Category: Uncategorized

The Clothes & Garage Dream

I had a large new home which made me proud and happy. Then, dream switch, I was visiting with Mom.

Mom wasn’t home. She and the girls were out. I was about my current age. Mom’s home was the small brick ranch style house where I lived from 1965 to 1972 in Pittsburgh before departing.

In the dream, she had coats hanging up outside, like on a clothes line that stretched from the house to a pole by the street. It was a temporary thing, but she’d had this going on for several days, and it bothered me. When it lightly rained and the rain then turned to ice, I decided that I needed to move them into the garage. However, the garage still needed to house Mom’s car. It was a one-car garage, so that would be a challenge.

Going through the garage, considering angles and materials, I began thinking about how I could do it. My little sisters (who had been out with Mom) arrived and commented on my plans, expressing doubts that it could be done. (They were their current ages and appearances, and in the dream, I wondered if they as little girls were with Mom while their adult selves were present in the garage.) I was gaining confidence that it could, then, and passed off their objections with jokes. They left.

As progress was being made, TC arrived. He and I had been stationed at Onizuka together. The same rank, he retired a few years after I did and moved away.

In the dream, he was coming for a visit. I was expecting him. He showed up in an exoctic burnt orange car, not the kind of vehicle that he would ever drive. He had young twin children with him. I played with them as we exchanged greetings. The car then went off and I realized that he’d been dropped off.

I returned to working on hanging the coats in the garage. I could show progress. TC asked what beers I had. I’d been planning that moment and replied as a joke with the names of a number of cheap American beers such as PBR, Schlitz, and Old Milwaukee. He always drank Miller Lite, and I knew that’s what he wanted.

Then, in a move that surprised me, he said he was going to the neighbor’s house. He said he and the neighbor were friends. As we discussed this, I stepped outside. The light rain had ceased. A car drove by on the street. Dusk was falling. My Mom’s neighbor was at a table in his yard, waiting for TC, who walked toward him.

The dream ended.

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The Neighbor’s Cat

An old, sweet callie, she seems in pain, and tired. Our neighbor for fourteen years, sShe’s a frequent visitor, singing at doors until we let her in, letting herself in if the pet door is open, and then launching an opera about getting fed until she’s paid for her efforts.

This morning, I’d let her in, fed her, and returned to bed. After a bit, I felt a cat get on the bed, an effort noted for the sounds of climbing up the duvet. I thought it was her because of the lightness of being that tread across my legs and confirmed it with a glance. This was a first for her; she’d never visited us in bed before.

She began a purring lullaby as she came up the bed. Stopping by my face, she greeted my nose with a soft tongue touch and amped her purring to eleven. Going on, she visited my wife’s face for a few minutes. Then she went onto my wife’s pillow and sat down by her head, purring all the will as she gazed out into the room.

She didn’t stay long, perhaps ten minutes, always purring, and was waiting for me with a chirping request for a second breakfast when I climbed out of bed. Her request was fulfilled.

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Inspirational Quote # 1635

I had reached a similar experience and conclusion the other day. With this novel in progress, a difference in attitude, a patience and methodology that I’d not experience before, has emerged. There’s less urgency and more steadiness. As a writing experience, it’s absolutely wonderful.

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Floofticate

Floofticate (floofinition) – Chew, as done by an animal, on objects such as slippers, wood, pillows, etc.

In use: “Whenever she left the house, she first checked the collie’s mood, for if the dog was anxious, she would floofticate anything that she found, and Marie had already gone through too many shoes this year. It’d been that way since her husband had died.”

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The Factory Dream

I was working in a factory. I don’t know what was produced there.

Management was coming through to evaluate people, change positions, fire and promote, as they saw fit. Part of that, they were first going through a specific section that was designated personal work space. They would judge it and give us recommendations about our chances and where improvement was needed. Sort of feedback.

The personal section were about the size of a letter slot. Each had eight brass nuts on it.  Space at the corners and across the middle, the nuts were to be there and tight. They were on walls from floor to ceiling, with a continuous varnished blonde wood bench in front of it.

My personal section was faded green, scratched, and worn. It looked like it’d been there since the factory’s beginnings. On the wall opposite were personal sections that looked black and newer. They almost appeared unused.

