Category: Information

The Five Incidents Dream

I was back in the military. The dream featured people I worked with from several units.

It began with an incident involving a major who had a handgun. This was morning. The duty day was just starting. I was a senior non-commissioned officer. I was walking through the HQ building with a cup of coffee. The major had spent part of the previous night threatening to shoot someone, incorporating a real incident that once took place. He’d been protecting himself, he told everyone. In the dream, I was involved because the commander walked by. As he did, he told the major, “Brief him on the incident. Make sure he’s aware.” He pointed to me. Then he told me, “I want you up to speed on this.” The commander went on.

No problem, I understood. That was part of how things were done. The major explained to me how he’d felt driven to defend himself by things he heard and saw. I had the gun removed from him and went on. Another pair of people found me. They’d been involved in a confrontation over suspected adultery. They’d been told to come and tell me about it so I could counsel them on what to do. As the day progressed, I was approached by others with things which had happened.

Several hours had passed. There were now four incidents involving eight people reported: the major with the gun; a couple accusing one another of cheating; some missing money and theft; and a fight over presumed insults and mocking. I suddenly realized that this wasn’t happenstance. Someone was coordinating pieces of misinformation to orchestrate confrontation, which resulted in division and distrust, and distracted us. By now, it was almost the duty day’s end. I went about, collecting the people who’d been involved so that I could specifically warn them that they would probably hear or see something else overnight to further anger, frighten, or confuse them, because someone was using them and their situation to sabotage us and our mission completion. After bringing the eight together, because I thought that by giving them the larger picture of what had transpired, they would better understand, I told them that they needed to be on guard against that, and to not react. After briefing these eight people, I headed off to tell the commander.

I’d seen the commander throughout the day. A little humorously, ‘the commander’ was played by different commanders from throughout my career. All were colonels, though, regardless of how they were later promoted. While going for the commander, I heard a discussion going on among a cluster of officers. Among them was the deputy commander.

She was complaining that the night duty officer schedule had been changed. As a result, nobody was scheduled to be the duty officer that night. The person on the schedule wasn’t available because they were on leave and traveling. Others were certain that this individual wasn’t the one scheduled to be on duty, regardless of what the roster said, but they weren’t sure who it was supposed to be.

I wasn’t surprised. I told the deputy commander that I believed the schedule change had been done deliberately by someone trying to hamstring our effectiveness to respond. I then told her it was the fifth incident and explained the previous four. After all, what were the chances that all of those things would happen at the same time? All were based on festering, long-term issues, but now they were suddenly coming to a head at the same time? I was dubious of that coincidence.

I then warned the deputy commander that I thought she needed to have a backup plan to her backup plan, and then contingency and backup plans to those backup plans, to the order of five. Further, that there was at least one person in the unit behind this, because the officer duty schedule was in a secure area. One of our people had to have been the one who changed it.

Dream end

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Copyfloof

Copyfloof (floofinition) – An animal who mimics others or who does everything that they do.

In use: “Many kittens and puppies become copyfloofs for a while as the learn how to be by duplicating Mom’s behavior.”

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The Confused Writing Dream

I was in a small building where there was a small office busy with people. It had a feel that seemed lifted from a 1950s movie. They had published something. Different authors were asked to read it and express what they thought. I was one, and my response was not like everyone else’s, triggering a new path.

Yet, I was never certain what was going on. I’d read and commented on something, but it seemed vague throughout the dream. My response made them ask me attend a conference with them. An old friend, a college professor, was going, too. He and I would go together, driving across country in a big, dark blue Lincoln Continental. He prepared to go in a hectic frenzy. I seemed baffled about everything he did and confused about what was going to happen next. Yet, soon we were in the car, driving across the country through light rain.

He was driving. I said something about seeing people needing a ride and wishing we could help them. Next thing that I knew, he pulled over for a hitchhiker. The hitchhiker climbed into the back. I offered to take a turn driving but the professor insisted that he was fine.

Seeing several more people on the side of the road, he pulled over and offered them a ride. I was leery of this, feeling that we didn’t have the room, but people crammed into the car. I looked into the back seat; it looked like a small, cluttered room. A blanket covered the rear window. That was to keep out the light so people could sleep, I guessed, but worried that it was illegal and we’d be pulled over. I again offered to drive, but he dismissed the offer.

We arrived at the conference. My impression was that it was a giant flea market, although it was indoors. People selling junk seemed to cover every square foot. Moving was done slowly, carefully, patiently. Food was being sold. I was hungry but passed on getting something to eat because I was reminded that we were having a big banquet. Someone gave me cookies, which I ate.

The head, a tall and bald white, middle-aged male wearing hornrim glasses, gave a short speech. He told everyone else that I was going to write about my impressions of the article they’d published. That startled me. Everyone applauded except me. Bewilderment was overtaking me. I was to do what, when? I didn’t understand but didn’t know how to ask the question.

