Tuesday, November 4th, 2014 -( +3°C / +37°F With a very blue sky above the slightly messy whited grounds @ 10:30 am here in Atlantic Canada )-
NaBloPoMo: I feared I might have signed up in the wrong place, signed up for last year’s NaBloPoMo instead of this one, and might need to sign up again, before the deadline, tomorrow, the 5th. I got to the page that lists every blog that has been officially signed up this year and read through them, found this one #’d 1066. Hmmm- Sounds like a significant number. I also remember some history teacher wanted to change his name to “Ten Sixty-Six” and the judge hearing that case denied him, saying it was too silly and he wasn’t going to allow it. At the time, I thought that if the guy was squirrelly enough to really want that name – he could probably find another judge somewhere who would go along with his request.
Dreams: Yes, several. Latest, most notable, was one in which I was one of several people working in a factory that made crossbows and crossbow ‘bolts’ -the shortish arrows that are made for crossbows. The boss could only be described as ‘paranoid’ – and believed the people who worked for him were plotting against him. As it turned out, this became a self-fulfilling prophecy as we all came to the conclusion that we needed a union to protect us from his weird actions. He brought in thugs to keep us from talking to each other while we were working – and had us followed home, and to where-ever we went, hoping to stop us from meeting up anywhere to discuss unionizing. Then, before anybody could come to him and tell him we were proposing a vote to unionize, he locked us out, and locked several of us inside, sent his thugs after us with orders to silence us anyway they had to. We were separated, hunted down, beaten close to death, dragged outside and dumped in the parking lot. The boss called the police and told them that three of us inside were trying to kill our fellow employees. Those inside found a couple bolts, a couple finished crossbows and hid out, having no idea why the thugs were obviously trying to kill us, as we were trying to stay alive. I became one of those three, found a bolt on a shelf, climbed up and got it, heard a thug coming, jumped down with a bolt and stabbed the thug in the neck, took his gun, a semi automatic pistol and tried to get to my friends, did find them. We did manage to sneak out a back way, and, on the way, found a room where the boss had made recordings of everything, like Nixon, because he was so sure people were plotting against him, he wanted to know about it. We found the recording of him ordering his thugs to do anything they had to – to get most of his employees out of the building and make sure the three he thought were real troublemakers were isolated where there were weapons because he planned to call the police and catch us armed and dangerous and urge them to shoot us before we had the opportunity to kill anybody else. He actually told the thugs to kill a few of our friends and leave them dead inside the factory, looking like we had killed them. This was in the days before video surveillance, but one of us stayed behind as the police came along, and played the tape through the factory’s public address system. The boss heard himself giving orders to kill and stole a gun, began firing, and the police ended his career in a volley of bullets. I was not happy with this dream when I woke up. I don’t like the idea that I was dreaming anything that justified killing anybody, no matter how crazy or evil the sonofagun was. Other dreams, As I was drifting in and out I found I was starting new dreams, could see them in full colour and stereo sound before I’d actually fallen all the way asleep.
Pets: Again, I took just a little too long to feed Moe (le chat, le grand Orange), -took just an extra couple seconds to throw some dry food in the porch bowl and greedy grey guy flew up onto their carpeted shelf, atop the desk, looked at the dry food, turned around, spilling dry food, and started wolfing down Moe’s wet food. I picked up the grey guy, who had his claws dug into the carpet and didn’t want to leave, and then had to step over the dog who was happily searching the floor for the couple bits of dry cat food that had hit the floor when grey guy spilled the bowl. I closed the door and grey guy, with just about half of the larger portion I had given him in front of him, had to content himself with quickly grabbing and gobbling up every little bit of that before any imaginary rival could get there and gobble it up first.
NaNoWriMo: Yesterday, after I finished my morning blog post and fed the critters, I went into the bedroom and turned on the news and fell asleep, listening to CBC Network News, dreamed I was listening to the French President as he addressed Parliament, thought I pretty much understood him in French, and thought I might walk up to the stage I dreamed he was speaking from and try to impress him by telling him in French that a Yogi had told me I spent a recent life time in Paris, as an artist, supporting myself by selling pencil sketches of people on the streets who would pose for me, long enough for the portraits. Drifting in and out of dreamland, I realized there wasn’t anybody on a stage I could get to, and he probably would not be impressed at all with my conversation about a previous lifetime in Paris, even if I told him about the dreams I’ve had about running down to the paved stretches along the river and spreading my arms and dancing in pure joy in the rain, or any other dreams of Paris I have had in this life. I don’t know- he just might have enjoyed me telling him that I really loved hearing very young children speaking nearly perfect French in Quebec. — but that’s a digression. I woke up looking at the clock we haven’t turned back yet, saw “4:38” and thought, ‘Yikes’ I might not get through the stuff I had to do to get to my NaNoWriMo-ing. But I did slog through it. Mon Amour Fou got home from work, grumbling that she really needed a nap and I ‘let her do that’ uninterrupted by me, & went back to my nonsense and finished up and probably got to NaNo around seven or eight. I wrote another 3,000 something words and came up with a total of 9,088 words at about 5 minutes to midnight, and then couldn’t get the NaNo page to come up in my browser, and when I did and entered the new total – it crashed and told me there was a problem. I tried again, opened a new page, entered the new total again, thinking there might be thousands of us trying to get our totals in at the same last couple of minutes, and bingo- managed to get yesterday’s new total in with a minute and a half to spare.
Now I better go make sure the animals haven’t torn each other apart. I probably would have heard that if it happened, but ya never know.