From Day Dreams of a Spaced Out old Man comes

[Striker879]

Routines ...

 

At times a familiar friend, easing the way through yet another day's worth of twists and turns.

 

But not always.

 

 

A familiar routine is to take a stroll through the Nexus Forest as a day nears it's end. Wending one's way through the always present echoing of the "No I'm right" and "No you're wrong", the notices of "Now you're screwed, see ya' ", peeking into the corners that sometimes hold the raised hands of "Help" wouldn't be complete without a glance into "that" spot.

 

You never know just what may be found in "that" spot.

 

 

It was a rather perplexing moment, that moment. The Sandman had already whispered his admonition ... "Early to bed, early to rise", and as is usually the case, he knows best.

 

I knew one thing for certain ... it wasn't early.

 

I fully expected a restless night, filled with permutations of Mr Carroll's creations, but instead was blessed and rose refreshed and invigorated, and ready to face the reason for early to rise. Now that the weekly foray into the COVID minefield is completed, it is time.

 

But time has slipped, and what seemed in the dim shadows preceeding slumber as a challenge merely echoing undirected past my ear has turned, and has the thundering of the challenge that must be met!

 

And so that blank page beckons, and holds it own challenge.

 

 

There was a time, a moment that leads to an event, where a detail winked. It wasn't a Detail, and could easily pass as a simple item, but time can be an ally and give the chance to glimpse what could be innoucuous under different light. It wasn't an item ... in fact it has the earmarks of being The Detail.

 

A simple vision of an object found, and then hidden away before prying eyes could pry. In the winking mirror that afforded my glimpse of the event it had the look of smokey quartz, forged in the belly of a younger Earth and then thrust into the daylight in way that only the appreciative could appreciate. To be appreciative took the right eyes ... the eyes of a youngster still able to see.

 

Sometimes those eyes see too much.

 

To be a link in a chain is not a bad thing. Each is a part of a whole that is greater than any one link. Great works are the work of chains, and chains can do those great things ... until the weak one is found. Sometimes the too much that is seen is still something that must be seen, for if it remains unseen the chain is parted, and the great works go asunder.

 

Doesn't make the seeing any easier ... but then again when was easier any better?

Edited August 13, 2020 by Striker879

[Deleted54170User]

Again the one who rambles posts. The poster Pagafyr, before suggests that, that one who goes by the name of Striker879 dares not think that the oceans depth is not too much to conceive all.

The teacher does and sees another task, for all who do not understand, to do; while the actors act and the players play.

The new job assigned to Striker879 and all the others too, seem like child's play. Oh, the one who hates what she sees growing wild next to her burial site, she dreams not as her chore will no longer let her, because she no longer has a chore that takes so long.

She wishes so much, while doing less work, not like her task used to be in her old life. She wishes she could be like to be one of the actors whose life is all play and pretend.

NO DREAM leaves her suspended in limbo and I sit and mind the store where her memories might have made purchase if she had worked long as before so she dreamed a little more.

[Striker879]

But ... but ...

 

[Deleted54170User]

It seems always a Mothers prerogative to make a child turn around and see what a mess they made and left behind that she was going to have to clean up. So we stare and amazed by the thought that, that which she saw was anything more than our first creative imagination from an undirected play which no one gave us a script to follow, a set prop plot to set up. We had been able to see what older siblings left behind. Until they returned to play inside the toys they left did nothing more that sit. No attention did they get from Mother then while I sat in a diaper on the solid wood floor. When I moved a car. Sent it sailing through the toys laid out like trash it crashed through and sent other toys and building blocks a few inches in all directions. No one appeared at the time. I sat there for another minute or so. All the elder siblings entered through the front door. The oldest brother saw his little metal toy car. First his temper flared, followed by the eldest the big sisters, and the other brother.

 

Had I only known I would be put in the Play Pen for ever after; without being given a trial or educated on the spot in a language so I understood things might be different now. Instead from that day forth I spent all my time in the Play Penitentiary, Had I known that their toys were laid out in a map of their own minds and designs I might have been reserved and studied the layout to see if reason gave me insight to their little city on the living room floor.

 

Time passed and no one was aghast again at what might of been another reason to educate me. After spending most of the Summer in the Play Penitentiary. Instead, by two I was given a sand box to play in, all by myself.

 

The shovel and bucket were fun, but I wanted adventure. So... I climbed the 12 inch wall and crawled and walked as strength allowed. Until I reached a few items someone, again, left laying around. So it was, that, that day did arrive where Mother saw, from her post at the window by the kitchen sink, what became of all the items in the back yard.

