This was supposed to be done last Friday but my computer ate my bookmarks.
The Little Competition Dream
It seemed as if I was in a quasi-military unit again. A new guy, young, I arrived as a strange ceremony was underway.
I took it in at a glance: large wooden but modern yurt. High wooden ceiling. People in uniforms – could be military, marching bands, firefighters – in groups, waiting.
Two senior people took me aside. The taller one said, “Your timing is perfect. We’re going to have you do the judging.”
I was like, the judging? I said nothing.
They led me to a round wooden table. On it was a brown wooden basket. “Basically,” it was explained, “you find their flare and trinkets and count them up.”
They were doing activity as this was being explained. I watched, following, gleaning the essence. This was a competition. The groups had stuff. I had to find it but judge it not on its merits but on its quantity. This would not be hard.
I counted some stuff. Marked it. Initialed the little slip of white paper it was on.
My instructors laughed. “Don’t bother initialing it. That’ll slow you down.”
I was affronted. I wanted accountability. Precision. But said nothing.
One of the groups’ leaders, tall guy with a rambling reddish-brown beard, was watching and spoke up. “He’s doing the judging? Look how slow he’s going. This is going to take forever.”
The tall leader responded, “He’s just starting. He’ll speed up.”
Indeed, I was speeding up, and learning the challenge’s intricacies. For example, in one green uniform, they had hundreds of small pockets. In each was a little gold trinket. Each had to be found and counted.
That’s how it was with all of these uniforms. The teams found things and hid them. Everything was small, and it was up to me to find and count it. Pretty nuts, I thought.
A woman in uniform, waiting to hand over her garments for my inspection and counting said, “This is pretty important to people.”
I nodded; I could tell.
She continued, “They put a lot of work and thought into it.”
“I can see that,” I replied.
The small things were adding up and time was going faster. I found new places to stack it all, keeping it neat and orderly.
Dream endThe Little Competition Dream
I was in a quasi-military unit again. A new guy, young, I arrived as a strange ceremony was underway.
I took it in at a glance: large wooden but modern yurt. High wooden ceiling. People in uniforms – could be military, marching bands, firefighters – in groups, waiting.
Two senior people took me aside. The taller one said, “Your timing is perfect. We’re going to have you do the judging.”
I was like, the judging? I said nothing.
They led me to a round wooden table. On it was a basket. “Basically,” it was explained, “you find their flare and trinkets and count them up.”
They were doing activity as this was being explained. I watched, following, gleaning the essence. This was a competition. The groups had stuff. I had to find it but judge it not on its merits but on its quantity. This would not be hard.
I counted some stuff. Marked it. Initialed the little slip of white paper it was on.
My instructors laughed. “Don’t bother initialing it. That’ll slow you down.”
I was affronted. I wanted accountability. Precision. But said nothing.
One of the groups’ leaders were watching and spoke up. “He’s doing the judging? Look how slow he’s going. This is going to take forever.”
The tall leader responded, “He’s just starting. He’ll speed up.”
Indeed, I was speeding up, and learning the challenge’s intricacies. For example, in one green uniform, they had hundreds of small pockets. In each was a little gold trinket. Each had to be found and counted.
That’s how it was with all of these uniforms. The teams found things and hid them. Everything was small, and it was up to me to find and count it. Pretty nuts, I thought.
A woman in dark green serge uniform, waiting to hand over her garments for my inspection and counting said, “This is pretty important to people.”
I nodded; I could tell.
She continued, “They put a lot of work and thought into it.”
“I can see that,” I replied.
The small things were adding up and time was going faster. I found new places to stack it all, keeping it neat and orderly.
Dream end
Sometimes, These Things
I was running for exercise. As I did, I became aware of my body’s sounds. A novel concept emerge.
I curtailed the run and went home. Sitting down, I typed up the first twenty pages, about 2500 words, then went for water and to clean up and change clothes. While I was doing those things, I realized a potential ending and saw more scenes.
I added the book to my To Be Written document.
Just the way it goes, sometimes, you know?
Tuesday’s Theme Music — Dirty Deeds
Ashland, Oregon — Tuesday, April 14, 2026.
No rain today! Cloudy, blue sky is visible. 62 F is expected to be our high but it’s 46 F right now. Spring weather but more rain than we typically receive.
Trump’s body count continues to rise. As part of his project, Operation Look — Squirrel!, SOUTHCOM ordered more boaters killed. No court, no evidence, no trial; it’s the Trump Method.
I’m not surprised SOUTHCOM killed five more this week, bringing the total murders to 170. Trump Iran war, now seven weeks old, isn’t going well. Efforts to find peace and withdraw are going worse.
Then, his latest ploy in Operation Look — Squirrel!, to depict himself as Jesus while claiming it wasn’t a depiction and he was a doctor, went sideways fast, with the post quickly deleted.