Then, without me doing anything, the professor told me it was time to go. I realized that it was the weekend and that he needed to be back in order to teach Monday morning. We rushed around, packing things into the car. I offered to drive, since he’d driven us out there. He agreed. The dream ended as I entered the car and put my hands on the steering wheel.

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Dipfloofmat

Dipfloofmat (floofinition) – 1. Animal adept in the art of conducting negotiations and settlements between other animals, or with humans.

In use: “The little gray shorthair tabby with the loud meow was the difloofmat who kept the dogs and other cats quiet with a sharply issued meow. Karla didn’t know what the little cat said, but the others all abided her decision when she spoke.”

2. Human capable of bringing peaceful coexistence between animals.

In use: “Some called Marty a pet whisperer, but he thought of himself as a dipfloofmat, talking out disagreements between different pets, achieving flooftente between individuals and factions regardless of species.

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Flooftrarian

Flooftrarian (floofinition) – An animal who will do things counter to expectation.

In use: “Being a flooftrarian came naturally to Cassie. She socialized with other dogs, got along well with cats, had a backyard squirrel for a friend, made a friendship with a fawn, never tried to steal anyone’s food, and was polite and well-behaved with every person she met, including delivery people. Her people always referred to her as the most gentle and sweet creature they’d ever known. Everyone who met her agreed.”

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The Sheriff Dream

I was asked if I would be Sheriff. People would need to vote me in, of course. I accepted the offer because I didn’t think it would come about. I didn’t campaign so I was surprised to hear that I’d won. I was also surprised to hear me referred to as ‘the short guy with the short hair’.

I was young and happy. Becoming Sheriff was something I took seriously but was also that I wasn’t going to let dominate me. As I was leaving to walk around with a friend, an older man sharply said in passing, “I prefer my sheriff with his gun.”

Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten my gun. Guess I needed to carry that around. As I began walking out with my gun and my friend, the same older acquaintance said, “I prefer my sheriff to wear his gun in his holster properly.”

Oh, silly me, of course. With my friend’s help, I holstered my gun and put on my holster around my waist. He and I walked around. He was going on a journey to the north. I was helping him review what he needed to take with him and offering any help that I could give. Everywhere we went, people commented on the ‘short-haired guy who is our new sheriff’. I thought that was funny.

Rain fell. I had to put on a coat. That demanded I rearrange my gun holster. My friend helped me with that. As soon as we did it, the rain stopped. He and I entered a shop. An argument was going on. As it escalated, someone said, “Sheriff, can you intervene?”

I walked over and told the participants to break it up. They asked, who are you? I replied, “I’m the sheriff.”

They laughed. “You’re not the sheriff.”

“I am,” I answered. “I have a badge, I have the power and authority, and I have a gun.”

That shut them up. They walked away. My friend and I walked outside. I said good-bye to him and shook his hand.

Dream end.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

If you heard a thud earlier today, that was probably Wednesday landing.

Today is March 9, 2022. It’s chilly here, winter-spring, or wing. Blossoms have shown up on trees. Star asters and lilies are shoving their colorful heads out of the ground. Temperature now is 45 F and we expect 52, with some showers possible. The clouds look like they’re not sure about their orders, like, yeah, maybe they’ll come together for some rain, or maybe they’ll just call it off and drift home to Cloud City. (That’s where almost 99% of the clouds live, you know. Have you ever been?)

The sun checked in at 6:33 this morning. Check-out time is 6:10 PM.

The line, “And I’m getting old,” popped into my head last night, just an offshoot of general reflecting upon life, death, and existence, and the world’s current state. That’s a line out of a 1972 song called, “Heart of Gold” by Neil Young, according to the neurons. The line kindled the song and so it remained, looping through the morning mental music stream as I made and consumed breakfast, awaited word about Papi, and read updates about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. I love this acoustic version’s sense of introspection and loneliness.

So here we are. Stay positive. It’s a fight, I know. We’re all getting old, aren’t we, although many of us don’t think of ourselves as getting old until some magic point is reached. That magic is a different moment for each, superficially the same, one that can be categorized as a happening, like getting forgetful, or feeling weary, but it’s different for you than from me. I think.

Test negative. Wear a mask if it’s needed and get the vaccine and booster when you can. I’m back to the kitchen for a warmer. Have a better one. Cheers

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Good News

My cat Papi, aka Meep, Youngblood, the Ginger Blade, and the Ginger Flash, has been in the animal hospital for several days, suffering from concurrent inflammation of his pancreas, bile ducts, and liver, which is called traiditis. He’d not been eating, had vomited a few times, and wasn’t drinking water. After a few days of antibiotics, IV fluids, and rest, he finally ate last night and this morning. We can bring him home today.

It’s a relief. I shared the happy news with my big black and white boy, Tucker. “Good new, buddy. Papi is coming home.”

Tucker replied, “Who? What? What are you talking about?”

While Papi’s immediate threat has been countered, I’ll need to monitor his behavior and watch for a recurrence. Fingers crossed, this was a one-time thing, but you never know.

Thanks for all of your support. Look forward to bringing him home this afternoon at three. Just hasn’t been the same without him.

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