Contact with relatives – living and dead.

Thursday, July 28th, More Serial Dreams —

Thursday, July 28th, 2016 — 23°C / 74°F & Slightly Overcast @ 10:32 am in Atlantic Canada —

More Serial Dreams — Not in Order — Most of these flow into each other in a large building that may be a workplace or learning institution:

I was working with some kind of computer graphics that I probably downloaded, and they came through with weird names and did not function as graphics until I renamed them and added suffixes like “.jpg” or “.png” etc. — I had so many of these to fix that I treated each one by adding an “i” or a “c” before their weird alphanumeric names and giving them their suffixes. I was not happy with being rushed through this and told myself I would have to come back and rename them again – give them names that would be more universally easy to understand so my colleagues who had to work with them when I was finished would have an easy time identifying them and wouldn’t have to walk through viewing each and every one of them each time they needed one of these images for whatever projects they were working on. — Now that I’m awake, I can’t recall what the ‘i’ or ‘c’ designations meant.
Some kind of a guy I thought was a wannabe life coach came to me and told me he ‘needed to talk to me’ about something to do with personality test results. I grinned at him and said, “Let me guess – I need to work on my people skills.”
I’m not sure whether the workday or class was over, but I had to walk around people I knew and recognized (from my ‘real life’) – and got into a large, many stalled washroom. The stalls had no doors. I was slightly worried that my English/Creative Writing teacher ( a woman ) would come in and see me sitting on a toilet. I kind of shrugged and sighed and knew I had no choice.
I think I went home – either to another building or another part of the larger building. I think I walked outside and crossed a small dead end street to get to my home, where either family or half a dozen roommates, or a mixture of both, also lived. Like I tried to hint above, I’m not sure the living quarters weren’t a ‘wing’ of the large masonry, or brick, building. I just took a shortcut in pleasant evening weather to get ‘home’. I think we were all ‘young twenty something’ adults. — My friend Larry [ who died unexpectedly a couple years ago – maybe 2012 – ] came to visit and while I was in another room doing something, told my friends and at least one sister [ Sharon ] that he’d been having minor annoying problems with something. He was joking about it, as if he was saying that his life was annoyingly complicated like everyone else’s. — I looked outside and saw what had to be Larry’s very white ‘Smart Car’ parked out front – with a nasty gash in the left rear panel and bits of twisted metal forming a weird, almost flower petal look. But there were flames coming out the back of his vehicle. I hurriedly told him his car was on fire. He groaned and went outside and looked at the flames for a moment or two before he grabbed a lever and moved it- and the fire went out.

— Um, there was more, but this is all I can remember, now that it’s like two hours since I got up to feed the pets.

