Tag: cousin

Saturda’s Theme Music

Good morning from Ashlandia, where the temperature has jumped 49 F. Thickened clouds lurk with dark intentions, prepared to unleash rain faster than can say “It’s Biden’s fault!” The clouds are forcing the sunshine to circumnavigate the clouds, so the sunshine is low energy and uncertain as Trump’s logic. Today’s high will be 59 F, or a little higher than Trump’s IQ. Or so I read on the net. So you know it must be true.

There’s not much change on Mom and Dad. Dad is going home with his wife. Mom is at home with her boyfriend. Mom’s pain is increasing. The source is sciatica. They gave her a steroid shot at the hospital the other day; that ended the pain. Now it’s wearing off and, as these things work, her pain is returning. I’ve not heard about what’s happening with the hospitalized uncle, Dad’s brother. Then there is also the case of the missing cousin. 72 years old, I’ve never met him but he reached out to me via Facebook. See, he met my sisters years ago, after I’d left home when I was fifteen. They kept in touch. A few years ago, he noticed me commenting on their posts and asked for clarification about who I was. See, Facebook does serve some good. Now, though, he’s dropped off of Facebook. Another cousin noticed first and asked if I knew what happened to him. Nope; I contacted his half-sister (same father, different mother). She had no idea what happened to him. So I’ve reached out to his children (who I’ve never met). I’m awaiting a response. He was hospitalized for heart issues last year, and we’re worried.

Today’s music came out of dreamland. I had an interesting, unresolved and frustrating dream. As I contemplated it while doing morning business, The Neurons introduced “Sunny Came Home”, a 1997 Shawn Colvin song that had a lot of radio play. I was puzzled about why The Neurons picked that song (but then again, The Neurons usually puzzle me by what they’re doing). Yet, as I reflected on the dream, some sort of parallels between the song and my dreeam were revealed. To me, the song is about a woman struggling to make sense of things who then becomes an arsonist to ‘solve her problems’. My dream was a reflection of my struggle to make sense of things, politically and personally. The Neurons agree that this makes sense. Who knows if it’s right?

I’m drinking hot coffee again, to which I raise my hands to the heavens and give thanks for small favors. Ready to rock another Saturday. I hope good things happen for you today. Cheers

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Car & Places Dream

First, I traveled by boat. I was traveling with a group but never saw more than one a a time. I think we might have been military but we didn’t wear uniforms or use ranks.

In the first stage of our traveling, we went by boat, but that was only mentioned; I was never on the boat in the dream. We arrived at an island spa resort. I was dressed very casually in jeans with a light pastel Polo shirt. A woman greeted me and told me that I would be in a villa but in a different location from the officers. She also told me that I was the only enlisted present. One of the others came by at that point to check on me and then told me I was invited to dinner that night.

Ferrari Daytona coupe; not my car.

Next, I left the resort. I was driving. In a weird sequence where the POV changed, I saw that I was driving a 1971 Ferrari Daytona coupe. This was a car that I greatly admired when I was a teenager. Red, it was in perfect condition. Other people pointed at it as I drove by, which greatly pleased. Abruptly, my wife was with me as a passenger. I found a place to park by a curb so we could go in and have dinner.

My 1993 RX-7.

Then, I was driving again. This time I was in a 1993 black Mazda RX-7 like I used to own. A cousin was with me. I drove along a beach at the ocean and then found a black to park so we could get something to eat. After I got out the car, I was speaking with him and told him, “Don’t lock the door yet.” But he slammed the door shut. Horrified, he said, “I’m sorry.” I replied, “You locked us out.”

But I then discovered that the car was a targa, with a removeable roof panel. So all I needed to do was reach in the car to unlock it, which I did. I then remarked, “I guess I should put the roof on if I want the car to be locked.” I put that on but as I did, I thought to myself in the dream, funny, but Mazda never made a targa version of this car.

Dream end.