This all comes on top of Melania Trump’s desperate efforts to project herself completely uninvolved with Ghislane or Epstein. Melania used the classic Trump defense, “Don’t believe the photographs and testimony, believe me, because I tell the truth.” While it works sometimes for Trump because he speaks the hate which MAGA and Evangelicals like, it didn’t work for Melania. She is experiencing historically low poll numbers for a first lady.
Instead of reassuring everyone, Melania also managed to remind everyone about the Epstein file. Dozy Donny has been trying to make it go away. After using it as a campaign tool by promising to release it all on day one, he’s complaining that people won’t forget it. Must have brought him a lot of joy *snark* when Melania held a conference to talk about it.

All that bad news was on top of rising gas prices in the US. High gas prices are not usually good for the economy, and the Trump economy was already not doing well, with the farmers and rural citizens who make up Trump’s base, doing especially poorly.
Well, things are blowing up for Trump, I thought this morning.
Boom *sorry*, The Neurons loaded the morning mental music stream with AC/DC and “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”. The 1976 rocker is all about a man willing to do dirty deeds for a price. That pretty well summarizes Trump’s minions and suck ups for me.
Hope your day is free of murders and travesties against humanity, sickness or illness. In other ways, hope it’s a good day for you and yours.
Cheers
The Long Dream
My wife and I were staying in a white apartment building, in a spacious ground-floor unit.
Located on flat land, seven stories tall, the building was part of a busy area, full of energetic people and planning. Part of this was about the traffic going on with the broad street in front of the house. Other changes involved landscaping.
I had a sort of control where I could receive and send information. As I passed information on, someone in charge approached and asked how I was doing that. I showed them my control, a black rectangle similar to a television remote control. I demonstrated how I pointed it at things, pressed a button, and learned from doing that. I could then point it to someone, press a button, and share that information with that person.
In response to questions, I clarified that, yes, I could do simultaneous information collection and broadcast it to multiple people at the same time. But I also showed him that the remote was old and damaged; several buttons were weak or loose. I sometimes had to hold them in longer before the desired effects took place.
I hinted that I would really appreciate a new one, and they implied they might be able to help.
In another part of my dream, I had five cats. All were cats who previously lived with me and passed away. They were just hanging around the apartment, being cats.
Then a strange cat entered the front door. Resembling a small gray lion, it came in and then paused when it saw our cats.
One of our cats ran right up and attacked it. Our cat and the lion cat wrestled for a few seconds and then our cat pulled away and stretched. “Oh, he’s only playing,” we realized.
We then watched as the other cats interacted. One of our cats attacked one of the others, throwing them down. But then all the fighting stopped and the cats just settled down and washed.
It was then time for my wife and I to leave to go somewhere. As we left our apartment, I saw that the building’s rear landscaping was torn up. All the grass and plants had been removed.
That surprised me and my wife. We talked about it and then another approached and assured us that these plans had been in place for a long time. My wife and I chatted further, admitting, we must have missed the notice.
Dream end
Saturday’s Theme Music –
Ashland, Oregon – Saturday, April 11, 2026.
Another rainy day for the valley. Thunderstorms struck again yesterday but it was just a fifteen-minute visit. We’re seeing 54 F now and anticipate 58 as the high…
Nothing from Mom…more of the usual about Trump. Many headlines about the historic spaceflight. So many seem so hungry for it, like they needed some good news.
I read Paul Krugman’s post about the labor news. He speculates that we may have achieved a zero growth state. Since people aren’t immigrating into the country, there’s not more demand for jobs.
Makes you wonder. If population is flat and either sated with their purchases or too poor and working too hard to buy them because high gas, food, and healthcare prices are taxing their finances, who will buy new goods and services?
I was proud and pleased by how Boise, Idaho, responded to a ban on pride flags. Narrow-minded Idaho legislators specified what flags are allowed in their quest to limit freedom of speech and expression. They were particularly incensed that Boise had flown a gay pride flag for over ten years. Oh, the horror.
That couldn’t stand, so they passed a law against it, enforced with hefty fines.
Boise responded beautifully, by wrapping poles with gay pride flags.
On to a quiet day for me. Today’s music came from Papi walking around the room this morning. All of a sudden, he whirled and looked back.
I turned and looked as he stared, alert. The two of us went down the hall together. I don’t know what he saw or heard. After a moment of standing in the bedroom, Papi gave his face a little wash, turned and left, resuming his previous activity.
That was all enough for The Neurons to pull up some lyrics from the Oasis song, “D’you Know What I Mean?” and slot the song into the morning mental music stream.
Lyrics:
Step off the train all alone at dawn
Back into the hole where I was born
The sun in the sky never raised an eye to me
The blood on the trax and must be mine
The fool on the hill and I feel fine
Don’t look back cos you know what you might see
Look into the wall of my mind’s eye
I think I know, but I don’t know why
The questions are the answers you might need
Coming in a mess going out in style
I ain’t good-looking but I’m someone’s child
No-one can give me the air that’s mine to breathe
Yeah, don’t look back because you know what you might see…
Hope your day is filled with powerful energy that takes you in the right direction.
Cheers



