I’m not quite sure how one goes back to sleep after having a dream of an old classmate throat slash himself in the kitchen, prompting a mad dialing of emergency services you know will arrive too late to do anything for him.
It was a far more graphic and visceral experience than most of my dreams. And I admit, I can have some real doozies. Usually, the gore is suggested. This dream was “in full Technicolor” and detailed.
I’m half-expecting to read something about him in the local news, it was so vivid. The other part is “don’t be absurd, J would never do anything like that.”
Except, my brain reminds me, that’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do if he wanted a ticket out of here.
As I said, I’m not sure how one goes back to sleep after a dream like that.
I recently upgraded my DAW and have been meaning to play around with it AND get more familiar with synth soundcrafting rather than using the synth presets.
Some of this is crafted sound, some of it is presets, about half-and-half.
I’m just playing around, not sure if this will end up as something.
Detail free description: I was looking for a mid-speed darkwave sound that was upbeat enough to dance to with an emulated classic Roland 808 drum machine sound (although I may modify it).
Slightly more detail: The arp and one layer of the pads are crafted sounds and the original bass sound was as well, but I wanted something punchier and livelier than what I was getting, so I went with a preset and tweaked it. The guitar is a great preset I live for guitar, so I did almost nothing with it. 134 bpm, for the curious.
This is two sections, repeated. If I were to flesh this out, I would add some bridges and empty space between. But this is something just cobbled together in about two or three hours and, while it was interesting to play around, I’m not sure how much mileage I can pull from it (it would need lyrics, singing and full engineering work to make it sound better). We’ll see. I can already hear the arp levels were lower than I intended. And there is zero panning.
Anyway, another one of my songs in less that two minutes thingies. This one clocks in currently at around 65 seconds, so you’ll only have around that much of your time to demand back from the timelords.
Flash fiction using Jolene’s prompt. Rules: Must use all four of the following and not kill your main character:
This time it’s bound to work
what is that smell?
mortician
toy maker
“Gah! What’s that smell?”
The shoveling did not stop. Nor did the speaker.
“Gah! I say, Nate — What’s that smell?”
“It’s called ‘death’, Jeff. I could go into the chemistry of putrescine, cadaverine and butyric acid but I’m afraid it would all go over your head and we’d still me forced to hear your heavy panting and repeated ‘Gah’ utterances because you have absolutely no respect for science.”
“Why didn’t you just say ‘science’? That’s all I needed to know. Not those ‘ines and acids.”
I was thinking (dangerous stuff, that) about totems last night after waking up (this morning?) to use the toilet and after laying back down and trying to find a comfortable position to grab another ninety minutes of shuteye before dealing with the day.
I wonder, at times, if there are truly no new tales to tell or does everything always sound familiar? What does it take to break that glass barrier? Or is it a concrete barrier we try to push past and discover new tales or, at least, new ways of telling the old tales and speaking the old verse?
Well these two lads are apparently already ready for the Minnesota winter.
So. Much. Floof.
Grendel is in the fore and Grímnir in the rear.
Apparently, they come looking for cuddles whenever someone is in the room and are curious about the world around them.
When I reached out to the breeder, I had asked several times about food they feed the kittens to avoid that stomach/digestive upset that goes along with switching them over to another food. I have one in mind that ranks high on ingredient quality, but wanted to load up on what they were feeding the boys so I could transition them over a week or so.
Learning point: It turns out that the conventional wisdom has changed with feline diets. Instead of “keep cats and kittens on a small diet rotation”, it turns out that this is no longer the recommendation. They’ve discovered that it can cause food sensitivities and pickiness compared to kittens who are fed a variety of foods; not just brands, but textures and types as well. It teaches the cats, rather than encouraging “finickiness”, to enjoy what they have and they have fewer digestive issues as an added bonus.
Seven years ago, the conventional wisdom was the exact opposite. Minimize variety and texture so they always eat what you give them because there is no benefit with variety. In other words, meatloaf M-Sat and Sunday, too. If you only know meatloaf, you won’t hanker for something else.
So, I’ll take her word (as well as a little research on my part that confirms it) that they should be ready to go with whatever we feed them.
Seems almost sacrilege to think that way after all these years being told otherwise. But I will accept it, seeing as there is science backing it up.
And they are slightly delaying the vaccinations and checkup to 9 weeks instead of 8 weeks, which also makes some sense. A week difference is not a huge difference and it gives their bodies more time to develop to get a better baseline on.
The breeder has invited the family down there for a meet and to meet the boys, but there is just too much going on in the coming two months to break away. Plus, it is a longish drive (2.5 hours each way). I might zip down myself, while the kiddos are on a roadtrip elsewhere, but I haven’t decided for certain if that will happen.
I still have so much to do to prep this place for kittens. I can’t hardly imagine how I will get it all done and still keep on top of the other chores I have ready at my feet.
I was joking around with my twin daughters last night about music and starting up a band (one more than a passable singer, the other plays flute and piano). They are toying around with starting up a cover band that does 80s songs in their own style and with their own instrumentation and in the middle of the discussion I smacked my forehead and cussed.
“Total missed opportunity,” I said. “I wish I would have thought about it when I was playing with various bands when I was younger.”
You know how it is when you are looking for something and you cannot seem to find it no matter how hard you try and then you stop looking for it and it suddenly appears?
Maybe it is an object you lost.
Maybe it is a social thing, like a new beau.
Maybe it is a word on the tip of your tongue.
Or a song you are trying to recall.
You turn around and see it, whatever it is. You are in the shower and suddenly the fragment becomes whole. You sit in a cafe and a stranger asks if you have a piece of paper to spare.
When we are no longer looking, it seems we find what we are looking for.
While we are still just a day over six weeks away before we bring two new household members into the fold (checks countdown meter for third time today), I still see no reason to not write about these two handsome young devils coming through the mists to join us.
They are not your average kitten: These kittens are skogkatter.
Skogkatt. Forest cat. The plural used in the title and throughout posts like this is skogkatter. If you say it aloud (SKOOG-kaht-er), it sounds much like what they are — something Scandinavian and old, a creature that belongs at the edge of the weald rather than a set-piece in the center of a room.
One of the few personal milestones I mark on this site is the anniversary of my sobriety.
In ways it is much like a birthday. If so, I am seventeen years old today. Happy birthday to me?!
I am lucky that there is rarely any temptation, even around others when they are drinking with me in the room. I would say that I am only tempted a handful of times throughout the year, if that many. And, when those moments occur, I find plenty of reasons not to indulge. When I made the decision to go sober, I was pretty close to bottom. The elevator didn’t go down much further.
I can’t say I recommend following my path to sobriety, if you or someone you know is looking to dry out. My path could have killed me (cold turkey without supervision or a support network). My body rebelled, heartily and I was physically ill for the better part of six or more weeks while my body adjusted to a new reality. Pangs of illness for another six months as the cravings kicked in. I didn’t use AA or other support networks. I went solo.
It was pretty stupid all around.
Anyway. I post to remind myself of how far I’ve come since those days, not to get all preachy on folks. You do you. As they say it, I won’t “yuck your yum” if you drink, nor do I judge people on that metric.
I hope all of you are doing well on this Wednesday.