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Two Clothing Dreams

Two clothing dreams were experienced. One ended positively.

In the first clothing dream, it’s my classic anxiety dream. I’m back in the military, and oh, no, I’m not in reg. My hair needs a haircut and I don’t have my cap. We’re expected to be ‘under cover’ when we’re in most situations outside so not having your cap is a large, visible no-no.

And my hair! I was a senior non-commissioned officer. I’m expected to set an example, etc. But in my dream, I said, I can fix this.

I knew I had caps. I just needed to find them. And for the hair — show me a barber! That last was fixed almost immediately as I headed toward the Base Exchange complex. There’ll be someone to cut my hair there. As it’s an anxiety dream, you’d think I’d encountered difficulties with that, but nope! They were open, a chair was available, I had money to pay…it all went great.

Next, the hats. I went to my quarters and pawed through my gear. Yes, there was the proper cover for this ensemble selection. In fact, as I thought I knew, I had two.

Both were filthy, though. Well, hell, no problem. Soap, water, scrubbing, and they were clean and serviceable within minutes.

Dream end. Reviewing the dream, I was pleased. Had anxieties, but problems covered. Heh. Sorry ’bout the pun.

As frequently in my dreams, I was again a young person. One of my best friends during that period was my cousin, and he was in that dream. We were the same height but I was broad-shouldered while he was narrow. Within a few years, he would grow taller, becoming eight inches taller than me. As he swerved toward the right wing, our friendship split apart.

My aunt, his mother, was also in the dream. She was telling that we needed to get ready. With some fast dream talking and thinking, I realized some formal event was happening. I needed a suit and didn’t have one. Somehow I got hold of my cousin’s suit. Sky blue, the suit was a standard American classic cut but made of an unusual fabric that reminded me of a nylon scrub pad. I folded the suit up and put it in a machine that looked like a carrying kennel for animals. Withdrawing it after a few seconds, I discovered that the arms had shrunk, becoming narrow and short. The suit would now fit neither of us. It was also soaking wet, which puzzled me. It hadn’t been my intention to ruin the suit. Now feeling terrible about it, I started walking around wandering, where can I get two suits now?

That’s how and where the dream ended.

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Mom’s House – A Dream

First, this isn’t anything like Mom’s real life house.

I was sleeping in the dream when something awoke me. I stayed in bed listening. Shades were pulled but daylight was growing visible through the slates. I knew I was in Mom’s and I thought I was alone but I was hearing noises downstairs. As I listened, I realized it was one of my younger sisters, so I dressed and went downstairs.

Down there, I found an open door that led to a patio. A man in half-removed black leather clothing was prostrate on the patio. My sister was further out on the patio, busy doing things. We said hello, and then I asked about the man. She said it was my cousin, Rick. (Due to the marriages and divorces, Rick isn’t her cousin.) Rick, half sleep or drunk, said with a grin and eyes barely open, “Yes, it’s me, Rick. I came to see you.” He then went to sleep.

I moved on out onto the patio. I’d need seen this house of Mom’s before, and was amazed. It was a white cement modern design on the ocean’s shore. Sunshine brightly lit the day. The tide was coming in, entertaining me with smells and thunderous cracking sounds. I was pleased and astonished and talked to my sister about this.

But — the house was right on the shore, although there was an elevation down to the sea. The incoming tide was coming closer and closer to the house, slashing the rocks and earth with heavy rolling waves. I worried about the house flooding, and watched until the waves were right at the house’s foundations.

Then something moved on my vision’s edge, flagging my attention: a black and white kitten was cavorting about on a cement piece. It disappeared.

I hustled over to look for it. It was down under white cement bridge trusses, along with another kitten. The second one was playing in the sea water. Horrified, afraid they needed rescued, I leaned further over.

A man and boy were down with the kittens. With me watching, the boy retreated, calling the kittens, who ran after him.

