Two Dreams
‘I’ wasn’t in this dream, which was more like the ‘television dreams’ which I sometimes experience.
Three people were renting a place together for vacation. One was a gay male. I don’t remember the other two much, as ‘the camera’ mostly focused on him.
It was the vacation’s final day so they were talking about leaving. The house was cluttered and messy from their time there – pizza boxes and take-out food containers, dishes on counters, etc. They were being vague about what to do but when remembered seeing a move-out checklist. Remembering roughly where it was on the counter, they pulled out a typed-up two-page checklist.
The group began reading from it. One of them took a half-eaten piece of pizza from a box and began eating it, disgusting the others. He mocked them, saying, “It’s only a little old and hard.”
They were then outside, walking back and up toward the vacation place. It had a broad glassed-in overhang above a double garage with a cement drive.
Large, thick tree branches were on the drive on either side. They discussed that the branches probably fell during a storm a few days before. The gay guy wanted to chop up the branches and remove them as a nice gesture. He seemed very excited about doing it while the others hung back. Getting an axe, he lined up a branch to cut it apart and took an ineffectual swing.
Dream end
Second dream…a short time later…
Very messy dream. I was there, and my wife, and others, but many were coming and going. We were preparing to go out, and it seems like we were investigating something but as a social group. I think there was a core of three to give but things were weakly framed.
We were in an apartment. My neighbor, Wade, was in the opposite apartment. We were dressing, and I was dressed first, and was wearing a light gray suit, I think with a light yellow shirt. I remember thinking it odd.
To both kill time and because I had an idea that I thought would help, I went to Wade’s place. I was doing it furtively because I didn’t want the rest to know. I also was ambiguous about being in Wade’s place. He hadn’t given explicit permission, but I felt that he would have if asked. But, that hadn’t been asked, so it felt like a gray area.
But I knew Wade harbored a device to create a sort of document which could help us. I went over to use that. I was trying to be quick but things went wrong and the device wasn’t as easy to use as expected.
While I was in there, another person arrived and ‘caught me’. I explained that it was Wade’s – which they knew – but tried avoiding explaining why I was there, trying to put things back to how they were.
I then went back over to the apartment, where my wife was ready and talking about doing something. Another had some stuff. They said if you shake it over your eyes, it reveals that there are some insects there. My wife was eager to have this done on herself and me, saying that it was something that she wanted to do for a long time and disparaging me because ‘I never wanted to do it’.
The guy came over, told me to close my eyes and kept them closed. He then sprinkled stuff on them and then said, “Oh wow, look how many Michael has.” It was sort of gleeful in a horrified way. I asked, “What do I do about them?”
Then I looked in a mirror. I confirmed some small black insects were crawling around my eyes but I was horrified with how my hair looked. It was wet and sloppy, so I tried fixing it.
I think there was a little more to the dream, but this is what I remember.
Thursday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 5, 2026.
We’re winding through winter’s last days toward spring in Ashland. History provides us reminders that Ashland often experiences late winter to mid-spring snowstorms. I’d like more snow in the area, especially in the Cascades where our snowbank resides.
Today, it’s overcast with uncertain, flexing sunshine. 48 F, it feels neither warm nor cold, and our high is arcing toward just 50.
My phone has developed problems with receiving text messages all of a sudden. I’ve added fixing that to my todo list. I did get some updates from my siblings about Mom before the system went tango unform on me.
Mom is reverting to the behavior displayed in January. I drift toward remembering who she was and the complex relationships my sisters and I have with her. I contrast what’s she’s enduring with who she was, what and who she was trying to be, and where she arrived as a person. Much of it now is beyond her control. Doesn’t stop my sisters from getting angry about it. But we saw this pattern emerging. There was little we could do, which we learned with time, because we tried to do things to change the course.
I smile at some things, like her potato salad. My wife insists nobody makes potato salad like Mom. My wife tried but when she asked for a recipe, Mom was more about the ingredients and less about the measurements. One thing I learned from helping her make it sometimes was that Mom depended on tasting it and how it looked — color, texture. That’s hard to translate through recipes.
