Tag: Dreams

The Space Traveling Dream Again

2:58 AM.

I awoke. Alarm seizes me. I don’t think I’ve set the rechargers for the house.

Was I supposed to set the rechargers for the house?

Does the house — can the house be recharged?

But it has to be recharged. Its engines need to be recharged.

Does the have engines? No, it doesn’t have engines.

Then how does it move?

These were my thoughts as I sat up in bed, suddenly awoke, coping again, with the dream about the house flying through space. I’ve dreamed this seven times recently, posting about it a few times. In it, my house and plot of land have been lifted from the Earth. My wife and cats are with me, and I’m actually impressed and pleased that we’re flying through space. Aliens have done this, I know, but I don’t know why.

After awakening from the dream, I visit the bathroom and check on the cats. Papi, the ginger blade, is drinking from the water bowl on the front porch. Tucker, the black and white enigma, was on the back porch drinking water from that bowl. Interesting symmetry. I returned to bed, and to sleep. Other dreams were experienced but whenever I awoke, I thought immediately of the house flying through space, and whether I’d recharged the engines.

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A Dream of Friends

It was a short one. I was young again. Looked like I was in my twenties.

Hustling along through a building, I passed through a doorway and down a short fight of steps. In there were many friends and co-workers. (I realized on awakening that all were male.)

I don’t know how many were there. None of these people have been seen in the last dozen years, and most haven’t been seen or spoken with since the last century.

We were all wearing tee shirts, the sort worn to support sports teams and rock bands. All were young like me. Several of us took seats in a semi-circle around a fire pit which had no fire. Others took seats behind us. We were talking, joking, laughing, playing tricks on one another and just acting silly. I recognized at least Jeff, Gil, Ray, Jim. An ex-brother-in-law was seated beside me on my right. Gil was two seats over on my left.

A man began playing guitar and singing. Dressed in black trimmed with silver, he was seated in a chair off to one side, an amplifier beside him. Despite the amp, he played and sang low. We all needed to stay silent to hear him. The song was his own composition, I was told by another. I don’t remember any of the lyrics or melodies. I remember thinking that he could be a professional. Gil said, “It’s like we’re at a concert.” Ian answered, “We are at a concert.” That exchange brought out some chuckling.

The concert ended. We all stood, socializing. Jeff, who I saw earlier, came in. He was wearing a different tee shirt. It had Roberto Clemente’s likeness and number on it. Clemente had been my childhood hero. Grinning, I went to Jeff and said, “Hello, Roberto.”

Jeff was much smaller than I remembered him being. He was taller than me in RL. Although he looked as he did back when we worked together, he was now a foot shorter. “Hello,” he answered, grinning.

Dream end.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: low-energy. Don’t know if that qualifies as ‘mood’. Feels like my batteries are blinking with a ‘recharge now’ message. Or maybe I just have the Wednesdays.

Yes, Wednesday, July 26, 2023, pulled into Ashlandia, where the skies are not cloudy today. Low was in the upper fifties this morning and the high will pull the numbers into the lower nineties. While the fires continue burning north, east, and south, and advisories warning us about our air quality is out, the sky is blue and the air is smoke free. If we can play keep away with the smoke, a lovely summer day will reward us.

After another dream invasion, I awoke thinking about dreams, my mind, and memories. Last night’s thinking about doors in my mind and event boundaries just before going to sleep probably contributed to that. The Neurons ended up plugging a 1967 song by The Amboy Dukes called “Journey to the Center of the Mind” into the morning mental music stream (trademark imagined). This song has a bit of prog to it — reminds me of several Moody Blues works — with a psychedelic edge. The lead guitarist knew his stuff. It’s a guy named Ted Nugent. I don’t usually share his work because I consider him repugnant. On a scale of one to ten, he goes to eleven. It’s about his interest in sex with thirteen year old girls and his comments about not every man being created equal. It’s not a question of his politics; he’s just hateful.

But we’re going with this music to satisfy Les Neurons (who just fired up “Satisfaction” by the Stones in the morning mental music stream). You be strong, safe, positive. Work it as best as you can, right?

Okay, my coffee is singing to me. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Car Dream

I usually dream of sports cars, especially Porsches. Last night, I dreamed I was standing on the side of a divided highway. Seemed like an Interstate. I never saw myself so I don’t know what dream version of me was being offered up.

I was waiting for a car, though. A white Chrysler was coming. I wasn’t familiar with this Chrysler — I’ve never owned one and I would’ve been five when this car was on the road though I’d naturally know them as used cars — but I knew the one coming, a sparkling white convertible from the early 1960s, with a large chrome grill and front reflecting the landscape as it came on, was the car I awaited.

