Thursday’s Theme Music

“Ride My See-Saw” by the Moody Blues, 1968, thundered into my head this morning, partly due to writing, partly to my young ginger feline friend, Papi, aka Meep, aka Youngblade, aka the Ginger Blade.

With writing, it was recognition of how I go up and down about how I feel about the work in progress. It’s like being on a see-saw. With Papi, it was about my sleep getting interrupted. I was up and down, up and down, letting him in and out, in and out. Very floofrupting.

This video and song is a fun slice back to what we were when. Their slender, suited shapes and mod hair. That was rock, then, for a while. Well, no, that look wasn’t universal. I never adopted it. My hair was longer and less styled. (My wife loves the fact that I used to employ bobby pins to keep my hair out my way while engaged in baseball and football. For track and wrestling, I just let it flow.) While skinny, I wore huge bellbottoms and baggy tees. My favorite tee said, “Keep America Green, Grow Grass.” A marijuana leaf was prominent in the tee’s center.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get plenty of sleep. Here’s the music. Enjoy.

Just A Cat

He’s laying at my feet,

soft, black, and sweet.

Some scoff, he’s just a cat.

He looks at me and purrs,

and I stroke his velvet fur

as some sniff, “Isn’t he a little fat?”

But I don’t care and I don’t shift,

not even for an itch,

because I like it, where he’s at.

Even if he is, as they all say.

really,

just a cat.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Michael, my brain mumbled. Michael.

I didn’t reply.

Morning, Michael, my brain said. Time to get up.

I snuggled deeper into bed.

Morning, Michael, time to get up, my brain insisted. Then, mimicking an old “Jetsons” routine, added, “Up, up, up, up, up.”

Really, I muttered. Again? Must we go through this every morning?

By now, the cats were aware that I’d returned to life, and were getting in on the efforts to make me rise and shine.

I sighed. Must I endure this every morning?

By then, my bladder was also suggesting it was time to get up, and my stomach was adding that it was ready to get up and eat, and my brain was whispering, coffee (which it knew would stimulate me into activity), so I complied. As I stumbled down the hall, thinking, every morning comes too early, my mind’s word-association processes kicked in. Memory brought up Sugar Ray singing “Every Morning” from 1998.

Oof. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get vaccinated.

Floofdiced

Floofdiced (floofinition) – State or attitude characterized by care and concern about animals and their well being.

In use: “Many people owned by pets become floofdiced, planning functions, trips, needs, and wants around their pet friends’ requirements.”

Floofdemonium

Floofdemonium (floofinition) – A wild uproar because of excitement or anger about, or caused by, an animal (or animals), including their treatment.

In use: “Floofdemonium exploded on social media as hunters displayed photos of their ‘big-game trophies’, beautiful animals senselessly killed by humans.”

A Healing Dream

It was another busy dream night for me. Of all that I remember (or think that I do — who knows?), this one was the most intriguing.

I had an elderly cat. Tired, I could see that he was hurt, aching, and in pain. Thinking that I had to do something, or wanted to something but had no other recourse, I put him on my lap, talking to him, petting him, and willing healing energy into him. Someone witnessing it laughed and mocked me. I shrugged that off, thinking the contact made the cat feel better and cost me nothing.

When the cat left my lap, it seemed like he moved more easily, like his pain was gone. That delighted me. When I stood, I discovered pain that I had was also gone, surprising me. Noticing I stood had some pain/discomfort, I decided to do another test. I took the cat onto my lap and held him longer, stroking him, and willing him to feel better and be better. As I did, I was certain I was feeling better.

I awoke feeling enormously refreshed today, feel of hope and energy. I hope others can enjoy these sort of dreams, but they always cause me wonder about the nature of dreams and existence.

A Dream

Last night’s main feature on the dream stage was a lengthy one, like Boyhood length (two hours forty-five minutes). (So it felt in the dream.) Expressing several layers, I thought I’d touch on highlights.

I was traveling on a jet. I knew that because I was told at the beginning that we were leaving on a jet, but never saw the aircraft. It was big; I had a large suite with several bedrooms on it. That was at the end of a long hallway.

Toward the middle of the dream, a friend (B) visited from Alaska. She and I sat at a window drawing with pencils. When she finished, she handed me a detailed drawing of me. Her skill amazed me. “I drew this for you,” she said. After thanking her, I studied it a bit, then decided it could be improved. I commenced doing that in stages. I showed her and told her what I’d done. She answered, “It’s yours, so do what you want.” She went off to get a drink.

My cat, Rocky, drew my attention. As an explanatory note, Rocky passed away about sixteen years ago. He was the only survivor of a litter found in a hoarding situation when we lived in Germany.

Rocky was approaching a square hole in the carpeted floor. I worried about him, as a red creature had been spotted at that hole, threatening a child earlier in the dream.

Rocky went up to the hole and stopped. The red thing came out, as I’d feared. Rocky retreated. The thing went after him.

I jumped up to go help Rocky, but Rocky swatted the thing off a ledge, which knocked it out of the aircraft. “Smart kitty,” I said. He then went off exploring, and was looking over the edge, out of the aircraft. I told him to be careful.

Then I was busy with other things. One thing I noticed was that the suite door was open. I closed it. When I turned around, I saw Rocky disappear over the ledge. Rushing over, I called him. There was scratching at the door. I hurried over and opened it to Rocky. He strolled in, nonchalant as ever.

The dream continued. I’m leaping forward in it. The others, who were my wife’s family and traveling with us, had returned. Someone ordered a beer from room service. We were talking about what we were going to do that day. I had one of my old Blackberry phones. On a whim, I decided I wanted to call the voice mail from the past. I couldn’t remember the number but just told the phone, call voice mail. A woman started talking. Assuming it was voice mail, I pressed some buttons to stop that. The system asked me if I was certain I wanted to reset it. I pressed escape.

After starting over, I heard the same female voice talking. I put her on my speaker. Then I realized that it was a live call. I wasn’t certain if she was calling from the past or if I’d slipped into the past. She was telling me a conversation with one of our engineers. “We use BlackICE 2.2 to run our security. It’s just a basic installation. He thought we’d still be able to do it but we’d need a key to do it and needed to talk to you.”

BlackICE was a startup that I worked with around 2000. All of what she said aligned with my BlackICE role.

I told her, “No. It can’t be done. That was almost twenty years ago. BlackICE 2.2 would no longer work. It’s no longer a product, and the company has been bought by other companies. I’m afraid that you need to move on.”

The dream continued — it was long, believe me — but those on the highlights for me.

Eminent Floofmain

Eminent Floofmain (floofinition) – The power of an animal to lay claim to another’s property, and assume the right to use it.

In use: “The office chair had been purchased for his work, but every time he stood, the cat jumped onto it, attempting to impose eminent floofmain.”

Santy Paws

Santy Paws, Santy Paws,

where are you?

What holiday mischief

will you put me through?

Are you climbing a tree

that you shouldn’t touch?

Or stalking ornaments

that you think are lunch?

Maybe you’re unwrapping presents

while I’m out.

Oh, Santy Paws, Santy Paws,

come out, come out!

Floofwallow

Floofwallow (floofinition) – (Floofchaic) Wearied or worn out by an animal’s floofturnal activities.

In use: “When the alarm went off, he didn’t want to get up, feeling floofwallowed after his cat’s two, three, four, and five o’clock energy floofbursts.”

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