— I’m also not sure whether somebody in the dream told me it was time for me to ‘go home’ or whether that was another recent dream. –,

~~~~~ Jim

Welcome To July, 2016 ?

Sunday, July 3rd, 2016 — 16°C / 61°F @ 9:39 am with brilliant sunlight, deep blue skies and very nicely lit up clouds leisurely moving above the houses and hills here in Atlantic Canada — It’s Kyla’s Birthday Today 🙂 —

Venice? Near sunrise or sunset? — Beautiful photo, beautiful sentiment —

— I started out this morning to write about a weird dream I had – & discovered the computer I fixed yesterday had gone into blue screen mode. I was able to convince it to shut down and then, remarkably, I was able to restart it – the problem seems to be that while it is protected by Avast and Malwarebytes it thinks it is totally unprotected. and wants to scream that at me every couple minutes.

— Then I discovered that my dream journal blog has developed a fatal problem that won’t let it load, and I can’t sign into it. And several blogs are complaining that they need to be updated. Including this one. & “Blogzilla 2.0” is full of nonsense from fatcow dot com which may be in collusion with one nasty, fraudulent extortionist or another and has shut down access to blogs mirrored on their servers because I refused to pay their ever increasing nonsensical ‘protection racket’ prices. — groan —

— sigh, & now the cat is complaining that I’m late with his breakfast.

= = = = =

— It is now 10:51 am. {{{ & 19°C / 66°F — Sunny and breezy with lots of brightly lit up clouds floating happily against a deep blue sky here in Atlantic Canada. }}}

& now, the dream.

— I’m pretty sure I was walking around the Milford, Connecticut, of my youth with my cousin, Glenn. He had grown taller than me. I was six feet three and he was probably six feet four and a half. It felt like we were back in our late teens. Too young to drive – too young for our parents to start nagging us to go out and get a job — old enough to feel the sting of knowing our parents were wrong – they’d been lied to and they’d believed the lies — but we weren’t old enough yet to understand that we knew that we were a little more right than they were – that we were ‘plugged in’ to a Truth that they couldn’t see or understand. The Beatles and the Stones had landed and taken their place in the collective consciousness (and unconsciousness – where applicable) so the social revolution was beginning and we were feeling something like empowerment – like something new and exciting and spiritually truthful was trying to transform the world into something we could believe in, not some nightmare manipulated by greedy older men with evil dark agendae – who believed in killing off the best and brightest of every generation so they and theirs could maintain power.

— We walked around, connected with friends and went to some kind of party reminiscent of the first time we played together in a band, we knew three songs and everybody thought we were fantastic, wanted to hear those three songs over and over again. I had a slightly warped and hard to play electric bass guitar and guys and girls caught up in the rock and roll revolution were shocked and impressed by the way I could play in time and with feeling they’d never felt from the lousy AM radios we all had in those days.

— Then we ended up ‘crashing’ sleeping in a room full of couch cushions arranged on a floor. In the dream I woke up worrying that somebody would look at me and know that, dressed or not, with the blanket not quite covering me, I was obviously sexually aroused – I’d been dreaming of the young women who’d been gasping and looking at us like we were potential rock and roll gods while we’d been playing and one of them wanted to sleep with me, but I woke up in a room littered with sleeping guys —

— I guess I lived through that without being discovered or having to explain that I’d been dreaming of starry eyed young women letting me know they’d let me kiss them.

— And as we walked outside somebody pointed across the river and said “That’s not right! There’s only supposed to be three peaks in those mountains. Look, there’s five!”

— In the reality I grew up in, there were no mountain peaks across the river from Milford, in what would have been Stratford. But, Yeah, there they were. I wanted to reach for my cell phone and take a photo of those five mountain peaks. But I quickly forgot that, the mountains began moving- sliding out of sight to the right- (heading north?) and being replaced by more and more mountains on the other side of the river. I gasped and said, “We’re going to have an earthquake-” and heard a commotion and people were running all around us. And I heard somebody else – who had probably come this conclusion independently – shout, “We’re gonna have an earthquake!”

— There was a rumble, not a really big one but a line of mountain cliffs came rolling in like they were on a railroad train and took up residence next door. I was trying to remember the name of those neighbours, realized I was in somebody’s house, and wondered how I would get back across the river to where my baby sister, Nancy, probably needed emotional support and most likely needed to know that I was okay and I wanted to know that she was okay-

— That’s where I woke up.

= = = = =

— It is now 11:27 am and it’s only taken me four and a half hours to write down the details of a dream that should only have taken me fifteen minutes to describe.

~~~~~ Jim

= = = = =

P.S. — 13°C / 55°F @ 12:05 am July 4th, 2016 — I uploaded a backup version of this blog. And that worked. I went through several updates and they worked. I thought I might like a different theme and I believe I found one that fits my ‘sensibilities’. And here we are. Happy 4th of July to all my friends and relatives, even those who actually believe that Canada is a Communist country.

Several Wild and Crazy Dreams

Wednesday, August 19th, 2015 -(30˚C / 86˚F — Clear and very Sauna-Like out there @ 3:20 pm on my old ex-neighbor, Bill Clinton’s Birthday, here in Atlantic Canada )-

Game Development Screen Shots — “You Have Been Disconnected” Collage from Game Screen Shots.

— I fell asleep with the CBC News Network’s 24 hour news channel on the television, pets jumping up onto me and being their ‘usual’ strange selves, digging their claws into my chest and rubbing their heads against me, like they were very anxious about something – And I dreamed some fanatical ethnic cleansing group was targeting anybody they suspected of being, to quote Peter Gabriel, “Not One Of Us” and I was trying to get possible victims, including my own family members, out of town before the fanatics came along and butchered everybody.

— Then I woke up and turned the television off, shuddered and went back to sleep, slept ‘fitfully’ with a worried dog whining in my ear to wake me up a couple time, like he knew I was being attacked by weird dreams. They weren’t quite nightmares, I didn’t think I needed my heavy duty spiritual help to clear them away, I never quite woke up enough to realize I probably should have contacted my ‘Major Guardian Angels’.

— Yup, I had several weird dreams, did not feel like anything malevolent was attacking me with violent images or feelings of vulnerability or anything –

