The Coffee Moment

He enjoyed a long, intimate drink of coffee. The brew — temperature, flavor, highlights, smell — was perfect, encouraging him to drink longer, and then, to close his eyes and indulge in another long drink.

It was a gorgeous cup of coffee, and almost made up for the years of harsh, hot coffee he’d drunk in military facilities around the world at life dark thirty in the morning.

The Writing Moment

The moment was here: time to write. There was so much to do with storylines, plot points, and character development, his thoughts were like a clowder of kittens chasing one another and wrestling while also playing with a litter of puppies. Organization was required. Discipline. Focus. Direction. Yes, yes, yes. And, yes.

But first, more coffee.

The Guests Dream

My wife and I lived in a small place in this dream. It was outside and had no walls or roof. Nor, I later learned, did it have a private bathroom.

As said, it was small, tiny, really. It was all about the kitchen, dining room, and living room — without walls, which I didn’t think odd at all. Guests arrived, including cousins. Among them was one a few years younger than me who passed away in 2002 from a heart attack. He was there and in good health and I was pleased to see him. I realized that the guests meant that I needed more kitchen space. Of critical concern was that I make a place for them to make coffee and sit and enjoy the coffee — and BTW, Christmas was on the way, according to my guests. Some began putting up colored electric lights and other decorations.

I set up what I thought would suit the guests, a small, squared off space with an elaborate coffee maker on the left, and a sitting area on the right. My deceased cousin complained about it IAW his nature. I deflected his complaints with good nature. His mother arrived and made observations and suggestions. As I began explanations about the arrangements and my logic, I cut myself off. “Wait. You’re right! That would be better.” I commenced making the change.

Finishing, I stepped away from our square, wall-free, roofless, ‘home’. Around us was a park with swing sets, seesaws, and slides in use by screaming, laughing, chattering children. After surveying them, I turned and spotted two huge bears lumbering by. Worrying about the children, I turned to warn them. They’d spotted the bears. Quieting, they’d climbed bleachers and were waiting for the bears to leave. The bears left without incident.

I went to use the restroom. In dreamstyle, I turned and stepped and was upstairs in a white building. This, I knew, was a stick and wood building three stories tall. I was on the third floor in a hall. A square antechamber was on my right. I faced white doors spread out in the hall and antechamber in an odd and haphazard fashion. Black numbers labeled the doors one to five. The bathrooms, I realized. As I went to select number five, I realized there was a sixth and shifted toward it. As I did, a young woman in loose black shirt and pants accosted me, explaining that the rooms were shared and she was scheduled to use one of them to give a massage and a bath to a client. She said, “You need to reserve the room for your use.” As she talked, she crossed to a wall and took a clipboard with a yellow shirt of paper on it. “We use this to reserve the rooms. I suggest you use it as well.”

I countered with another suggestion, which were cards by the doors, which indicated if they were in use or available.

Dream end.

Monday’s Theme Music

The sun kicked the door in on Monday, July 4, 2022, and announced it was going back to bed.

It’s a cool day in the valley. Showers are anticipated, the third day in a row in July, a treat for us. It’s but 18C outside now but we’re expecting a high of 76 F, no lie; on the nation’s celebration of 1776 and the signing of the Declaration of Independence, it’ll be 76. Must be an omen of some kind in there. I’ll look for it after I’ve had my coffee.

Sunrise was at 5:39 AM. The traveling sun show will cease it Monday ops today at (drumroll), yes, 8:50 PM. Again.

Today’s music was brought to us by the wonderful Minnie Riperton. She had a stunning voice but died of cancer when she was 31. Maya Rudolph is her daughter, an actor and comedian who I richly enjoy, so Minnie gave us her singing and her daughter. Her best-known song by the masses is probably “Lovin’ You” from 1975, a song created to distract her daughter when the girl was little and being cranky. I heard it on the radio yesterday and had to pause to listen, one more time. Thank you, technology. Thank you, Minnie.

Stay positive, test negative, and whatever needs done to survive, endure, and thrive. Coffee is one of those things that help me survive, endure, and thrive. At least that caffeine kick and seductive flavor urges me to believe and try, try again.

There go the jets on their flyover. The parade downtown has commenced. Obviously, I’m not there this year. Obviously.

Now where’s that coffee? Here’s the music. Cheers

Wait — another flyover. Right over our house. They must have smelled my coffee.

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