 

With no more then surprise on my face I was shown the scene behind me. The noise from the mouth of the woman who came to me rushing out of the house and grabbed me as I strode back, I walked and stumbled, back toward the sandbox, quite a ways. I had nothing more to do but make a mound in the sandbox with the bucket and shovel to take back to my new world. Where for the second time when left in the yard, alone, I began to build a plateau for my new private world outside.

 

Back to the Play Penitentiary I was dragged and carried. The rest of the Summer and Autumn were filled with watching through bars as the other three children came and went leaving their mapped out plans for when they returned from a day spent finding where they would live in the event they returned and the house had been turned into a Prison. With Warden Mother there keeping them out for not once sharing any of their educated wisdom with her one baby in solitary confinement. In the Play Penitentiary, I still live there in my mind, I still am mindful of it as a warning so I ddo no incorrect things today and do not leave my Play Penitentiary Room, unless I need the things to eat and drink that Mother used to bring me.

 

What all I have learned since? Why? I cannot really write about, because it was a phantom here and a ghost there, that visited me and still do, and I am not sure, other then my Play Penitentiary role, what all of those phantoms and ghosts wanted with me. They took me out, but always left my baby full grown body in the Play Penitentiary.

 

I was always returned and eventually learned that I could walk about in that realm they took me and no troubles were found, no toys I could move or sets I could prop things up in were available. I was educated. Now I know why I was always put in the Play Penitentiary. It was to protect me from the crazy ways that all the children behaved. Now I am sitting in my Play Penitentiary writing to the one of all that now seems able to pass through solid walls and like his predecessors keeps me company so I don't spend anymore time crying for someone to let me out.

 

Dalai Lama: Ocean Teacher.

 

Paul Lutus : https://arachnoid.com/administration/index.htmlIf you need to know more about NASA and the realm known as planet Earth.

 

Back to the Sea, the Beautiful Pacific Ocean. More lovely then ever now that the ocean has had a Japanese nuclear power plant soak into it all the radiation and spread it all the way to the coast of the USA and South America too.

 

Had any Pacific Ocean lobster, King crab, Halibut, or Tuna fish today?

 

Or the last book that made me take a serious look into the sciences that showed me that the limits of modern day science is barely more than a circus act compared to a few thousand years of study before China and Tibet became two opposing countries.

 

Tibetan Book of the Dead.

 

No buts!

[Deleted54170User]

I can't think of a darn thing. I think I am done here.

 

 

NO SALE!

[Deleted54170User]

I learned a trick for cleaning air without paper filters and sponge type filters too. It's a trick I learned from the Civil Defense broadcasts back when we were still being advised to follow rules for living healthier lives after WWII.

 

The air is too thick with smoke today from the fires off in the distance. I had to shut all the windows, turn on a humidifier until I could let the air out of the tent. The humidifier fills the room with moist air. Air that can capture and stop small particles like smoke makes and filter it out. All I did was wait until the barometer showed me the room had reached the 40% level of humidity.

 

As soon as it was I opened a window. The smoke particles were caught and kept out while the moisture pushed it back too, and filtered the air that came in. The humid air lets in freshened air while it keeps all forms of small dust made from stuff including smoke particles out.

 

I closed the windows after a couple of minutes because the humid air flows out the window through the screen window. I only let the air in for a minute or two until the room was filled with fresh clean air; and I could breathe deeply. I have about 8 hours in the space for one person, two would drop it to 4 hours before we needed to do the trick with the humidifier again. Turning it On once every two to four hours will keep any air pollution from leaking in from outside, because the moisture makes the wood swell up and seals those thin small cracks tight.

 

Ever seen nails that seemed to have popped out of a house's siding. It's because the siding board shrank just a little and then swelled up and the nails are steel so they actually were drawn out when the wood got moist again and pulled at the side of the nail so it was clamped and when the wood swelled up it actually pulled those nails out a fraction of an inch every time.

 

In the 80 to 100 degree Fahrenheit weather a wooden houses wood around window frames and door frames will shrink letting more air in around them. Keeping a indoor humidifier handy keeps the rooms cool and the wood so it will keep it's fitting tight.

[Deleted54170User]

The air was almost 20 degrees cooler at 10:00 PM MST last night. The forest fire was put out yesterday and so at 10:00 PM MST I was able to use the humidifier one last time and leave the window open so the inside cooled the whole space. Clouds rolled in after midnight and dropped the evening temperature to 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

 

Hurricane Laura really whipped up the weather across the nation. Changes for Autumn (Fall) seemed to drop rather drastically. It's already down to 59 degrees outside three hours earlier than last night. Time to get the heating systems ready for colder weather.

It's only been three days since we were at 79 degrees at 12:00 AM MST.

 

I know we're supposed to stay on Daylight Savings Time until November, but really, why? The DST system we've become comfortable with has gotten thrown completely out of whack because of the corona - virus.