People packed the factory. Excitement boomed about this pending activity, but I was unmotivated and distant about the whole thing. Then, we came returned to our personal sections. Most people had red tags and were disappointed that they’d not been selected.

I had a note. It read, “Your nuts are loose and your box is dirty. Fix these and you have great promise.”

The feedback amused me but my co-workers and friends were impressed. Reflecting, I didn’t know what it meant in the dream. Others took time to explain that out of all these boxes, maybe one in a thousand had a note. That gave me a chance that most didn’t have, if I took care of the things that were noted.

A manager came by. He told me the same thing and then asked me what experience I had. I told him about my previous involvement with databases, CRM, and RM systems, and my analysis work. Giving me a thumbs up, he said, “You have strong potential, good luck.” Then he left.

Now motivated, I cleaned my worn green box and started tightening my nuts. One was loose and immediately fell off. I searched the floor for it but couldn’t find my nut. That dismayed me. Not having a nut meant a demotion, I’d learned. I didn’t want that and wanted a possible promotion now.

I went searching for a friendly co-worker to get his advice. “He’s been traded,” I was told.

“Traded? To another company?”

“Yep.”

“They can do that?”

“They can and do.”

That amazed me. I wasn’t certain about being traded but I definitely wanted advancement. I needed a nut.

Looking at the black boxes behind me, I decided to steal a nut from down by the floor. I’d used it, get the feedback, and then put it back when I was done. It wasn’t stealing, but borrowing.

I started executing my plan. A young woman in black clothing saw me. “You’re stealing someone’s nut,” she said, pointing. Denying it, I hastened away with the nut in my hand. As I did, she said, “I’m reporting you.” Turning away and hurrying off, she called out to another.

I stepped off. Looking back, I saw her talking to a man and pointing at me. Swearing, embarrassed, and humiliated, I took off into the factory.

I went out onto the floor where huge equipment was located. I’d never been out to the floor before. What I saw awed me. A friend who worked in that section came by and asked me what I was doing. I explained my predicament. He said, “You’d better go back and put that nut back. You don’t want to be caught with another person’s nut.”

I knew he was right. I headed back with intentions of covertly replacing it. Of course, I wanted to avoid that woman and the man she’d been talking to. Not seeing her, I put the nut back where I’d taken it.

Of course, I still needed a nut. Now the future seemed bleak. Looking down the line, I saw the inspectors coming.

My friend from the manufacturing floor came up. With deft moves, he put my nut on and tightened it. “Now you’re covered,” he said, and rushed off.

The dream ended.

 

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The Rolling Floofs

The Rolling Floofs (floofinition) – A musical floof group formed by two cats, a dog, several hamsters, and a bird during the 1960s, known for their rock and floof songs.

In use: “Whenever The Rolling Floofs’ early songs come on, such as “Get Off of My Tail”, “(I Can’t Get No) Decent Treats”, or “Under My Paw”, other floofs remember where they were when the song first came out and sing along.”

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Puzzle the Fourth

We started building a new jigsaw puzzle on SuperMonday, so we’ve been working on it for several superdays. 

This one is used (always a worry, because what if pieces are missing?), purchased from the town Goodwill for $1.49. Depicting a village green with a growers’ market and shoppers in front of a row of shops, it offers a variety of color.

A big ‘un for us, fifteen hundred pieces, over three feet long by almost two feet, the puzzle sprawls across the dining room table. Some many pieces must be appraised and sorted that we’ve added containers. Detainees for specific sections — “Oh, wait, that’s part of the flower cart” — “This belongs to the watermelon guy” — are set aside until we can get to a point where they can be added.

We’ve worked out several categories of pieces during our process.

  1. Edge Pieces. The edges are important for us. We like working from the outside in. None of those edgeless puzzles for us, thanks.
  2. “Eureka!” Pieces. Also known as “Found” pieces (“Hey, I found it!”). these are pieces for which a hard search has been going on. Usually we search, then search again, and again. We typically grouse, “We’re missing a piece. I’ve been through all of these pieces and I can’t find it.” Hence, it must be missing.
  3. “I know this…” Pieces. The color is sufficiently unique that you recognize where it’ll belong, but you can’t put it there yet.
  4. “WTH”, or “WTF” Pieces. Bizarre colors that mystify you as you stare at them (“Do I have my glasses on?”) (“Yes, it’s better with my glasses off,”) these pieces drive you to pick up the picture and stare with furrowed brow until your eyes sweat and your butt falls asleep.

