Maebius Musings

Title says it all.

As a foil to my Mornings suck, musing, here’s a cheery one for you. 

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UPDATE: The images are not showing on my work PC, but can be viewed from outside the network. Here are the links to the images directly, if they are not displaying for you.

Maebius Ghost Pumpkin

Kid Spooky Pumpkin

Kid Spooky Pumpkin (dark)

Kid by himself Pumpkin

This weekend (after church) we did a lot of work outside, raking, decorating with corn stalks all around the mailbox, porch, and house, and all the various “post-harvest” type of things.   Still have a few potatoes to dig up that will get done tonight probably, but the rest of the garden is gone, and frost has taken the majority of the weeds down to root.    And in further signs of the season, we carved our annual pumpkins for next weekend’s Halloween/Samhain celebration.

First, my rather spartan and simplistic “Boo to you!” ghost.  It turned out pretty good, but seems rather lacklustre for some reason, especially compared to the kid’s Awesome spooky-face!

Here is the Spooky Face. He drew on the pumpkin with a pen, then helped Mom use the sharp knife to carve out the face he drew. Turned out Awesome, if I do say so myself, and is seriously spooky!

Last but not least, we found the somewhat more kid-safe pumpkin saw and let him carve whatever he wanted, entirely without assistance (except for helping scoop out the innards). This also turned out pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.

The goblins should be properly frightened from our doorstep this year!

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Forgive the somewhat cliche and lengthy title, but it sums up my mood today (monday).

This weekend, we took the long five hour+ journey to PA to help out a friend and get some things done that needed done. It involved shopping, and sawing, and such, but was not overly strenuous in terms of physical chores.  Still, there was much productivity and Things Got Done(tm).

The amazing thing about the whole weekend, was the transformation that overcame our family (or at least my wife and I) over the course of it.  Lately, things have been a bit grey and mundane.  We dealt with a death in the family, a relative’s unrelated auto accident, and one of those every project at work deadlines Today times that crop up.  The fact I had to miss my herb class made the weekend seem initially like just another Chore.
(no insult intended to those we visited, we still were going to come regardless. *grin*)

In reality, with such an unexpectedly relaxed atmosphere, and high productivity, it felt like this was a weekend quite well spent!  The trip down was made in record time, so much so that I am almost convinced that my joking comment about “taking the moon roads” (a ley-line shortcut) was partially correct.

The shopping resulted in new shoes that make walking comfortable, and thus firming the foundations of my family.   We ate tasty food that nourished our bodies as well as my heart (huevos rancheros = divinity on a plate!).   I played at the park and watched my usually shy son wander right up and get himself involved with both a pick-up Baseball game, and a Soccer match!

It was one of those weekends that just worked. Things went right, the sun shone unseasonably bright and warm, and a myriad of magical minutiae happened.

Even the ride home, usually long and arduous, was filled with the three of us howling at the moon when it peeked from the clouds, interspersed with an unusually chatty kid who put away his video game to play “alphabet games”.  I’m sure any bystanders seeing a family of 3 driving slowly with faces suddenly stretched upwards to the window in a long Awwrroooooo, would think we were nuts.   But we had fun, darn it.

The root beer?   A tasty treat from Trader Joes, to ease parched throats along the ride. Nothing less, but perchance more.  It was magic potion faerie root elixir if the kid is to be believed.

I couldn’t have asked for a better vacation!

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I’ve been working night-shift the last two weeks and it’s really odd, sleeping in short doses of 3 hours or so at a time, then being awake to hang out with the kid during the day, then sleeping a bit more, and from 4am-9am to be at work.   Makes you all sorts of foggy yet hyper-alert to subtle nuances of life.  I’m sure there’s a pharmacological alternative that does the same, though I doubt it would be legal. 

The past two days I’ve had a variation on the same dream, and last night’s was so absolutely clear and vivid, with very ‘real’ feelings of touch and taste and sound, that I had to write it down.  (Enjoy, Nettle!)  The first night it ended with catching the thief (see below) but last night started over again with almost no changes.   If I were more artistic I actually can recall with almost perfect clarity many of the images in this dream.  Usually I just remember snippets and vague impressiongs.   So since it still feels “important” to me, I’ll write it all down here for you.

