me.

But we didn’t meet up. I needed to get back to my room to get my wife ready to go. As I wend through people across the hangar to my hotel section, I saw another pile of my clothes on the cement floor and scooped them up to wear, then went to the room.

My wife was still in bed. I roused her. Our room was small and cramped, with a bed and a tiny bathroom. She was confused about what was to happen. I went about, explaining it to her while packing. She climbed out of bed; she was wearing gray pajamas. As she started moving and looking for clothes, she went into the bathroom. In there, I saw a huge cobweb with a dead mosquito eater hanging in it. I pointed it out to her, saying, “That’s been here the whole time that we’ve been here.”

She agreed, then as she moved around it, we saw other, larger ones.

We exited the bathroom. She said, “I need to think.” She took out four small gray rectangles from a bag, then set them on the floor, spacing them about four feet from one another. I didn’t know what she was doing.

Bending to the first one, she pressed a button on it. Music began playing. She repeated this with the next two. I recognized the music with each. She began dancing and singing to the music coming from the third. It was an old pop song by Abba, “Dancing Queen”. Then she moved to the fourth and pressed its button. She stopped dancing and singing, listening. I realized that it was playing “Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen and sang along with it. She seemed unable to hear the music and stood listening.

Dream end.

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The Beard Dream

From last night’s plethora of dreams, one remained nailed in consciousness throughout the day. It was all about dealing with a beard. Yes, facial hair.

I was a young guy. Looked much different than my RW appearances. Was taller. Stockier, with a barrel chest. Much less hair and swarthier skin. Things were going on around me but I was in front of a sink of water and a mirror, with a single light over it. It was almost like a stage. People going around me would ask a question. I’d usually say, “Just a minute. Let me finish my beard.”

I was trying to find a beard that I liked. First, I shaved it all down really short. Very dark beard. We’re talking black ink. I examined myself and was dissatisfied. I shaved different swaths through the beard, trimming it back so it covered less of my face. Then, thinking I’d gone too far, I said, “No, I want more beard.” I dipped my hands in the sink of water. Raised the water to my face and spread it. Instant beard. Although I’d done it, I was surprised, saying to myself, “Oh, if that’s all it takes.”

Then I found that I could also erase the beard by just using the water. So I quit shaving or trimming it and instead dipped my fingers in the water and added or reduced the beard as desired until I found the look I liked. After a minute of appraisal in the mirror, turning my head back and forth, I announced, “Good,” and turned off the light.

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The Spy Dream

I’d arrived in a foreign country, traveling as part of a group of men, except for one pre-pubescent boy. We were white, except for one black. I was neither leader nor follower. We dressed down a little, in jeans or khakis, and shirts or sweaters, as American tourists. We were going through a large gift shop and museum, killing time, stalling, building our cover. Every now and again as we walked around, I’d look out the large plate glass windows at a flat, featureless landscape under a flat diluted gray sky. Small features, hints of tall buildings and industrial smokestacks, hinted at the world. A few lonely black birds winged through the sky.

Inside, we walked around, gawking like tourists, murmuring at displays of giant stuffed brown bears, cut geodes, and pieces of fossils, evidence of the life that was here before humans took over and dominated. I remember bending down to the young boy to point out a display about a volcano that once erupted in the region.

Then, time for us to move on. We separated. I got into a rental car and drove down a wide, empty road, again killing time until we were to rendezvous. At this point, it becomes a little obscure. I drove across a large, arched bridge to an intersection and parked off to one side by a food truck. I went to the blue food truck where I purchased two chicken sandwiches in flat bread from a swarthy, friendly man. Ice covered the chicken on the sandwich. I met with a small, blond woman and furtively explained to her my theory that the sandwiches being sold at the truck were being used to pass code between foreign agents.

I returned to my car to await the rendezvous, holding onto the sandwiches as my evidence. But I was hungry, so I heated one up on the car’s heater. After tasting it, I thought it was warm enough and was pretty good, so I ate one, and then, as I was still hungry, heated up and began heating the second one. But then I realized that I needed to hold onto it as evidence, so I stopped after two bites. Examining that sandwich, I concluded that I still have the evidence.

Dream end.

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A Cat Dream

I was at some way station among people who I know, including a young child. It was a cozy place, a little dim inside, rain beating against tall narrow windows, mild rain battering them. A crowded place. Tables, overstuffed chairs, bookcases, brook stone fireplaces with fires going. Noisy.

Meanwhile, I’m giving the little girl a gift: a small cat. This cat is purple, white, gray, and pink. Really sweet little critter. About ten pounds. Of greatest interest, the cat has a set of controls in its side. See, the cat is a radio. It’s a live animal and it’s also a radio. I’m telling her, “Look at this. Listen.” Showing her the controls. But you can also lightly tap the cat to increase the volume, or tap it in another place to change the song.

The little girl is fascinated. Runs off. Comes back. Time and again as the cat hangs with around me, rolling around on the ground, being petted.

But there’s more! Besides the little cat, there’s a larger, almost identical purple-white-gray-pink radio cat. This one is much larger: forty to fifty pounds. And not as friendly. Or playful.

I’m playing with the little one. It’s on its back. I’m about to rub its belly. The little girl comes running up. “No! Don’t rub its belly! It doesn’t like to have its belly touched.”

I’m petting the belly, though. The little one makes a distressed meow. The big one comes running over through the crowd. Gives me an angry look and some serious tail switching. I leave off petting the little one, who gets up and rubs against me.

It’s time for me to go. I get up and dust off, look for the door, and make my way across the room.

Dream end.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Good morning, peeps. Today is Wednesday, October 13, 2021 in our slice of the valley. Rain is descending. Began last night and just was having so much fun, it kept going. Not heavy rain. Sporadic. Sprinkles to light, you know?

Temperatures are hovering in the mid-forties right now. Expect to flutter toward the mid-fifties before winding down to a cold 34 F for the night. With those brooding, swollen clouds out there, don’t expect much sun relief. Sunrise petered in at 7:21 AM. Sunset comes at 6:32 PM.

Heavy dream play for me last night. Vignettes that danced with memories, leaving me with fading thoughts about things that happened before and questions about what happened to different childhood friends. One of them was John. Haven’t seen him since I was sixteen. He and I hung out all the time between the ages of twelve and fifteen. Then just moved away from one another like a magnet’s polar opposites.

But he’s responsible for today’s morning mental music stream. He brought my attention to a song called “Leader of the Pack” by the Shangri-Las. The song came out in 1964 but John and I were probably talking about it a few years after that. He didn’t care for the song. No; he said, “That sucked.” What John liked was the motorcycle sounds imbued in the music. Early signs were emerging that he was destined to be a motorhead. I later heard through friends and family that he’d moved to North Carolina and opened up a garage. Get the picture?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Let’s be safe out there. Now. Need to see a machine about a cup of coffee. Here’s the music. Enjoy.

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