 

Store hours are all a kilter with every business so no shopping in most places is until 10:00 AM because of the limited staff. Time to start sticking to Standard time, because when the Sun comes up the people who farm and ranch don't even look at the clocks. They just go to it like Daylight Savings Time doesn't exist now.

[Deleted54170User]

First signs of an Earthquake woke the cowboy. He camped in a clearing off to the side of the range. Tall trees gave the three of them good cover so they could rest without becoming tender vitals for wild animals. He looked around to check if maybe they laid down near railroad tracks. He looked around.

 

He saw the horse was uncomfortable and the dog was busy sniffing the air. First no sightings, next he listened. The dog started to make a high pitched whistling noise. He listened. The dog nose noise was all he heard.

 

He tossed the coffee pot into the satchel with the dirty dishes. Gathered up the bedroll, pulled his boots on, and grabbed his saddle. He walked slowly toward the horse. He could see the painted horse was switching his ears down. Not searching around. No sightings, no sounds, then a flock of birds flew by. He showed the horse he hand and patted him on it muzzle. Slipped the blanket over it's back, eased the saddle on top, and quick as he could without breaking a rhythm he slipped the pack and bedroll in place.

 

Taking the reigns in his hand, he reached to to the lasso knot on the tree branch, untied the rope, and when he was in the saddle he whistled. The dog turned to him, he turned the horse in the directions the birds flew. As soon as he was pointed the horse didn't wait for the word or the tap to his ribs. He started running. The dog was in pursuit and ran past them. Maybe twenty or thirty yards passed under the horses hooves when dust was seen ahead. The horse steered himself away as the ground sank out of sight. The horse kept turning to solid ground and ran zigzagging so the cowboy had to hold on to the horses neck for his own dear life.

 

The second wave of shaking didn't cause any sight, so the three of them just kept going. No time to wonder if the ground behind them was rising or falling. There wasn't rock or a tree standing that wasn't shaking or bouncing. The horse kept calling the turns and ran faster than stories told a horse could run. All the cowboy could do was bow to keep the wind from knocking him off and hang on to the horses neck. Hoping the saddle he had cinched it on was tight enough so it wouldn't come loose.

[Deleted54170User]

The cowboy's horse and dog ran for their dear lives. The two were on the run so long they might have lost their sense of time. The sounds the Earth makes when it's in an uproar filled their ears. The light and flashes of darkness when clouds of dirt rose in their path kept them moving along. So frightened they didn't have time to measure their exhaustion.

A mountain rose, a valley formed, no road ahead, or anywhere they could see out of the eyes of the wild eyed three. The horses sense and the dogs too seemed all the cowboy had, because if it had been up to him he probably would not have lasted this long. Thinking was something far from his mind.

Somehow my thought is all that keeps the three going. At the moment I know the winds outside are blowing. Whipping trees branches around like a scene in a camp where young men are learning how to use a whip to keep cattle going in the direction they cowboys want.

The wind isn't mine to mind though. The cowboy on his horse, the horse, and the dog are not stopping to ponder what may lay up yonder. Until the earth under them stops moving and gives them some rest.

I have watched from afar as people in cars zoomed around on the asphalt roads. I can see nothing like what is happening with the trio there. I know at this moment something has to give. Something has to stop so the three can recover from their exhaustion before it takes all their strength and stamina to the brink of the porch at Death's door.

The cowboy's arms seem riveted to the horse's neck. It has been so long the bones in his arms seem to have taken on the shape so he's part of the nape. All three of their noses are blowing out heat that is streaming with their life's water and wasting their hope. They must find time to get water before it's too late.

Just as I was thinking what will become of them now the wind outside slowed and nearly died. I listened for sounds. Grumbles of bending and bowing tree branches bowed trunks and grinding noises as rocks rolled across the dirt and moved along bouncing and rolling along the concrete paths. Not one!

I listened for animals, birds, and ponds full of frogs. As I listened all was silent. Even my own heart beat has settled down. The dog was furthest ahead when it all seemed to settle. The dogs wind wheezed from his heated lungs and that's all that was heard, until the horse began to slow. Just before he caught up with the dog, and the cowboy, though rung out of his stamina his limp arms still resisted letting loose as the horse slowed and slowed to a stop.

The green grass at the dog's paws, at the horse's hooves rose up as their legs buckled under them.

It was good to feel the cool green blades as they touched their bellies.

The dog rolled onto his side began to nibble the tiny blades green moist grass. The horse struggled as did the dog with the little bit of strength he had left. The cowboy's limbs were as limp as a rag doll, he fell off and his body rolled to the side off the saddle that the horse laid on.

His sore arms aching so that he could barely lift a finger. He slowly reached and pain shot through his fingers and arms all the way up to his shoulders. The pain was too great. He tried to get the canteen on the side of the saddle but he felt if he continued he would surely die.