I was just settling into checking on prices, the war that Republicans don’t want to call a war, and other matters when breaking news arrived.
Trump replaces Noem at DHS, taps Mullin for job
I think at first, “about time”. Her arrogance and attitude doesn’t fit with what I look for in public servants. I temper that, though, with the understanding that she was carrying out Trump and Miller’s policies, and generally working as a functionary for Project 2025. It’ll be interesting to see how much this change will actually manifest as change.
On the heels of that thinking, I scoff, but of course Trump has replaced Noem. She’s become a lightning rod for negative impressions about Trump. With his popularity falling, he made her his scapegoat.
Today’s music is “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones. When The Neurons first settled it into my morning mental music stream, I sang it as “Wild Kitties” for Papi’s entertainment. He did not seem entertained.
I’m not sure why the song is playing in me. I can see how its themes and melody is about yearning for another time, for a different outcome, even for hope. I suppose that’s where I reside now — wishing for other things than what now exists. It also came out in 1971, when I was fifteen, so I suppose remembering the song stirs some nostalgia for being back there — young, with Mom, facing a bright future.
I’ll close with best wishes for you and us to stay safe, be healthy and find new ways toward a peaceful, prosperous, and inclusive future.
Cheers
A Chaotic Dream
I read an article in a newspaper, something about prizes being given away, and decided that would be a good idea for my group of friends. I don’t recall prize details but I thought they were practical household goods — but expensive — which some of my friends could use. So I pulled my local friends together and pushed the idea on them, persuading them, “Let’s do this.”
We then got on the phone to call two other couples. We used to live close to each other but they’d moved away. I knew the wives better than their husbands, as I’d known the women first, so I kept forgetting the men’s names when I was on the phone with them.
We ended up at one of the couple’s house. It was a small three-bedroom, two baths California townhouse. Not shabby but cluttered. They were home but the husband wasn’t coming out; I sensed our ‘invasion’ irritated him and felt sort of sad that he lived in a small, cluttered place.
There was a device we were supposed to use in conjunction with this scheme, although the scheme was to call people up or knock on their doors and try to sign them up. The little rectangular device had come apart, so I was trying to fix it. Mostly metal, with a wind-up motor and gears, it also had some small red and yellow pieces, and a body that clipped on it. I continued trying to fix that while talking to others and laughing.
After a long period of aimless conversations, everyone agreed with my idea. One of the guys, a younger Mexican-native American who I worked with before, came to me and told me my assignment was to go sign up three new customers. I declined, explaining, “I’m not a salesperson. My role is to organize and oversee.”
He accepted that but seemed glum. I finished fixing the little device and put it together, telling him, “Look, I fixed it.” I felt very proud of that, vindicated because ‘I knew I could do it’.
I then asked him what the matter because his energy seemed low, then guessed that he was facing discrimination from his boss. He confirmed that, adding, “It’s others, too.” We spoke about that a little bit more.
Another friend came in to tell me my wife was missing. She said she’d gone to bed but she wasn’t in her bed. I went and checked on her; she was in bed. I told her that others checked on her, but she wasn’t there and asked where she’d been. Crossly, she replied, “I had to go to the bathroom.”
I went back out and told my friends about the exchange, then I again went looking for my wife. This time, I went outside and up the street. We were in a suburban neighborhood. I found her sitting on a lawn chair on someone’s walk to their front door. Sprinkler systems were on, watering large, lush green front yards.
My wife was younger and laughing, though she was alone. She pointed out this kitten. Tail straight up, it was an odd tarnished gold color and was prancing around. My wife said that it’s a stray but she was very fond of the cat and had been watching it for a while.
Dream end
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Ashland, Oregon — Tuesday, March 3, 2026. Fog is drifting in from the west, slowly painting over the deep blue sky. Sunshine has us at 52 degrees F with a projected high of 61.
