Tag: food

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

My brain let slip to my stomach, “He brought a boatload of food home,” ‘he’ being me.

My stomach immediately began berating me to go eat things. “The Neurons told me you have dark chocolate coconut cups. Let’s eat a couple of those.”

“No.”

“They said there was a sandwich in there. Let’s eat that.”

“No.”

“What about the canteloupe?”

“No.”

“Come on, man, let us eat something. We’re starving here.”

“You’re not starving. You had a large breakfast. What’s the matter with you?”

My stomach groaned. “Fooooddd.”

Honestly, you’d think I haven’t eaten in a year, the way my stomach is going on.

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Three Wolves Dream

I was at a family gathering. Big family, large spread of food, all set up on a large piece of empty land. The celebration was taking place under a sprawling wooded pavilion. Painted brown, it was loaded with grills and picnic tables, and all were in use. Music was playing, and people were talking, laughing, and dancing.

This wasn’t my family, though, at least not my real-life family, or a family I know from this time and place. But they were my dream family.

Anyway, food had been consumed. Having eaten and feeling full, I was just out strolling on my own on a field adjacent to the pavilion. Mostly level, covered with gold tinged green grasses, the field rose in a lengthy and leisurely uneven slope to a sun bathed crest. I was out several hundred yards from the pavilion when I saw three critters come over the crest and pause, looking around. In those seconds, I realized they were wolves.

I thought about heading back to the pavilion but saw I was now closer to the wolves than the pavilion. The wolves headed down the slope, pausing to sniff and look around on their journey. I began a slow and careful walk back toward the pavilion. The wolves hadn’t noticed me and I wanted to keep it that way.

But their progress was faster. Breaking into an easy lope, they’d put themselves between me and the pavilion. No one in the pavilion seemed aware of them. I didn’t think the wolves would come after me but deciding to be ready, I found a pile of black rocks. I picked up one to throw and discovered that I could break the rock up into smaller pieces. I did that until I had a pile of hand-sized missiles by my foot.

The wolves were about seventy feet away. They still weren’t looking at me. I had a rock in each hand, ready to throw with my right arm and then reload.

Then – presto – the wolves are large German Shepherds. I keep the rocks because German Shepherds can also attack but watching the dogs gambol, tails wagging, I’m less worried. On some signal invisible to me the three dogs turn and head back up the hill. I was never noticed or threatened. Dropping the rocks, I watch them go. As they’re halfway up the hill, they seem to change again, and were wolves. That left me wondering, were they wolves or dogs?

Dream end.

There are so many elements of my life in there about isolation, separation, and fears that seem to be there, but never materialize into threats. Yet, I always prepare for them.

That’s life.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunlow (Sunday mellow)

This is Sunday, January 7, 2024. It was a wintry day this morning after a 24 hours of competing precipitation. We cycled through various snow forms, slush, and pellets with fog smearing the background optics. The sun would prairie dog in to see what was happening on the ground but the air stayed chill. Looking out and seeing the situation, my wife said, “It’s good to be retired.”

Today brought us light snow in some places layered over 32 F air temp. My partner had a birthday party to attend. I’d been excused to do my thing but that plan collapsed when she saw the roads and asked if I’d go to the party. You know, so I could drive. Thus is why I’m posting late.

Good party, and worth attending, a friend, Barb, celebrating number 80. She did it right with champagne and mimosas and tables starting to splinter under the weight of food. While Barb made most, people also brought food (my wife took her five minute almond tarts, an Ashlandia favorite). (Ashlandia, where the food is above average.) To complement those food offerings, Barb also hired a crepe truck. We had choices of caprese, lemon, cinammon, or chocolate crepes made to order. With a house packed full with friends, and people coming and going from ten AM until the planned end, seven PM, how could you not but have a good time?

I went walking yesterday afternoon, enjoying the wintry ambiance. Reminded me of young years in the places where I lived where climate invited snow and ice on a regular basis — Ohio, Iowa, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Illinois, West Virginia. Breathing in cold air, same cold air scolding my skin, a little dribble out of my nostrils. Snow changes sound and light. When you’re out there alone, a sense of isolation descends. I could hear my breathing, feel my heartbeat, and entertained new thinking.

The Neurons unleashed “Good Feeling” into the mental music stream, and it carried over into today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark frozen). “Good Feeling” is by Flo Rida and was released waaayyy back in 2011. It’s good music for me for today because despite what reality might push into my face, I remain optmistic and I have a feeling things will get better. Fingers crossed. Knock on wood.

Before I close, I want to offer this for reflection: the ‘sound’ of the solar wind. Because everything isn’t about the privilge and deprivation of this world’s people. There’s something out there beyond ourselves. This ‘sound’ comes to us unnoticed every second of every minute, hour, day, month, year. Pausing to consider it offers perspective that existence is more than this planet and what we see and hear. Yes, many reply, but this is our home, and the only place where we are — well, as far as we know with our limited understanding.