As this is an ‘interlocking ;uzzle’, no weird shapes exist. That’s good. We’d developed a vocabulary for pieces during past efforts (“I’m looking for an angel with black blob feet.”), but my partner prefers straightforward shapes. Unusual shapes annoy her.

Jigfloofs have been diligently employing a paws on approach, often walking among the pieces and on the puzzle in progress to give us their help. While their help is welcomed, of course, we generally remove them from the actual work space with gentle words (“Damn it, get off, I can’t see, stupid cat!”) to the chairs, where they curl up and sleep until a need for them arises again.

The puzzle is coming along. I estimate it to be sixteen point three percent completed (accurate, ain’t I?). We should finish it in time for next year. Meanwhile, optimists to the bone, we’ve been searching local stores and the net for our next project.

Someday, we’ll get a life.

 

 

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The City on A Ship Dream

I felt wonderfully happy. I parked my black car, a little sports vehicle in an unpaved space and went in to talk to my wife. I had to go up steps. Speaking with her about tickets and time, I had the impression that we were getting ready to leave. Then, stepping out of our place onto an breezeway, I looked across the land.

Our place reminded me of the building where we lived on Okinawa, Japan, for a few years. Built in a new style in the sixties, it overlooked an old gray stone building, matching wall, and an unpaved parking lot. The similarity ended there; Okinawa’s paved streets were asphalt. The narrow, curving streets I saw in my dream were light gray cobblestones. As my eyes swept the vista, they were drawn toward the sea in the west. It wasn’t too far off. Changing my vantage and looking north, I saw sea there, too. For a moment, I thought we were on an island, but then I knew we were in a city on a ship.

Turning in another direction, I could see much more of it. The city on the ship reminded me of an old English village. The talk about tickets and time was about getting ready to dock and arrive, not to leave. That realization pleased and excited me.

Dream shift. My wife and I had come down to some shops. Now she went off to do something. Left alone in a large, crowded business, I found a place and sat down to eat.

While eating fries, I played with a game, something made to amuse young children. It was just on a table. A woman came up and teased me about playing with her game. She then ate chips out of my hair. I was surprised because I didn’t know I had fries in my hair. I teased her about eating them without asking for permission. She introduced me to her mother. As her mother went off, she sat down to chat with me at the table.

I enjoyed her company. I was young in the dream and she was my age. White, with short brown hair, she impressed me with her self-confidence and humorous outlook. We ended up running into one another and spending a lot of time together. She seemed always happy to see me. I had the impression that she looked for me.

Then, once when we were looking out a window, I saw my wife. Out on her knees by the sidewalk, she was planting small bushes. I realized that she’d volunteer to help with a beautification project, and she’d done it all on a whim.

I said as much to my companion. This seemed to change her demeanor, as she left the table after a few minutes and disappeared into the throngs.

In another shift, I was preparing to leave. I was driving somewhere.

I decided to eat first and entered a bustling business. It was both auto-repair and food. The man behind the counter was a large, swarthy, jovial person. He was separating the customers in line between auto-needs and food. When he asked me what I wanted, I replied, “I’m hungry, I’m looking for food.”

Pretending to be aghast, he asked, “And you came here? Then you made a mistake.” Then he winked and pointed. “Go forward, the lady up there will help you.”

I wanted rice with food in a bowl but decided to leave without it. Then a friend joined me. I was giving him a ride. I told him we’d leave in a minute, I wanted to get food. Then I saw the toys like the one I’d been playing with when I met the woman. I looked for her there. After not seeing her, I told my friend, “Lets’s go.”

We went out and entered my convertible sports car. We were turning left onto a four lane road. I said, “Hold on, because I’ll need to accelerate hard to get across to where I want to go.” As he said okay, the light changed.

We rounded the corners. Stepping on the accelerator, I downshifted to a lower gear. I missed the shift. My car stalled.

I was shocked. Fortunately, traffic was light and the car was pulled to the left, by a median strip of dry brown grass.

After realizing what I’d done, I went to start the car and saw the keys were missing from the ignition. As I processed that, I realized that there was a second ignition on the floorboard to the left, and that’s where the key was. Reaching down, I turned the key, started the engine, and engaged a car. The dream ended as I began driving away.

 

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