I headed back for Mom’s house. Now I could see more of its exterior broaded slabs of glass and white cement at arty angles, a very modern and interesting design, with several patios, porches, and balconies. I also saw then that the water had completed retreated already. I asked myself, “How did that happen so fast?”

Going over, I spoke with my sister, pointing out the tide threat to the house, because climate change was raising water levels. I showed her where I can see how high the water used to go, and compared it to this latest. My sister was dismissive, answering, “I know, but this is Mom’s house. It’s not my problem.”

I chastised her for that thinking but left. Mom and her partner arrived. We talked about the house but then she mentioned her other house and wanted her partner to go check on it because there’d be a storm early in the week. I volunteered to go with him and we headed for the door. Mom stopped me and said, “Do you need money? I can give you some if you need it.” I graciously turned her down, thanking her as I did.

Her partner and I arrived at another place. Isolated and not nearly as grand as the place which I’d just left, surrounded by mud and puddles, it was also white and modern, although it all looked shabby and dirty. I asked him, “Whose house is this?” When he replied that it belong to him and my mother, I followed up, “You two bought it together?”

“Yes,” he answered.

He and I made our way into the house. There was no furniture. In the kitchen, I discovered warped, damaged cupboards. I pointed these out to him, and he agreed, these needed to be replaced. I found an open window. Showing him, I asked, “Is this always left open?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, that’s what’s damaging the inside. That needs to be closed.”

Dream end.

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‘Nother Military Dream

It was another military dream but with a marked difference. First, a friend, Jeff, who was also in the military was in the dream.

I was at some unidentified Air Force base. I was a chief master sergeant, E9, and was due to attend a conference of CMS that was due to start. (This is two ranks above my RL retired rank.) I worried about my hair, my uniform, and my shoes as attendees began arriving. But I slipped away and pressed my uniform, taking care of that, putting razor sharp creases in it. Then I stayed low until the barber opened. When I walked into the barber shop, there were two barbers and no customers, so either one could immediately cut my hair. Both knew me by name.

After getting my hair cut, I left the shop and looked down at my shoes. They were scuffed and old. I said to myself, those aren’t my shoes, and they immediately changed into highly polished new shoes.

I felt a lot better about myself. I ran into Jeff, also a CMS. He and I chatted. I ended up telling him about a cousin who died of cancer (a cancer did die of cancer in RL). We were walking around as we talked. Female military spouses were all over the place, and they kept flirting with me. The attention flattered me.

Jeff and I stayed together through the morning, sitting down and eating. Then the conference was due to start. Another CMS came up and asked if I was going, because it was getting under way. I told him that I’d left the military twice and came back twice, but now I’m done. I wasn’t going to attend. I was taking off my uniform and leaving.

I went off to find a bathroom. When I found one, I undressed and then peed and discovered that my pecker was half purple. One of the wives walked in on me. While taking a long look at my body, she apologized for entering. I replied, “I don’t mind. I’m just wondering why my penis is half purple.”

Dream end.

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A Weird Car Trip Dream

Friends and I were awakening from sleep in a darkly cluttered place. Three or four others were there, including one friend from RL forty years ago. The others were dream friends but not anyone from this RL. As the sun rose, an old stage, perhaps once part of a high school but now outside, gained substance.

We talked about news while sitting up, rubbing sleep out of our faces, and stretching. One was complaining that people didn’t understand the news and headlines. Someone suggested that we should do plays where we would just read headlines and stories and then explain them. Sounded good to me. Someone else said that we needed to clean the area up but I asked why because the stage with its clutter and junk seemed like a meta statement about our world. As this conversation went on, the sun rose, daylight came up, papers were dropped off on the stage and people became walking past. We’d been rolling up our sleeping bags, putting other shirts on, and making coffee. Now one guy picked up a newspaper and started reading it aloud. People going past stopped to listen.