— And one dream that sticks out. My wild and crazy ‘Amor Fou’ has a sister whose got a ‘cement consciousness’ — “All mixed up and permanently set” <— Credit that quote to my favorite silly tea bag lines from the seventies. Anyway – the love of my life’s sister popped into a dream. We were in a car or more like a multi passenger van in the Connecticut town I grew up in, across the street from the house I lived in for most of that life. I was probably in the back-most seat, Cathi was beside me, Jassper was whining in my ear, sitting on the seat next to me, me in the middle. Cathi’s sister turned around from the driver’s side, in the middle seat. I couldn’t see who was driving. Cathi’s sister has been anything but reasonable to me and Cathi has apologized for subjecting me to her sister’s nasty jibes and nastier looks since I got here. But in this dream her sister was reasonable, apologetic, even acted like she admired my ‘talent’ as a writer as she turned around, and handed me a journal I had written, which I immediately thought the woman had stolen to read through to try to find fuel for her attacks, -to find anything she could use against me in her crazy attempts to convince the world that she’s been right all along and I am the right hand of the devil, here to steal Cathi away, murder her off in the wilds and hand her soul to the devil for eternal torment in the worst sections of hell below us. But no, Cathi’s sister smiled at me and said, “I read this, it’s really good-” and continued smiling like she meant it. Even in the dream I was shocked.

— When I woke up I had whining cats and dogs to deal with and then had to run to the washroom myself, and I almost forgot that dream. Then I wondered if something majorly traumatic happened to Cathi’s sister and she was trying to undo a number of bad karmic choices she’d made and actions she’d incurred so she could enter heaven with a clear conscience.

— I don’t know. Should I worry?

~~~~~ Jim, [ who discovered that – yes – Jassper did connect this blog to his facebook and twitter accounts, hmmmm- ]

-Had a conversation with my sister-

Tuesday, August 18th, 2015 -( 25˚C / 77˚F — Dark & still too hot @ 9:22 pm in Atlantic Canada )-

— Yeah, the only thing I can remember right now is that I was sitting at a table, talking to my sister, Diane, [ she died in March of 2007 ] – We were having a rather normal conversation. And then I remembered that she’d died.

— I woke up with a hundred and twenty five pound dog prodding me, trying to tell me that if I didn’t stop neglecting the dog and feed him more that any human should reasonably feed a dog, bad things might happen to me. I could be squashed, bones could be broken, sharp claws might slash and rip my flesh. He might yelp and hurt my ears-

— So I got up and fed the dog, and fed the cat, and tried to get back to sleep – And only remembered the dream when ‘effbook’ was hogging memory on my laptop and as I was trying to shut pages down, effbook was trying to convince me to click on profiles of my sister’s daughter’s effbook friends.

— I wish I could remember what we were talking about —

— ehhhh –

~~~~~ Jim ( I think Jassper has this linking to his effbook page and twitter account – Clever…. )

Family Reunion Dream

Monday, October 13, 2014 — Thanksgiving Day in Canada, Scarf’s Birthday in Ithaca —

I dreamed a lot of family members were at a family reunion that lasted several days at a house I didn’t recognize. I dreamed I slept in a couple different beds while I was there. One time I woke up our current orange cat, Moe, had gotten into some oil, had very black messy oil all over his head and back, and he wasn’t saying anything, Wasn’t meowing or complaining about anything, and when he opened his mouth he was all black inside his mouth, his jaws, his gums, roof of his mouth, tongue and his teeth. I was hoping he’d let me clean him up before something really bad happened.

Then we were listening to my father talking on and on about what he’d been up to, and I realized I had slept at least one night in his bed and that felt creepy. And then I was out in the woods somewhere, following tracks and roads that were mostly very rudimentary, two parallel tire tracks through fields and stuff. I found my father’s house, it looked like a modular unit, kind of like a glorified mobile home with a garage attached. I think the house was brown. Somebody told me that it sounded like my father was making progress in taking control of his life, avoiding some people who weren’t exactly good for him and deciding for himself who he would see and who he would hang out with. I started to follow this person back to the reunion, but it felt to me like he was following another path off away from the reunion.

Then I was back at the reunion between my cousin Glenn and his mother, Aunt Phyllis, catching up with them – they both ‘passed over’ Phyllis before 1990, I think, Glenn in 2001? soon after his 50th birthday. And my cousin, Sue, who moved to Arizona several years ago and dropped out of touch with just about everybody, who had a special closeness with Glenn, said, “Sometimes I can smell him, like I know he’s in the room with me.” And I told her that any time she thinks of him he can tell and be right there with her. She wasn’t very comfortable with that.

Then we were making plans to leave the reunion and I checked with my mother to see if I was getting a ride home with her -she doesn’t drive- she said no, the woman who was giving her a ride had plans to stop off and see how her children were doing and there wasn’t room in her car for me. I asked how I was supposed to get home, mom said, ‘Safely’.

Then I was walking through a city apartment house and heard a chain saw or something, saw kids around the age of 6 to 8 getting out of the way as somebody on a dirt bike came charging down a flight of stairs and headed for the door, revving his engine. But then the dirt bike rider stopped and parked the bike, inside the door, off to the left. He was probably between 12 and 15 years old.

Then I woke up. I got the feeling that the person who explained that my father was making progress had been an angel.

~~~~~Jim