Stay pos, be real, be strong, and lean forward. Coffee has been served; hurry before it runs out. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along and rap along. Cheers
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Christmas’s Theme Music

Mood: holidayish

Happy holidays and merry Christmas, world. It’s Monday, December 25, 2023 in Ashlandia, where the weather doesn’t resemble winter today. 51 F with strong winds kicking the trees around and fog keeping the sun socked in makes it less than merry out there. It disappoints the cats who are like, “This isn’t what we ordered. We ordered sunshine and warm weather. Turn off the winds or someone will pay.”

Been exchanging texts with family today. Mom has some potential DVT issues. Her doctor wanted her in for tests today but she rejected that, heading to her daughter’s house to celebrate the day and eat. Almost veryone gravitated toward little sister number two’s house for a holiday meal. It was a small spread.

She and my other sisters take after Mom and are good cooks. Dessert is off in another area.

COVID is rising, judging anecdotally. Another friend reported positive, with sneezing, coughing, body aches, and a fever. He’s the fifth in our circle in the last three weeks. A sister and her hubby are down with COVID back in the home zone, and it’s reported to be bad. Hope they all fully recovered.

Today’s holiday music comes by way of my spouse. She heard Duke Ellington and His Orchestra doing a jazz interpretation of The Nutcracker Suite. Here they are with “Sugar Rum Cherry (Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy)”.

Stay pos, move forward, be strong, and test negative. Wishing you all the best for the rest of this year and many more years to come. Off we go, coffee in hand, ho, ho, ho.

Here’s the music. Cheers

6

The Receptacles Dream

I’ve been experiencing many messy dreams lately, just full of chaos, a far cry from my normally orderly dream sequences.

A remembered dream from last night flowed from chasing kittens to distractions about flowers and weather to examining hair on my face. Then more lucid sequences jumped in.

I was given a brown bag of sandwiches. Hungry, pleased, I thanked the individual giving them to me (unseen off dream), went off a few steps and opened the bag to eat. First sandwich was egg salad on wheat bread — delicious. I scarfed the food down. Still hungry, I opened the bag and discovered three sandwiches were inside. One was hot meatballs with melted cheese which smelled amazing. Someone came by. They looked hungry, so I offered them a sandwich, which they accepted. Overhearing the transaction, another person hurried over, told me that they were hungry, and asked if I had another sandwich to spare.

I did, I answered, and opened the bag. Five sandwiches were inside. Flabbergasted, I thought that I must have miscounted. I realized one was an egg salad on wheat and another was another meatball with melted cheese. Another person had come up, hoping to get a sandwich, so I gave them one and saw that I had more sandwiches. Though incredulous and suspicious, that made me laugh. I told the others about how the bag seemed to be magic, because every time I took sandwich out, several more appeared in it. We all talked about this and how it seemed impossible because the bag was small, but I showed them that there were five sandwiches in the bag. Then I took two sandwiches out and now had seven sandwiches in the bag.

Taking two sandwiches out for myself for later, I gave them the bag and told them to share the sandwiches with others. But after they removed sandwiches, they told me that it wasn’t working any longer. I took the bag back, put one of my sandwiches in, and pulled it out. Voila, more sandwiches. It was only working for me, we all agreed, so I would keep the bag.

Though that decision was easily made, we talked about why the bag worked for me, and how it worked. I didn’t want to claim any special talents or anything and held firm that I didn’t know why, and rebuked them for suggesting gods or fates were rewarding me. The suggestion made me cringe. After passing out more sandwiches, I walked away and stood on a dusty hill in sunshine.

While I was there, I was told that I didn’t need to eat. The speaker was unseen but to my left. I laughed and mocked them. They told me that I had two receptacles installed in my body. Under questioning and searching I learned that two black receptacles were installed on the underside of my right upper arm. I didn’t know how they got there, so I was pretty amazed.

One was about four inches in diameter and fully black, with a flap on it. The other was smaller, about an inch wide, with a blue plug sticking up out of it. I knew without being told that the large one was for being fed knowledge and the tiny one was for taking in food.

Two children arrived with hoses to fill me. I warned them, “Don’t put the wrong hoses in,” which made me laugh because of the receptacles’ size difference.

Dream end

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Our Friendsgiving Contribution

Our contribution to the Friendsgiving gathering, as assigned to us by the host, are appetizers. Here’s this year’s offering.

The photo makes it look yellower than it actually is. There are five cheeses on it, deviled eggs, three kinds of crackers, and some puff cheese pastries, along with smoked mesquit almonds, carrots, celery, and cauliflower.

We also provided a vegetable platter with spinach artichoke dip. The food from both trays were delicious.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

I like being proactive and getting ahead of things for the holidays, so I went ahead and gained my holiday weight.