I went down steps, out the back, and met my cousin. He and I went off to collect our clothing, which was somewhere else, because we needed to get ready to go. He kept talking about what he was going to wear and asking my opinion of his ideas, but I wasn’t deeply invested in that and didn’t respond much. Reaching a building, we went upstairs and found our open suitcases. This wasn’t the clothes we wanted; that was at Mom’s house, my cousin thought, suggesting that we go there. I told my wife where we were going. She decided to come with us.

We entered a large white vehicle with a thick black stripe down each side. The inside was flat and wide, with a thin, gray carpet on the floor. Windows were on every side, giving great visibility. Some gray folding chairs were set up in it in the front, but we would need more. I set up some chairs that I found, dubbing one in the second row by the window as ‘mine’. Two people were already seated in the front row, where three chairs were set up. One of those was my SIL, who was waiting to leave as well, which startled me. For some reason, I didn’t expect her there.

My cousin had disappeared, and so had my wife. I went out to Mom’s home and found the clothes which I wanted, and put on a green shirt to wear while I traveled. Going back outside I saw cars pulling up and parking on the lush green lawn. “They’re not going to like that,” I told others several times, talking about the people who lived in this housing area. “They’re proud of their lawn. They should move their cars before they’re found.”

Everyone ignored me. I found my cousin back inside Mom’s house. Mom was talking to him as he complained that his clothes weren’t there. I looked and discovered that the suitcase holding his clothes had been emptied. I told him that he would just need to go in what he was wearing, which really upset him.

I returned to the white car. Nobody had set up any more chairs. The driver was present, adjusting his folding chair as a seat, along with my SIL, who was still in her seat. My wife was in the seat which I’d designated for myself. I complained about that with her; she ignored me. Exasperated, I set up another chair behind my SIL. I asked her where she was going, and she answered, “The same place as you.”

I responded, “I’m going back to school.”

She answered, “So am I.”

The car rocked with movement. Going to a window and looking out, I discovered that the car was tall and much larger than expected. We seemed to be twenty feet off the ground. I didn’t know how that was possible.

Dreams ends as the car moves forward with me looking out the window and others talking behind me.

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The Designing Dream

First, a woman and I each were given a task to design a swimming pool. This was done in a wide building with low lights. I couldn’t see anything except our work. We each built one but came up with the same L design in off-white. We built them quickly. Along the way, we had lessons in ensuring seams were smooth and tight. Then it came time to fill it. I rolled a suitcase up to one side, inside the pool, jockeying it around on its wheels until I thought it perfectly parked. I then opened the suitcase and began pulling out clothing. I examined each piece, ensuring it was neatly folded, then piled the clothes around me. The clothes piles multiplied like rabbits during breeding season.

That segment ended. I was told that I need to come up with a new ear canal. I quickly devised one, put it in someone’s ear, then walked into it. The ear canal was straight, round, and light blue, but tapered as it went in, ending in the ear drum. “Oh,” I said, inspecting it. “It shouldn’t go straight back to the ear drum like that. The ear drum is left too exposed. Curves are needed to protect it.” Developing curves, the ear canal grew light pink. I backed out of it until I was standing beside a man looking into his ear.

A new segment began. I was at my aunt’s house. She’d had a new place designed and built, she said, effusively greeting me amid charming smiles. Many cousins were present, not just from that aunt, but from all my uncles and aunts on Dad’s side. I was about twenty. They were all eager to impress me and show me around. The setting seemed luxurious. Arched stained-glass windows lined the walls, along with paintings in gold frames. Dark green houseplants were everywhere. Dark green carpeting, and overstuffed leather chairs and a sofa arranged polished, dark wood end tables and coffee tables completed the setting. I could see into other rooms as well, glimpsing a long, polished dining table, part of a modern kitchen, and the side of a billiard table through an open doorway.

A cousin said, “Let me show you around.” In RL, this is a man who was four years younger than me, who died years ago, passing away in his forties from a heart attack as a pizza was delivered to him. This aunt wasn’t his mother, either; her youngest sister was the deceased cousin’s mother.

