Sometimes my subconscious makes me feel better

    Not about life necessarily (though that happens, too) but about me. Or my larger mind. Last night I dreamed (also dreamt) that I was taking care of a relative's baby. Granted, I don't have any relatives likely to have a baby, but hey, it was a dream. He was a very good baby, very quiet. But I gradually noticed that he had a very faint strawberry birthmark covering his face. In real life, this would be somewhat alarming. In the dream, I was very accepting, and very confident that everything would work out. Either it would fade or the kid would get by. These ideas aren't very consistent with reality, but they were nice in the dream.
    My other dream wasn't so nice. I had earned a whole lot of money. I did so legally, or at least the dream didn't specify otherwise, but I was keeping it in cash in a gigantic clear plastic bag which, other than being full of cash, looked like a very large square pillow case. A friend of mine from long ago in real life turned up with two totally fictitious employees. He and I were quite friendly but the employees clearly had designs on my plastic bag. They all went away but the employees came back. My dreams are often a bit bifurcated, such that, say, in this case in one fork I fight them and in another I talk them out of their larcenous intentions. I think my sleeping mind chose the latter eventually. And this also makes me feel better about my subconscious, and my mind in general.
    I also feel better about the mockingbird, who finally shut up and let me sleep without tunage, which in turn probably is what allowed all these vivid dreams. Long may he wave, so long as he's quiet at night!

What was THAT all about?

    So for a couple of days there, everybody in the world (give or take six or seven billion) was surfing in on my blog. It was particularly odd because of the number of countries they were from. It wasn't quite every country on the planet, but it was getting there. Also, there were very few referers shown, as if they all just happened to surf in at random at appoximately the same time. I certainly don't mind; everybody's welcome here (Hi!). It was just more than a little weird. I wonder if I was Blogger's blog of the day or something similar. I guess I'll never know. Regardless, the influx seems to have ended. Thanks for dropping by, everybody!

Good evening

    I'm always more than a little non-plussed when someone wishes me a good evening and it isn't in fact evening. I was especially so this morning before ten when the bagger at Publix did so. I wish I could have come up with some clever, witty riposte that might have, you know, underlined what time of day it in fact was. The best I could come up with, a few minutes too late, was, "I'm still working on the morning, but I'll try to have a good evening, too." Still, I dunno; might come across as snotty. The guy meant well. I guess the best is still the traditional: "Thanks. You, too!"
    Meanwhile at dialysis, zippiness did not last. We had an hour's wait in reality. Even allowing for the fact that we arrived early and that they expect a fifteen-minute grace period, it was still a half hour. I didn't jump up and down or foam at the mouth or anything, but I was not terribly well-pleased. (Well, actually I was, having awakened for some reason in a surprisingly good mood, but not well-pleased about the situation at hand.) Ah well, there will be better days.

Smudge

    Dang kitty had a smudge on her head yesterday. Or a flea. I about drove myself crazy trying to figure out which it was. Amelia tends to flee (har de har) whenever I come at her with the flea comb, but I eventually got her calmed down and was able to check her head pretty closely. I don't have the kind of eye-hand coordination that would allow me to pluck a flea off her, but I would definitely be able to see it move. I didn't. Today, the smudge, or flea, is gone. She hasn't been scratching herself any more than usual, so I figure she just got dirty. Maybe another one of her chimney forays. I'm still thinking about getting her some Feline Advantage regardless. Better safe than sorry.

Zippy!

    The dialysis facility got Dad in back immediately today! So fast, in fact, that I couldn't get the car moved out of the unloading area and his pillows and blankets inside to him before he was gone. (A staffer was waiting on them, though.) And it was a busy morning for them, too. So maybe the "Sure he's a big wheel, too, but he ought to have priority because he's 91" argument carried the day. Or maybe it was sheer luck, who knows? We'll see as time goes on. But for today I'm very, very pleased.
    Meanwhile in Margaretville, she and Dad seem to be adjusting to one another better all the time. Hope that keeps up, too. Yay all around!

Nano nano

    OK, maybe I'm a trifle anal-retentive. I was reloading the iPod Nano with old-time radio shows, like I mentioned the other day that I would. It holds 8 Gb, but I had learned the first time that eight doesn't really equal eight. So I tried to put on about seven and a half. This was too much; iTunes put on what it could. So I looked and found that 8Gb is really 7.35 Gb. So I cut my choices down to 7.34 Gb. Same thing happens, and again at 7.24. Finally, I got it cut down to where I could get all my data files on there. It was much more effort than was needed for a result where I'll never be able to tell the difference anyway. But hey; I am in CONTROL! Also deliriously happy to have my Nano the way I want it.

Scritches

    Six years with this kitty and I call her dumb. Often, she scratches the top of her head furiously with her back foot. She often does this when I've just been giving her scritches. I worried that she might have some extremely slick fleas that left no other proof of their presence, or maybe mites or something. The other day, though, it finally occurred to me that what she was saying was, "Scritch here, stupid!" Just on the inside edge of either ear. Given the worshipful looks that she gives me when I do so, I think I'm finally reading her right. Smart girl. Dumb John.
    In other kitty-related matters, living with a cat and with no person has me mostly talking baby talk. It hasn't affected my brain though, not at all. That's a GOOD brain! It's a sweetie-sweet-sweet brain! It's the best brain in the whole darn world! No, hasn't affected me a bit.