That’s just one less thing for me to worry about.

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Food & Diamonds Dream

Didn’t see much of myself in this dream. I was there doing things under others’ guidance. The first part was about taste, eating, and ingredients.

I was given six ingredients and told to make something to eat out of those. I don’t know any of the ingredients at this point. But as I started working on it, a woman came by and said, “If you have any problems, call this number: 220-4076.” Okay, I said, got it. Will do.

I began working with the ingredients to make things. With quick experimentation, began intuiting that the food would guide me. In fact, if I let them, the foods would choose by themselves which ones should come together and that the best results came from just using three ingredients.

People, including my wife, arrived and tasted my food. Expressing astonishment, they asked, “Did you make this?” As I told them I did, they were in disbelief because it was so good, in their words, making me proud and happy. Same asked me for cooking insights and I happily shared what I’d learned, telling them that the food would come together by itself so just come together and let it. They then watched as I told a group of six foods to make something. The food pieces began moving, shifting into groups of three, and then shuffling their proportions by themselves. Everyone reacted in amazement, exclaiming, “You were serious, it does make itself.” I said, “I just need to cook it in whatever way needed. That’s where this phone number comes in.” As I looked at the phone number, something clicked and I said, “But I only need 220, the first part. The rest doesn’t matter.”

Finishing up there, I caught up with my wife. She was jewelry shopping in some swanky store where the sound was completely muffled by thick-pile blue carpet. When I arrived, she was engaged with a sales clerk but turning to me said, “M, I dropped an earring. Can you see if you can find it?” Questions and answers were exchanged about where she’d lost it etc. Getting on my knees with a flashlight, I searched the carpet and found the earring, a tiny but exquisite little silver piece. She was so pleased I’d found it, telling me that she’d been confident that I would, but then told me she’d lost another, so could I find it, too?

I did so with little trouble. She was still shopping so I walked to another part of the store and then out of it. Beyond the store, it was hot, dry, and brown with dust. The dust was blowing in my face, coating my lips and smarting my eyes. Grimacing against all that, I walked around behind the store. Turning back, I saw that I’d wandered a long way from it, and the store was just a smudge on the horizon, and so started making a direct and determined effort to walk back to the store fast.

As I walked though, I bent my head against the dust and wind, keeping my eyes toward the ground. Slowing and shielding my eyes against a particularly sustained, hard wind, I bent down and saw stones. Picking them up, I discovered that there were cut yellow diamonds. From what I knew, they couldn’t be worth much, because wasn’t yellow diamonds a lesser color? Still, they should have some value, I told myself, and picked the diamonds up. A huge cache covered by dust was found.

Wondering if the diamonds belonged to someone, I called 220. Without even explaining who I was or why I was calling, the person answering said, “The diamonds are yours if you want them. Take what you want. That’s why they’re there,” and then hung up.

Dream end.

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The Custard Tart Dream

To set the dream scene, I was different in some ways to my real life self. Still white, I was tall and skinny with short black hair, and wearing a holey white tee shirt dingy gray with age. About nineteen years old, I was clean-shaven and despite my dirty clothes, I was clean. I knew I was poor but I was a happy and hopeful individual.

Walking among some dark industrial ruins, I came across a table. On it were about a dozen tarts. Six inches in diameter, they were custard, with cinnamon sprinkled across the top, and stacked about ten tall. Beside the tarts were a dozen empty tart pans in a stack.

Finding the tarts pleased me. I’d been walking for days, hadn’t eaten and was hungry, but more importantly to me, I’d been travelling alone and had not seen anybody the entire time. Finding the tarts, if they were fresh, was a sign that others still existed and could be close by.

I didn’t eat them, though, though I grinned widely as I looked at them. I didn’t know who owned them and refused to take them, thinking that would be stealing. Then, walking around, I found a cardboard sign with handwritten letters in red marker, “Free”.

I still didn’t take any. At that point, other people emerged from the shadows. Seeing them, I knew they were as hungry as me, so I called to them and started passing out the tarts. As I did, I found that there were more tarts than I thought. While I was surprised, I was also pleased because that meant that everyone could eat more.

Then, a voice told me that they’d been watching. They were going to provide me tarts, and I could sell them. That confused and surprised me. I queried them about why they’d want to do that. They answered that they thought I’d be good at selling them.

I shrugged. If they wanted to do that, it was okay, I guess, I said, but I’d rather just give them away because so many people didn’t have money or food. The voice replied, you can do what you want, they’re your tarts.

Dream end.

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Overheard

“It was cold in my house last night,” the sixty-ish man said. Dressed in a tweed cap and black fabric car coat, he and his trimmed gray beard cut a dapper image. “I had to turn on the furnace and warm the place to eat my ice cream.”

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