Feel free to comment with your interpretations, as always.  Sorry for some more inside-references to Philly stuff and movies that you might not get unless you know me personally in real life.

It starts with myself, my wife, my son, and Nettle living in a small efficiency-style apartment within some large self-contained structure.  Almost “Star-Trek TNG” or similar setting, as far as the feeling of containment.   Outside, the door opened to a hallway of clean stainless steel that was not quite like a hotel without windows.  (Nettle, very like the bathrooms at that Indian buffet in Philly)  All the ‘dorms’ were in a grid around the outside of the hall, with an elevator or connecting hall to another “grid” of living quarters.    I knew without dreaming it that each ‘grid’ of 18-24 homes was named and themed somewhat, though not strictly.  I also knew the map of this place would map out an online MUD setting with real life as the theme of the game.

Our little area was mainly middle age folks, though some college-age and a larger number of not-quite-elderly.  Everyone I saw in the dining area, which looked like a fancy retirement home cafeteria, was wearing casual clothes and vaguely unconcerned with life.  If you’ve seen “Dollhouse” on FOX, think of the Tabula Rasa state, and it’s a decent match.  Our grid also had a big common room behind frostted glass doors in which people could do yoga or dance, etc.  Very austure yet colourful.  Basically like a Yoga retreat center now that I think about it, without the focus on yoga.

At some point near the beginning of the dream, I returned to my room and met Nettle and my wife stating that some ‘newspawn’ who popped into the place (literally, in this ‘game’ new people pop into Life fully grown) and was running around entering any unlocked doors and stealing things.  He had last gone [west] towards the University (another adjoining Grid of living spaces populated more by smart, attractive,  politically/business motivated young leader-types).

I moved through the rooms+halls quickly and caught sight of the unkept and ragged young man as he ducked into a traditional college dorm-room.  We entered and I grabbed his arm as the occupant of the room pinned him down.  We then found ourselves in the ‘principal’s office’ where a smartly dressed lady in a power-suit advised the thief that his next character should read the manual more carefully.  Nothing wrong with stealing, as it’s in the game mechanics, but he would do better playing nicely at first.

The, I was able to walk around the University area helping return a pile of small trinkets and wierd code-objects we picked off the thief, who was left in the principal’s office to be ‘educated’.  All this was more behind the scenes and had a vague sense of spookiness with an over-militarized sub-text.   No ill-feelings or sense of this group being enemies or opposed to my own Grid, just an awareness that different areas had different mini-cultures and I really didn’t fit in here.

I was suddenly back ‘home‘ and found my rommates gone to dinner, which happened to suddenly be the same common-room as my home-grid, but now hugely expansive and open  like a food court and having many little sections with different trees or seating areas with various little touches of decor.

I didn’t see them, but did step up to a large table of middle age folks chatting over tea and trading sewing tips or photos of their trips.  They had the casual air of my home-grid, but were unfamiliar faces.  On the pillar next to the table was a fancy wall-hanging consisting of a chuck of driftwood with a few silk flowers and ribbons on it.  Nothing too fancy, but a step above the type of paintings in a hotel lobby.  

I felt myself drawn to the chuck of wood, thinking it was the wrong shape and missing a peice that had broken off where a knot was, so I traced my fingers across it and did some kind of mindless and quite natural twiddling of my finger, and re-shaped the wood to look more correct.  Nothing major, in my mind.  

Yet suddenly, one of the occupants of the table seemed quite agitated and called a nurse over to help her out.  The table, and myself, was now back in a more sterilized nursing-home-like setting of our Grid, and a kindly assistant pulled me aside and warned me that such displays were quite frowned upon and should be reported to the Captain before any silly rumors start.   I was midly worried to meet the ‘Captainr’, which is the wrong word, but I can’t remember the term used in my dream yet felt like ‘Captain of the ship’.

Then we (me, wife, & Nettle, kid was not there) were back in our ‘home’ and preparing for a big event that evening.  I mentioned my woodshaping ability and was told matter-of-factly that random talents like that were fairly common, but usually not manifested so easily unless I inhereted both genetic mutations.  Most people had to create quite a few characters before they got one like that, and most had more direct-stat real-life applications such as strength, or inltellect, or reduced training costs for skills.  Again, the sense of being a character in an online MUD was there, but not fully formed in my head during the dream. I knew in that strange dream-logic that this was a game, but was also Life, and felt a bit more relaxed knowing it was a dream now and the University and Grid lifestyle were probably archetypes of something.  