I asked where a specific room is. He answered, “That’s downstairs.” Seeing a staircase that went down, I confidently headed for it.

He caught up with me and asked, “What are you doing?”

I said, “You said that it was downstairs.”

“You can’t get to it from those stairs. Follow me.” He turned and led me up a staircase to an open area above everything. Looking down, I saw people with drinks engaged in conversations and milling about the rooms. My cousin pointed to another flight of stairs going down. “That’s how you get down.”

I said with some wonder, “You need to go up to get down?” I thought that was a strange design.

My aunt appeared beside me and nodded with a smile. “You need to go up to get down.”

The dream ended.

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The DJ Dream

My cousin and I were young disc jockeys at a small radio station. We were pretty good and enjoying ourselves. Unfortunately, something my cousin said caused him trouble with management. Since I was there, I as indicted by them for the transgression. As punishment, we were to cut the grass.

The grass was on a small knoll. It was about knee high on what was essentially an overgrown but healthy lawn. Using hand tools, and then electric string trimmers, we cut the grass back, complaining as we did. Chief critical observation by us was how a radio station was using us for yard work as punishment.

Meanwhile, my cats required feeding. I went to feed the three of them. Frantic for food, they encircled me, a caterwauling trio. I had to move some asparagus dip. When I did that, the cats begged me for some. I wasn’t certain if asparagus dip was safe for them but put some on a plate. The young orange one at once jumped on the plate, knocking other things off it. I then decided the dip wasn’t safe for them so I took the plate away, opened some standard cat food, and fed them.

Back with my cousin, he was finishing cutting the grass. I told him to stop because we shouldn’t be doing that. He and I went inside where other people were gathering. My cousin and I decided we were going to quit the station. We then joined some people inside, in a large but cluttered room. They were trying to solve a problem with a water on a roof. The problem was the way the way the water was being routed to be removed from the room. They had three diagrams. Each showed a similar looping design. The people were trying to decide which was the best solution. I took the diagrams from them and compared them to the roof.

“None of these will work,” I said. I pointed out the roof had overhang. The diagrams didn’t take that into account so the proposals were al flawed. I kept having to explain it and show the diagrams to people and compare them to the roof. People suddenly began agreeing with me, telling me, “You’re right. They won’t work.” They wondered how they missed that.

A woman came by and asked if my cousin and I were going to DJ. We looked at each other. I answered, “No, speaking for me, I’m done with that.” She then said, “I have a better offer for you if you want to come with me.” After some back and forth with questions and answers, I realized she was offering me a job as a DJ with a national network. My cousin was welcome to come but they were offering me the position, and they would find something for him. Hearing this, my cousin grew upside and threw a tantrum. The woman said that I should pursue it because it was a great opportunity, and that if I did, I could help my cousin. I reluctantly accepted.

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Watery Dreams

Another night of crazy dreams. In many scenes, I was engaged in traversing muddy water. Sometimes I was in a car, other times I was swimming, but there were times when I was also walking. The water was consistently muddy, but was creeks, rivers, or floods. Past the water, the dream settings varied from streets to fields, but were mostly streets. I never felt threatened or disturbed, although I sometimes became lost and had to backtrack. My attitude was more of, “Oh, here I go again, well, let’s get this done with.” In fact, I seemed buoyant. (Yeah, sorry for that word choice. Clearly I’m not, right?)

I was mostly alone during these scenes. My youngest sister showed up twice, a cousin showed up once, and friends showed up a few times. Between coping with the fast-moving and often rising water, I would do other things: eat, buy a new car, look at a new house, and visit with people, talking about their jobs or their love lives. A strange mix. If you take the position that everyone and everything in the dream represents some aspect of me, then me mind was trying to address everything! After yesterday’s events in Washington, D.C., it’s not really a surprising flow of dreams. The water is muddy and it’s rising, but I’m okay, I’m telling myself.