Papi has been in and out several times, like he’s expecting it to be warmer outside because it’s sunny but the chilly air keeps pushing him to return to warmth. He’s just executed the classic move of throwing himself down and rolling on his back while he was washing his face.
Relative quiet is drifting from the Mom front. I’ll take it but it’s one of those ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ quiets.
Quiet is not the word I’d use to describe the middle east as the joint US/Israel attack on Iran apparently encourage other regional nations to try to settle old scores. Afghanistan and Pakistan have border battles going on. US embassies have been attacked. Shipping — including a US oil tanker — have been attacked. Dubai’s airport has been hit.
Reverberations are spreading. Shipping has been diverted from the Strait of Hormuz and the average price of gas in the US jumped 11 cents overnight. The Dow, S&P 500, and NASDAQ all dropped.
Trump will dismiss growing worries about affordability as blithely as he dismissed military members’ deaths. I’m sure he’ll shrug and call it a sacrifice that has to be made. He’s not personally affected so he really doesn’t care, and it shows in his speech and behavior.
The war was supposed to be pre-emptive to stop Iran’s attacks on the US. I haven’t been able to find those incidents which Trump and Hegseth. I did find the chants from protestors about “Death to the United States”, but damage and deaths weren’t reported after those chants.
Seeing our rooms brimming with sunshine about half an hour ago, The Neurons fired up Cream and “The Sunshine of Your Love” but in the time I took to type this, fog has blotted out the sun and blue sky. The song is one of the major pieces of frenetic power rock which I grow up with as a teen. I went with a recording of a live rendition from the group’s farewell tour, just to see the young faces.
Hope your day carries you forward on positive energy and delivers good news and optimism. I’m off to the dentist for follow up, next phase of getting an implant.
Cheers
Till When
Just goofing around. “Linger” by the Cranberries floated into the mental music stream. I recalled my youngest sister once saying that she loved that song, and thought about how she had changed and how life had changed. This came come out whole a minute later.
And here’s the sweet song, “Linger”.
Cheers
A Meeting & A Wedding Dream
Dreamed I was at a fancy business dinner. Large, round white tables set across a ballroom, bar in the corner. I’d just arrived and set up was underway. Two of my previous bosses were there. The fete was due to begin in an hour or so.
Participants, including me, had been asked to create some entertainment. I’d created a word jumble. Then my former boss said, “And please provide an answer sheet.”
Uh oh. I hadn’t created that. I went to get the notebook where I’d made it, knowing that I used one of those black and white lab notebooks that I always favored. I’d thrown it away because the notebook was full. I went to a gray, wheeled, large garbage cans sitting there and began going through the trash. People asked me to explain. I reluctantly did, with a grin, and was met with sympathy.
One unfamiliar elderly woman came by and said, “I know what you’re going through. I’ve done that.”
Shrugging, I replied, “If I can’t find it, I’ll just have to solve the jumble.”
Dad was there, putting silverware on tables. He said, “Maybe you used one of these notebooks, Michael.”
I knew I hadn’t because the ones he showed me weren’t the right kind. But I said, “Good idea, I’ll check.” And made a show of checking a few.
That dream segment ended. Another began.
I went to a counter crowded with product and was a little confused. My wife was there, along with several others, including a man behind a counter. I learned they were talking about my hair! Some products had been ordered and had arrived.
I had my own things to do/try for my hair, here and back home, so I was a little puzzled and annoyed. My wife said, “Everyone wants you to look pretty for the wedding.” I think I dimly knew a sister was getting married but didn’t know who.
The man wanted me to try the products. I wanted him to back off but didn’t say anything. I suggested, “Let me brush my hair so we can see what it looks like first.”
I didn’t have a brush, mirror, or comb, so I used my hands, and then asked my wife, “How does this look?”
She hemmed and hawed, not able to decide, which vexed me.
Dream end.
Michael Seidel, writer 