That’s all the dream was, except when I saw it coming, I thought, at last. Looking it up today, here was the car of my dream.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: mellow

I love the mornings, when calm rules, before I get into the news, before the weather shifts. Life outside the windows is firing up on the human side. Machinery is doing its thing somewhere. Loud-voiced neighbors preparing for a trip talk things over, greet passers-by, that sort of thing. A cool breeze teases me into thinking better things are coming.

This is Monday, July 17, 2023. Gonna be in the low 90s again today, although it’s in the 60s F right now. A layer of thin clouds ruled in yesterday and cut our temperature and stirred a breeze. We barely touched 80 F and those breezes were wonderful gifts. Hope others under the heat dome get some breaks, along with those dealing with flooding in India, Japan, and parts of the US.

We were talking about “Sing Along with Mitch”. That would be Mitch Miller. Started as part of a Trivial Pursuit question. Cards were at the table when we were having brunch. My wife and I enjoy asking and answering those question.

One question was, what was the name of Mitch Miller’s backup singers? Neither of us knew. We vividly remembered the show. I looked it up later; it was on in the early 1960s. So, I’m thinking, how do I remember that show so vividly?

The Neurons posted three songs in the morning mental music stream (trademark — what’s that?) competing for Monday’s theme music. First was Tom Petty with “Runnin’ Down A Dream”. Know what that was about? Yeah, trying to remember a dream I’d had. Came after a bit of noodling. Second song was “Whip It” by Devo. Cause I’d gotten up and was organizing things to do in my head. Third offering, “That Smell” by Lynerd Skynerd, which came up when I brewed my morning java. I went with “Running’ Down A Dream” because I liked the energy it brought.

I sooo remember that song coming out in 1989. Stationed in Germany. We were a small flying unit, pretty relaxed and friendly with one another. Rockers dominated. Several officers swept by my office to ask me if I’d heard the new Petty song. Indeed, I had. Soon as, I popped over to the Main Exchange and procured my own CD. They — and their spouses — were a good group of folks.

Time to press on. Stay pos, stay strong, and work the day like it’s made of clay. I’m havin’ my coffee. Love how the hot brew slips into my mouth, chatting up the taste buds as it does its flow, exchanging excited greetings with The Neurons, then washing down, warming my gullet. Good times. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Winceday’s Theme Music

We got you Wednesday here. *wince*. July 5, 2023. Back to work, ye scurvy dogs. 2023 is more than half gone. On the bright side, you have less than half left. *wince* Time is running up on you. You, me, and the rest.

Gonna be 97 F today. *wince*. Good thing it’s Wednesday. Meeting with friends to indulge in some cold beer. We’ve divided between the light and the dark sides. The light side will be partaking of an IPA while the dark side is going for ale, because it’s summer, and some of them don’t like their beer too dark in the summer.

Ah, such strange dreams this morning in the dark hours. *wince*. Don’t know what they meant, if anything. We had root beer floats with friends on their deck last night, another of our traditions. We usually watch fireworks with them. I’d rather not have the fireworks. Animals and environment don’t need that kind.

Fireworks were illegal this year in Ashlandia, where the bus doesn’t go all the way uptown and the children are chauffeured. Too dry and hot. Still beset by drought. Yet, there will be some who will set off their fireworks cause, ‘Merica. Freedom. Tucker didn’t mind them. Papi, though, hid out for hours. He’s okay this morning but he wasn’t a happy floofy last night.

Today’s music is “Stranger Blues” with Steve Miller and Peter Frampton. Just cause I like the sound, and not because of something said last night, causing The Neurons to start playing it, where it still plays in the morning mental music stream.

Stay pos, be chill, and don’t let the boogerheads get you down. Coffee is served, sir. Here’s the music. Enjoy, please.

Cheers

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The Space Dream

I dreamed I was traveling through space. My house and its lot had been lifted away from the Earth, and there we went, soundlessly zooming through space. After thinking in the dream, is that what’s happening, I was given a distant perspective that confirmed, yep, there I go, with the house, wife, cats, and yard.

I pointed it all to my wife, calling to her as she did something in another room. All I had no idea what our destination was and had questions — was I onboard a larger ship, and who launched us like this — I enjoyed being out there. I was exactly as I now am, as was my house and yard. I saw this from a temporary external position, as though I needed to see it, before returning into my body. Settling behind my desk in my home office, I resumed my typing.

I awoke abruptly. In panic, I thought, where are the cats? Where are Tucker and Papi? Did I put them out? OMG, did I put them out in space? But if I put them out into the yard, wouldn’t they be safe, because it’s — it’s — wait.