Hope the rest of you are okay, too, though I have my doubts about the people invested in the Trump reality. They don’t seem okay.

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Monday Miscellany

  1. Dreamed that I was concerned about a young cat. Young, I was busy working somewhere. Constantly watching over it, I kept worrying about it having food, enough to eat, and being safe. In an odd moment in the dream, as I turned to go down a hallway and check on the cat, I thought, the cat is me. Strange dream moment. The entire dream had a quality of peeking into a different version of my existence.
  2. In the same dream, interspersed with my concerns about the cat, my cousin, Rick was planning to take me to meet his son, Danny. Like a recurring gag, Rick would appear and ask me when I was ready to go. I’d be blank: “Go where?” Then I would remember, “Oh, that’s right, to go meet…” Then I’d blank on the name and he would supply, “Danny.” Once best friends, I haven’t seen this cousin in over twenty years. We drifted into different directions, as they say. He had a son who I’ve never seen. I don’t recall the son’s name. He divorced that young woman within months of her giving birth to his son. I don’t know what all this means.
  3. An Uber self-driving car has killed someone. Uber isn’t being charged. Thinking, shades of Isaac Asimov, I conjured a story where a person is set up to be killed by a self-driving car.
  4. My wife was reading about “Death Wish” coffee. She thinks it might be a coffee that speaks to me. She reading aloud some hilarious Amazon reviews. “I bought this to keep me alert and focused at work. By my second cup I no longer needed a keyboard or mouse, as I was able to control my computer directly by thought. By the third cup I could hear colors and smell sounds. After my fourth cup, I decided to burn off some of the excess energy with a quick jog, and ended up finishing the Kessel Run in 11 parsecs flat!” Another: “Dear Death Wish, I just tried your coffee after receiving it the other day. I always start my day with about 4 cups so I thought, “Eh, why not”. After about the 3d cup I decided to start that kitchen demolition I had been wanting to do. But I forgot to turn off the water beforehand. Then I thought, “Eh, I always wanted an indoor pool”. Then I thought I should cut a hole in the roof to accommodate a skylight for the pool. Everything is going to plan but I need more coffee now. I need to start on installing the diving board.”
  5. Some serious crazy is seeping out of the GOP. Renea Turner calls herself “Trump in a skirt”. (I wonder if she grabs men by their peckers?) A woman who ran as a write-in candidate against Ohio Governor Mike DeWine in 2018, she declared herself governor of the state because she’s decided that DeWine overstepped his legal authority. She’s been implicated in a plot to kidnap and prosecute Gov. DeWine. This is at least the second such plot against a governor revealed in the last thirty days.
  6. We heard about twenty-three year-old Ryquell Armstead this weekend. Who is he? A professional running back with the Jacksonville Jaguars, he’s been out with COVID-19 the entire season. Quoting ESPN.com, “Armstead has been hospitalized twice and has suffered from a variety of complications connected to the virus, including significant respiratory issues, and has been hit harder than some expected.” That’s the issue with COVID-19: you don’t know how it will affect you. He is Black, and we know that Blacks are more susceptible, but he’s also young, and a trained athlete. It’s scary what the virus can do. He’s expected to recover and play next but the obvious caveat is that he was never expected to be out this long and have the complications that he’s experienced. As former New Jersey governor Chris Christie discovered, having COVID-19 can be a painful and exhausting experience, even if you survive. He, who did not wear masks all the times, is now a convert and urges, “Wear a mask.” I agree.
  7. My fiction writing continues to come along but it’s fitful process. As noted before, I miss the structure I created with my routines. I also miss the solitude said routines created, along with the stimulation caused by casual contacts. But I persevere because I’m stupid that way, and the tale that I’m discovering continues to entertain me. Time passes so swiftly each day, though. I find myself wondering what happened to the hours. Got my coffee, though, so it’s time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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