After a few minutes of struggle he gave up his quest. After a moment; tired as he was he was about to give up the test and let himself lay his life down.

He felt his dirty burning skin on his face touching the cool green grass on the ground. He looked out of his two tired eyes at the dog laying on one side and chewing the tall green blades standing higher then his muzzle. The horse too was just barely able to nibble, he was so tired.

The cowboy did what he had to do. He laid there with his face turned to one side grabbing with his teeth he nibbled on the grass too.

[Deleted54170User]

Oh!

 

And there is nothing better than a cold shower before going out to do some last minute hunting. I was hunting for a complete TV series. I had seen the box on a shelf in the big store and thought maybe there would be one on the shelf.

 

I decided I wanted to be completely free of any left over sweaty stinky armpits. I finished up and dressed to go out. The Sun was a bright red round ball hanging over the edge of the Western horizon. A forest fire sign!

 

I grabbed my camera and tried to capture a picture of it, because it was RED. I even held up traffic so I could get that picture. I turned off the camera.

 

I forgot all about anything but getting the boxed set of the television show that aired in 1964.

I had a strange experience when I was waiting for a parking space at the store.

 

I think it's so engraved in my mind because of years I spent getting clean, shaving, and dressing to go out and party on Saturday evening. Two gorgeous blond women walked in front of my car. One slender and the other a heavier bone gal. I sensed a connection. I heard the sounds they did too. Then the strangest thing happened. I started beating myself up mentally for being old.

 

The television show from those days back in 1964 wasn't on the shelf. I took to hunting for foot powder. Found some!

 

It was dark by the time I got out of that huge store. I decided I was going to get some ice cream. An ice cream shop 31 flavors was next.

 

I got to that place and again there were lovely gals standing inside when I entered. I tried, but I could not fight the urge to look and see if one of them was looking at me too. I wondered why? Why, after all these 70 years, I am still single? If I had not got cleaned up, I would have felt I was too dirty, felt like racing back to the camp to bath, and would have just got my sense's tuned enough to getting that boxed set from the 1964 TV series. I know it!

 

I cleaned up first though.

 

I am I sorry old man! I never made a connection with one woman that lasted long enough so I could be a married old man. Sorry divorce or anything. I wanted a respectable life with a marriage. I would feel better if one of the many women and I knew and I had a longer relationship. I think I might even feel a bit less strange if I had been one who had been married. Sorry feelings; and prone to want to cry because the relationship of marriage didn't work out as was expected.

 

Instead. I cleaned up completely before I went to find the television series I wanted to get. I fell the connections with lovely women I always got, especially during my College years. I felt like I had become shy. I would not have stopped and wondered if they were available I would have checked for men already in my way, and moved right in. Forget that old TV series! Forget it! I would have forgot it all together just for that experience again. To walk up to that beautiful woman and ask for another chance. Even though the one's I saw were virgin territory to me.

 

I felt almost ready. Just let me park the car. I did. I scanned and saw the two blonds get into different vehicles. I felt defeated. I felt no hope for romance. I felt like life cheated me when it filled my life with hope. Ending in no more than a bunch of lingering memories of one relationship after another all ending before I could get up off the floor. I never even made a lasting friend of any female I knew. There were some I thought would be the one I loved for good and in health and sickness.

 

My mind is braking. Yes! B R A K I N G. None of the gals I found a feeling like I do was free of other responsibilities. I always found out when I started fee;omg a strong sense of loss. A feeling that was near to feeling like someone I loved was going to die. Instead I found out I was just a toy! They were already spoken for, hiding their children, or waiting for the one man they already loved to come home from the War.

 

I felt my chest ache bad. I knew my heart stopped being childlike and became sad. There was no reason to clean up, no one was going to appear out of nowhere, and I got some ice cream at the 31 flavors place before I aimed my poor heart back to the wooden tent. When I got into the wooden tent I moved as fast a FLASH to get back in my sick bed and eat my ice cream. It was just like one of those nights I was a patient in the hospital and the last thing on my tray was a cup of Orange sherbert.

 

A cup of revival. Hope! A cup of survival. No more smoke and mirrors. I am thinking this is the last time I am ever going to go out again.

 

I remembered the Television series I started out thinking would finally bring me a sense of living a life as a family man. And I knew I wasn't going to get a woman with that as my plan. No flowers, no candy, no champagne was what I was going to get.

 

Gomez; I ain't. Fester either. I may as well be looking for the television series Leave it to Beaver. At least I know what the Beave became when he grew up.

 

I think I wouldn't have minded being like Jerry Lewis in Leading Man. My brain is so enchanted with the Saturday plan for meeting the girl of my dreams I am going to go to sleep now.

 

At least I can still dream!