I was in a dark building, but then was outside it, adjacent to it. The building was red brick but I didn’t see much of it. I don’t know what I was doing there. The whole thing seemed murky.
A woman who reminded me of one of my sisters approached and told me, “I can do this.”
I thought, do what? What is going on here?
She then proceeded to quickly build a piece of wall of horizontal wooden planks painted dark forest green.
How the hell is that going to do anything, I thought. What is she up to?
She put her dark green construction up against the red brick facade. I saw then, it was shaped exactly to fit in that space, including the angle for the roof. Further, the brick building had a slot, and she’d included a tongue which fit in there.
I was impressed but still didn’t know what was going on, or why.
Then, though, I knew whatever she was doing was working. That just floored me.
Then she complained, “Oh, no, there’s a problem. Something got away from me.”
Trying to understand that, I got up and looked over the top of her green wall. Beyond it, I saw broad, deep blue water.
I also saw a little bug flying toward me. “Is that it?” I asked. She was talking more but I couldn’t hear her. I tried talking more loudly but she kept talking.
The bug was coming on. Now I saw, mosquito. Was that the bug she meant?
More DIY, replacing a light. The light being replaced is the dining room ‘chandelier’. Offering six bulbs, it’s not too heavy but large and unwieldy, and was attached to a sloping ‘cathedral’ ceiling.
This is the third light being replaced in an updating move — foyer, breakfast bar, now dining room. The old dining room light just didn’t match the new style.
About a year was spent trying to find a light that met the new style. Finally found online and ordered last week, it was delivered earlier this week. As all the lights in that area are on the same circuit, the work needed to be done during the day. But other than the height, weight, and size, it was a piece of cake. The lighting industry has done a fantastic job of creating universal mounts and standard processes and connections.
Fun to get these done. Satisfying to walk around at the walls and ceilings I’ve painted, the lights which I installed, and so on, along with the appliances I fixed, like the microwave and dishwasher. These touches all make it feel like ‘my home’.
Yesterday, I noticed my wife’s Ford Focus has a burnt-out headlight. On to the next project.
Dreamed I was at a fancy business dinner. Large, round white tables set across a ballroom, bar in the corner. I’d just arrived and set up was underway. Two of my previous bosses were there. The fete was due to begin in an hour or so.
Participants, including me, had been asked to create some entertainment. I’d created a word jumble. Then my former boss said, “And please provide an answer sheet.”
Uh oh. I hadn’t created that. I went to get the notebook where I’d made it, knowing that I used one of those black and white lab notebooks that I always favored. I’d thrown it away because the notebook was full. I went to a gray, wheeled, large garbage cans sitting there and began going through the trash. People asked me to explain. I reluctantly did, with a grin, and was met with sympathy.
One unfamiliar elderly woman came by and said, “I know what you’re going through. I’ve done that.”
Shrugging, I replied, “If I can’t find it, I’ll just have to solve the jumble.”
Dad was there, putting silverware on tables. He said, “Maybe you used one of these notebooks, Michael.”
I knew I hadn’t because the ones he showed me weren’t the right kind. But I said, “Good idea, I’ll check.” And made a show of checking a few.
That dream segment ended. Another began.
I went to a counter crowded with product and was a little confused. My wife was there, along with several others, including a man behind a counter. I learned they were talking about my hair! Some products had been ordered and had arrived.
I had my own things to do/try for my hair, here and back home, so I was a little puzzled and annoyed. My wife said, “Everyone wants you to look pretty for the wedding.” I think I dimly knew a sister was getting married but didn’t know who.
The man wanted me to try the products. I wanted him to back off but didn’t say anything. I suggested, “Let me brush my hair so we can see what it looks like first.”
I didn’t have a brush, mirror, or comb, so I used my hands, and then asked my wife, “How does this look?”
She hemmed and hawed, not able to decide, which vexed me.
I dreamed I was in part of a square complex where the center was an open court. I was on the fourth or fifth level looking out. There was a balcony that looked over the inner courtyard. Heavy snow was falling. I discovered when I went out on the balcony, a small box existed. In it at one point were my keys. In another time, there was a folded note. I unfolded it and read it but don’t remember what it says. I remember complaining (I think to myself) that a mistake was being made, that those messages weren’t going to get through because of the snow, but also the location. You’d need to know to look there.
The snow itself amazed me. It was so thick, covering everything in layers. I don’t remember the snow actually falling, just building up, white and pure.
