Category: food

The Food Offer Dream

Dreams last night were like I was watching through a kaleidoscope. Not much stayed with me.

One section I remember was a stylish, older woman asking me if I’d eaten. Post Malone’s song, “Circles”, played in the background. We were in a très modern house. Before I could answer her, she said, “You look as if you’re famished. We have very good food here.”

Before I replied — I was thinking that I’d politely turn her down — a tall white man with gray hair and matching goatee entered from another hall, to my right. She introduced him as my chef and said that he would feed me. The man said, “Yes, I make wonderful food, everyone says so. Tell me, what would you like to eat?” He was not dressed as a chef, but wore a black shirt under a light gray sport coat.

At that point, I said, “I’m not hungry,” but the woman at the same time said, “I’ll leave you two to it.” She left.

The man said, “Here, come this way, my kitchen is just here.”

I said, “I’m not hungry.”

We rounded a corner. A large kitchen was to the left. Dark, glistening counters were filled with plates of food. The man gestured toward them. “What would you like? Just help yourself. If you don’t see anything that you want, I can make it for you.”

I was still taking in the food. Besides the kitchen, a breakfast bar was covered with food. Past that was a well-lit dining room, with a table and buffet heaped with food. I saw roasts, turkeys, grapes, and bowls of fruit.

The man said, “Are you a person who likes to stand up or sit down when you eat?”

The segment ended.

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Another that I remember was a montage of my late mother-in-law saying, “I suppose.” That was like her catchall phrase. Do you want to eat? Would you like Chinese food? Do you mind if we do x and x? To almost every query, she replied, “I suppose.” That’s all the dream segment was: her saying, in various ways, at different ages and settings, “I suppose.”

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Crumbs

Crumbs populated his keyboard, slipping between the keys, forcing him to ponder, what did I eat and when did I eat it?

That made him hungry. He attempted to pick some crumbs up for closer examination, and perhaps to taste — just for investigative reasons, of course (that one looked like it may have come off a chocolate-chip cookie) (when did he eat a chocolate chip cookie?) -but the crumbs fled his efforts like kittens scattering at a noise, undermining his investigative process.

It did promote a greater appetite (if he trusted the messages that his stomach was issuing). Nothing healthy was offered for sale here, and he didn’t want to leave to eat somewhere else. Therefore, his logic forced him into a less healthy choice, which turned out to be a raspberry scone.

It was just a one-time deal, he told himself, so it would do no lasting harm.

He blamed it on the crumbs.

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The Friends & Neighbors Dream

As the dream starts, my wife and I are in bed. I’ve awakened but she’s asleep. Gray light slipping through the upper windows makes me believe that it’s early morning. Cats are up and want fed. I oblige.

My neighbor comes in. I’m surprised and confused, wondering how he got in and why he’s there now. He’s apologizing for his behavior (no, not for coming in, but for other things). Not invested in that at the moment — it’s early, I haven’t had my coffee, and the cats are clamoring for attention — I basically try to dismiss him and get him back out. Then he asks to use our bathroom because his girlfriend is asleep in his place and he doesn’t want to wake her. I work out with a glance around that ‘his place’ is a door off the my living room. I don’t understand that arrangement at all. Concluding that his girlfriend is asleep in there, I close the door. He comes out of my bathroom, goes over, and opens that door again, explaining that he needs to keep an eye on her.

My wife awakens and joins me. I attempt to explain what’s going on, but things are becoming more chaotic by the second. Sunshine is streaming through the windows. I’m hungry. I go to find food. Before I can, others interrupt me.

The next thing I know, I’m outside of the house in a hilly, bushy terrain, and I’m putting up signs. They’re simple signs, white heavy cardboard on slender pieces of pointed, cut wood. I don’t know what the signs say; they seem to change as I look at them. Sometimes, I find that the signs that I’ve put up have been pulled out of the ground or aren’t there, exasperating the hell out of me. It’s like I’ll never finish.

Meanwhile, I notice that there’s food under bushes and trees — pancakes, wraps, burritos, sandwiches. Debating about whether I should pick them up as garbage, I decide to leave them there for animals to eat. As I continue rushing around, putting up signs, I encounter friends. None of these people is anyone that I know. Some complain that when I’m putting up signs, I’m in their way. They want me to move. I protest, why should I be the one to move? I need to put up these signs. Yes, I’m told, but it’s easier for you to pause, move aside, and let us go on, and then resume. I agree, just to end the stalemate.

I notice that the food under the bushes isn’t being touched. I thought birds or animals would’ve tone after it, then shrug it off.

My hunger has increased. Hearing music, I realize that a Beatles song is playing. As the melody flows, I recognize “With A Little Help From My Friends”. I don’t know where it’s coming from. Setting the signs aside, I think, I am so hungry, I  must find something to eat. As I do, a woman at a neighboring house opens her front door and steps out onto her porch. “I’m making spaghetti,” she declares in a loud voice. “Who wants some?”

“I do,” I answer as others say, “Me.” We rush her house.

The dream ends.

 

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The Déjà Vu Dream

I believe it was a dream. But —

I often enjoy oatmeal for breakfast. Berries, fruit, and nuts are frequently added for taste and nutrition.

A large bag of walnut pieces is kept in the refrigerator (so they won’t go rancid). As I pulled them out, I flashed on the bag falling open. Walnut pieces poured out.

Standing there, I didn’t recall anything like that happening to me, and thought that it was a dream. It seemed so startling real that I looked around to see if any walnuts were in the refrigerator or on the floor.

I remembered then that I’d been talking to someone as I was doing this. Music had been playing in the background. I was aware of the music and recognized it but I don’t know what it was now.