Confusion mounting and taking over, I stumbled away from bed, thinking, where am I now? What should I do? If I open the door, would it — what would happen? But —

I’d been in space. But wasn’t that a dream? Or was I now dreaming? Neurons regrouping, we agreed with a laugh, being in space was the dream. Reality was that I was home, securely part of the Earth. But I went out and found the cats, ensuring they were really okay, just in case, you know, and then gazed up at the stars and moon for a few seconds with recollection of the dream.

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Friday’s Theme Music

This is it, the final countdown, the last rodeo of the June 2023 season. Today is Friday, June 30, 2023. We blast off into July, 2023 tomorrow. To mark it, the weather directors have punched our temps up into the high nineties. Decent humidity, though, the kind that isn’t felt, but nor is it dry.

Had a wild dream night. Local scamper floofs A & B, commonly known as Tucker and Papi awoke me at 4:46 AM. Tucker did the awakening, tapping my hand with a claw until I began petting him. He wouldn’t be denied. Drifting through half-warm thoughts, I began working on my novel in my head. Finally fell asleep and dreamed, interweaving novel fixin’s with dream fixin’s. Papi then was in, eating — crunch, crunch — which, yeah, great, but then, he cried because he wanted out, and Tucker was a few feet away from the pet door, outside, watching, and Papi just don’t trust Tucker. He finally escaped because Tucker came in through the pet door, leaving the opening on the other side unguarded, letting Papi make a break. I put this altogether by hearing a noise, raising my head, peering, observing, and then lowering my head and trying to return to sleep. Reprised the dream/writing cycle, got interrupted by Tucker vigorously employing his scratching pad, returned to dreaming/writing, and then Tucker came back to request more finger action.

Writing while in bed trying to sleep is never good for me. I get into it, it excites me, and The Neurons won’t back down, and then the muses move in and provoke The Neurons. Then, though, then, the muses began playing Eddie Money, “Think I’m In Love” (1982) in the morning mental music stream. Six thirty came so I got up, opened windows and doors, and welcome a cup of coffee into my life.

Opened openings to combat the coming heat. We have air and it works fine but I’m not an A/C person. Dislike them in stores, restaurants, movie theaters, and the house, Just feels so damn chill to me. Rather sweat a bit. But most Americans seem adverse to sweating. One of those peeves for me.

So, here’s Eddie Money and the band. Let’s raise a toast to June’s final day. My toast has butter and grape jelly. BTW, you know how hard it is to get organic grape jelly these days? Most of ’em are loaded with high-fructose corn syrup, to which, as a progressive, I say, no thanks. Oh, well. Stay as pos as you can. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

It’s raining again, a light falling, bringing up SuperTramp’s song from fifty years ago. Today is Jun 9, 2023. Friday. Last night’s thunderstorms skirting us. We could hear them like someone shouting from far away. “What?” You should back. “I don’t know what you’re saying.” You strain to hear and then just shake your head and walk away, muttering, “I can’t understand them.”

As for rain last night, it spit on us a bit a few times, but left us alone. Temperature topped 84 F locally, for the record.

Of course, yesterday started with a blue sky. Blue is as rare today as snow on a summer lawn. Clouds of different colors, depths and textures, ranging from flat white with a tincture of gray to billowing, curly, unkempt clouds edgy with dark pockets, have blanketed the sky. It’s 61 F now and the weather gurus tell us 79 will be the high, and there will be rain and thunderstorms later today. As always with weather, we’ll see.

Several songs inhabit the morning mental scream. “Wipe Out”. “Sweat Pea”. The Neurons are mixing weather, writing, and dream inputs. But I went with the song which came up after the dream sequences finished, “Fly Like An Eagle” by The Steve Miller Band, 1976.

Hope you stay pos and enjoy a most excellent Friday. I’m enjoying a most excellent cup of coffee. Establishes my baseline for the day. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Received some rain and thunder boomers yesterday afternoon. The house floofs took it in different ways. Tucker was all mellow, like, stop that noise, I’m trying to sleep. Papi came in and found a secure place beside me, remaining there, quiet and awake, until it was all over.

It’s Sunday, May 28, 2023. Spring pressed the rain button for Ashlandia one more time for today. Oh, the smell yesterday and this morning was wonderfully fresh, a restorative tonic for my senses. Clouds rule as far as my vision takes in. 64 now, we’ll be peeking into the mid to upper seventies by mid-afternoon, the weather jockeys say.

I was conversing with myself about a dream and its meaning, chuckling at a clear cliché which had been used. I scoffed at my dream manager. “Well, that’s not original.” Liking that, The Neurons kicked off “Come Original” by 311 from the turn of last century. I’d not heard the song in eons that I recall but then wondered, did I hear it somewhere in the background? Who knows with the mind, hey?

I’ve had brekkie, and some coffee. Time to launch the day in a serious way. Stay pos, yo? Here’s 311. Cheers

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