I was at some resort/business conference, mixing business with pleasure. Younger, I was traveling alone but had met with a group, mostly male, but a few female acquaintances. No relatives were present.
Everything was going smoothly. Prizes were being given out, assignments made, directions planned. While off on my own to one side, sitting, I ran into a former female boss. She asked about my health. I told her about my tendon surgery, showing her where the incision had been made. Then I reminded her that she’d known about that. Agreeing, she wished me well and moved on.
I then moved to another place, a tall table with a chair, to wait for friends. A man passed. I knew of him – elderly, with silvery gray hair, dignified, and gay. I also knew his name was Michael, same as mine. We exchanged nods as greetings.
My name was called to pick up a package, I went to a counter cluttered with packages. One was given to me. As I looked at the name, I saw the first name was Michael but a Spanish surname followed. I knew it was the dignified man’s name and pointed out that this wasn’t my package. I was told that the other guy had turned it down, so it was being given to me, and that I should take it and like it because it was a better package than what I would get.
I went off with that and ran into friends, explaining the package thing with them. Then I returned to the tall table and chair.
The dignified Michael passed several more times. I chatted with him, flirting with him about his plans. He was amused but kept quiet.
I then went to be with another group. More prizes were being given out, and I was again given dignified Michael’s package. I then commented that I kept receiving his package instead of mine.
I stripped off my clothes and was in a neon orange speedo. I decided to walk a back over to where food was now being given out. Although I was almost naked and was drawing attention in my bright speedo, I was comfortable, and heard women whispering how good I looked, which made me grin inside. I then got to the counter where I was given a third, larger package for the other Michael.
Dry, but cold — wintry — is how to describe today. Dropped down to 25 during the night but it’s now 45 F with a thin and thick clouds stewing in a pale blue sky. 45 is the day’s expected high.
First, I’m freaking ecstatic by the Supreme Court ruling striking down Trump’s tariffs. Now we wait to see if he attempts an edn around or ignores the ruling. I expect him to fully trash the ruling without expressing any real knowledge about it; the ruling goes against him so he will swear vengeance.
Now, too, he may be required to repay all those tariffs already collected. Trump will stall and lie on that, as he stalls so many times when he declares something is great, solved, or over, whether it’s things like the Epstein files, the wars he’s ended, or his healthcare plan.
Predictably, Trump also blamed recent bad economic news on the partial government shutdown. He also blamed that on Democrats, even though he’s in the White House and the GOP control Congress.
Of course he’s blaming Democrats. His deepest base will accept that because of their information channels. Indicators are, though, more people are turning away from Trump and his lies and policies.
Not surprising, either, that Trump seems to be preparing to go to war against Iran, position more war machines in that region. He probably thinks it’ll distract us from the Epstein files, the worsening affordability situation, and his growing unpopularity. Remember, this is a man who considers himself a unifier and ‘the peace president’.
I hoped to return to writing at the coffee shop today but decided I’m not well enough. Although much better, I have a sometimes hoarse, hacking cough, and breathing through my nose challenges me. Regretfully, I’ll holding off going there although I will — again — try to write at home. Meanwhile, my to-be-written list grows with new novel concepts. It’s starting to become as large as my to-be-read list.
Over on Mom’s Saga…
Per plans and agreements made between Mom, the social worker, and the assisted living facility, Mom was transported over to her new residence. Per their instructions to her, they requested payment. She said, no.
We the children are not surprised. We speculated Mom had a long game in mind. Agree to be moved from the hospital to the nursing home. Then refuse to pay. In her mind, she would then have to go back to her house. But for her to be taken there, she has to be released to a family member. We are all united that we will not pick her up.
We love our mother. We want her safe and happy. But she insists that she can live alone and care for herself. It’s been proven that she can’t. She won’t accept it.
It’s all hard words to write. Those are simple summaries of very long conversations between the five siblings.
This was why we pursued the 302 process. The county reversed it. They brought this on. We reiterated that to them today. Maybe they will learn.
It’s exhausting. Mom texts grandchildren at night. They text their mothers. The mothers — my sisters — alert the rest of us on group texts.
Sis has been magnificent, working on our behalf, working on Mom’s behalf.
That’s where it all stands today, Friday, Feb. 20th.
Here’s Arcade Fire with “Keep the Car Running”. It so ideally slots into my mood. I think Les Neurons made a terrific music choice. Essentially, it’s an Orwellian tale of a person having a recurring dream of being trapped in a city that keeps changing.
Michael Seidel, writer 