So many walnuts poured out of the back, it seemed like half of the bag had emptied. Yet, when I closed the bag, I was surprised to discover it was still almost full. But the refrigerator drawer had enough walnuts in it to fill another bag.

Whoever was with me hadn’t noticed anything going on, so I said, “Look at this. Look at all these walnuts.”

They asked, “Where’d they come from?”

Holding up the bag, I said, “From this bag. But the bag is still almost full.”

The other came over and looked. “Yeah, that’s something.”

End of dream (or memory).

I am about ninety percent certain that it was a dream. Thinking about it as I finished making my oatmeal, I chuckled to myself. Was I telling myself that I was nuttier than I realized?

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After I typed this out, I saw a photo of a squirrel on the net. The photo triggered a fuller memory. The walnut incident was a dream last night.

After the walnuts had spilled out, etc., the dream continued. I’d gone outside. Two cats were present. One was ours and the other belonged to a neighbor. (Neither are cats that I know/recognize from life.)

My wife and I were trying to keep ourselves safe, along with the cats. To that end, the cats were kept in a  large and hilly fenced yard with many trees, but the cats kept getting out. I kept asking, “How are these cats getting out?” Watching them, I’d discover a secret path or a hole in the fence and block it only to see them out there again, and discover that another secret way existed.

The neighbor’s cat then came in through a secret tunnel with a squirrel in their mouth. The squirrel was alive. I then noticed the yard had many squirrels. I concluded that the cat was going out, finding squirrels, capturing them, and bringing them in. As I realized this, I saw her coming in through another underground tunnel, carrying another squirrel in her mouth.

I told my wife what I was seeing. Then, remembering the walnuts, I rushed inside, got the bag of walnuts, and brought them out to feed the squirrels.

Dream ended.

 

 

 

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The Cookies

“The cookies are easy to make,” she told Cindy after sharing the recipe with her. “You should make them when your grandchildren come up. They came up. It’d be fun.”

“Good idea. I will.”

A few days later, Barb ran into Cindy. “We made the cookies,” Cindy said.

“And…?”

“They burned.”

“What?”

“Tell me the recipe again.”

“You start with tortillas and cut them out with cookie cutters.”

“I did that.”

“Then you put them on the baking sheet and brush them with butter.”

“Butter! You didn’t mention butter.”

“I think I did…but, after you brush them with butter, you dust them with cinnamon and sugar.”

“Sugar! You didn’t say anything about sugar.”

“Do you want me to send you an email with the recipe?”

“No, I’ll have my son-in-law find them for me.”

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Solstice Celebration

2019 Solstice celebration at my house in photos, including two (of the three) wise cats who attended (Papi, aka Meep – the ginger boy, and Tucker, the black and white).

Food – not shown – included spinach tortellini soup (makes me hungry to have more just typing it) and lentil, along with a variety of breads (including my favorite, an olive ciabatta bread). Dessert included gluten free apple pie (procured from a local store) and a chocolate yule log (from Market of Choice). Drinks were spiced wassail (with or without rum or brandy), and red or white wine, with coffee, tea, and hot chocolate served with dessert.

The log was burned in a fire pit in the backyard. My spouse, the woman in blue in one photo, is the force behind it. Cheers

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A Noble Coffee House

I’ve been coming to Noble’s for a few weeks at this point. It’s a damn fine place. Larger community tables have outlets nearby, what we regulars (yeah, I’m a regular now) call a power table. Besides those tables are many tables that seat two to four. Conversation pits with sofas, easy chairs, and rockers offer comfortable options for chatting with friends.

Located among a few other businesses on the bottom of Fourth Street where it meets A Street at the bottom of the hill, still downtown but away from the Plaza, Noble’s is larger than other Ashland coffee shops, with space for fifty to sixty without too much problem (and there are days when it’s been packed). Large windows along one wall deliver delightful natural light but well-placed and assorted light fixtures (no fluorescent, thanks) help minimize shadows. And, for those who wish, several outside tables (on the sidewalk) give more seating and visiting options.

Coffee is very good to excellent. They offer two fresh options every day. My preference is a dark blend called Daydream. It’s all those thing you hear about in coffee commercials, like smooth, robust, and flavorful. I might have had an orgasm the first time I drank some.

Not surprising. Nobles uses fair-trade, organic coffee. The owner/operators go on buying and picking trips a few times per year. See that glass door in the corner? If you look in it, which they encourage, you’ll see their coffee roaster. Yes, it’s all roasted and ground on site.

Besides appealing, fresh coffee, tasty pastries like scones, muffins, and croissants (savory (like ham and cheese) or sweet (like chocolate)) will satisfy your peckishness. I’ve had the gluten-free pumpkin scone (baked in the kitchen in the back) three times (for quality purposes, of course), and tried the blueberry gf muffin twice. Now I need to talk myself out of buying one (or something else) every time I come. They’re addictive, I’m telling you. You’ve been warned.

Friendly baristas serve it up, the final touch on a proper coffee place. Come along. It’s a good place to meet with friends, take an energy break, study, read, or write a book.

 

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Floofganic

Floofganic (floofinition) – Food specifically made and intended for animals, especially pets.

In use: “Every day, she treated her pets to a little locally produce floofganic fish stew with veggies. All lapped it up (except the bird, who always mocked it).”

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Floofmuda Triangle

Floofmuda Triangle (floofinition) – A triangular area created by three animals into which things seem to mysteriously disappear.

In use: “She sat down in her recliner to enjoy a snack and some Netflix. The dog and two cats immediately formed a floofmuda triangle. Anything dropped was going to disappear fast.”

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