Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Some know the feelings of exertion
the rivulets of sweat plastering hair to head
and clothes to bodies
the film on skin
the drops running off nose and chin
and revel in the results of their efforts
wearing it like emotions on a sleeve
Some shun this sweat
hiding in air-conditioning and shade
fanning themselves against heat
flinching back from the sweaty
noses turned up in disapproval
mouths twisted with disgust
at the others’ sweaty presence
as though their sweat is unnatural
Sometimes, someone mentioned something that I did or said, and I respond, quite intelligently, “What? I did?” Then I’m required to think back, struggling through the murkiness of memory to determine if they were right. What’s weird is how it sometimes feels like I’m rewinding a tape, going backwards in my head until the moment springs up and provides me with the Eureka moment.
Happened a few nights ago when someone said that I’d mentioned a book and the movie made from the book. After rewinding, I came across the point when I’d mentioned Freakonomics to him.
On this day, they remind us, Live Aid took place in 1985.
Yes, children, I remember the event, but I believe I didn’t watch it, as I was living in tent city in Egypt as part of Bright Star 85.
In honor of that event, I’m streaming the Boomtown Rats’ “I Don’t Like Mondays”. It’s perfect for Friday, because Monday is always lurking.
To the left of the back door onto the patio is a black widow’s residence. She builds her web every night.
To the left of the back door, leaning against the wall on the patio, is our broom. Every morning, I take the broom and knock down the black widow’s web.
Last night, I went out to call a cat. Turning on the light, I saw the black widow feasting on an insect in her web.
I thought about knocking the web down, but I reconsidered. Who am I to insert myself into this process that is the foundation of nature?
I fear the black widow and her bite. I doubt she thinks about me. Regardless, this is part of our life cycle. I can’t let fear of her direct my actions. No, I’m not comfortable with it, but should my comfort decide my actions?
I let her web be.
I’m not afraid of anything but everything.
As long as there’s not anything, I’m not afraid of nothing.
My wife told me about foot masks, so I asked her to buy me some. She did. Applied them last Sunday. Got to peel off my first skin today.
Laughing to myself, as I almost put Tuesday’s Dream Music as my post title.
Last September, I had a dream and awoke with “The World I Know” by Collective Soul in my head. This time, the song was in my dream, twice.
The first time, I was discussing it with my youngest sister and a cousin. We were talking about the words, and then we sang it. Afterward, I continued through the dream, and came upon my oldest sister.
My oldest sister can claim to be the shortest of our family, but she was taller than me in this dream. I mentioned the song to her, and she said, “Well, it becomes kind of maudlin, which isn’t what you want in a song.” I said, “That’s true, it does, but it ends in an uplifting manner.” Then we sang it together, and then I continued on through the dream.
So, here it is again. You can imagine my sisters and I singing it. It came out the year I retired from the military. Wonder if there’s a connection for me and my dream in that?
Easy to forget, hard to remind myself – don’t let others shape me. Intellectually, I often remember this. Emotionally…well, that’s more difficult.
Floofcentric (catfinition) – thinking of cats, and the impact of activities on cats, before or to the exclusion of others; putting a cat and their needs at the center of one’s planning or life; a feline’s attitude that they are the center of attention or activity.
In use: “A floofcentric room, cat toys littered the floor, a cat tree was in one corner, and a cat condo inhabited another corner, while cat beds, a litter box, and cat dishes were set in other places.”
It was a conversation between a man and a woman behind me as the Independence Day parade went by in front of me.
The man said, “That woman running for Congress – Jamie?”
“Jaime Mcleod-Skinner?”
“Yes. Did she go to school in Ashland? I went to school in Ashland with someone with her name — ”
“Yes, I went to school with her.”
“You went to school with Jamie Mcleod in Ashland?”
“Yes.”
“I went to school in Ashland.”
“Noel?”
“Meredith?”
Laughter.
Michael Seidel, writer 