 Nettle then had a presentation on stage for her sorority (more a sisterhood of young pagan scholars than a standard college sorority).  She was nervous about speaking in public, and worried that her (Valedictorian?) speech to the assembly would be ignored or some-such.  She magicked herself into a fancy new outfit, and looked stunning. (An evening gown kinda like this but more risque in shimmering electric blue with black belt, deep V-neck and open back, long dark-blonde wavy hair with diamond barettes, high HIGH heels, etc.  )  My wife and I also dressed up in more “business Casual” attire.  Myself, black slacks and a really nice silk or linen shirt with a nicely embellished suede vest.

As we left, my wife and I exchanged a wordless glance to acknowledge we’d support Nettle and I lightly traced a big flowery R in the inside of our home’s doorway.   The wood grain shifted to form the letter, complete with extra vine swirls and “illuminated Capital” frills. Nothing too fancy, but definitely stood out when seen in the correct light.    I felt a bit of worry or axiety for using this Talent so selfishly, without telling the folks in charge, but it was also felt to be “good” in the sense of an act done not in rebellion of rules, but in spite of them.

We then found ourselves at a large dinner-theater style setting, with immensely high ceilings and more ornamental trees arranged throughout the tables.  Each table was more a circle-bench like the booths in a corner of a restaurant, and the stage was in the center of the room, with the tables scattered nicely spaces around the perimiter.

At the first table we passed, my friend Varulv was there, who smiled to me as he sat with a Fraternity group of upwardly mobile friends.  They were all socially engaging people, actors, student government types, and such.  They were all the types of people who were financially successful and socially at-ease.  Simialr to the University Gridsters, but without that sense of Boarding School Overlording from earlier in the dream.   They all were drinking from a huge wash-basin-sized bucket (called a pitcher) of beer or something, using immense twirly straws.  This struck me as the coolest thing ever, to have in the future society, where everyone shared the drink.

Nettle sat with my wife and some random friends our age with a similar vat of beverage.  Ours was more orange yet still vaguely beer-coloured, and as I sat next to my wife and son, tasted like orange juice mixed with something sweeter like mango, and also rather alcoholic.  While I didn’t see any pulp, I got a few course chunks of sweet orange flesh in my mouth, and was enjoying it.  I could literally feel the pulp-bits in my dream, as I popped them in my teeth.  

Nettle smiles and asked if I liked the Splogg (the name of this popular beverage) and I agreed that it was good.   Up on stage, another young woman took the microphone to begin her singing and Nettle appeared slightly more agitated since she was to perform her speech after this song.

The woman was dressed similarly to Nettle though in a shimmering green/gold dress.  And started singing “Calling all Angels“  When she got to the chorus (…and IIII’m…) and more voices joined in from somewhere in the shadows, the magic started.  

Across the room, the table of University boys & girls stood up almost angrily.  Elsewhere, a group of older men in business suits knocked over their bucket of Splogg and stared in furious shock at the stage. Simultaneously, a nearby group of little kids let go of unseen balloons that drifted up and popped on the ceiling showing everyone with pixie-dust glitter.  From behind every tree, in the darkness, fireflies twinkled for a moment and vanished in a ‘pop’ of light.  Myself, I felt that tingling in my fingers and heck-hair-raising electricty of Power being raised.  The small potted bonsai on our table (never noticed that before) flexed and danced as my fingers twiddled of their own accord. 

When the singer was “Calling alllll angelllls“, about twenty people rose out of our seets, standing and smiling at one another beatifically.  Myself and my wife at our table.  Nettle and two other sorority sisters at the neighboring table (how’d she get over there so fast?), and others ranging in age from young 20s to late 90s.  All with Wise eyes and happy smiles.

Energy surged, and the song continued “I won’t give up, if you don’t give up“…. I felt a sense of anticipation that something wonderful was going to happen.

Then my alarm buzzed.    I stumbled up, had to make sure I swallowed the last bits of orange pulp that weren’t really in my mouth, and floated to turn it off.  Literally floated, or so it seemed, half-asleep and only recall my feet hitting the floor when I stopped the BEEPBEEPBEEP of the alarm.  It was 1am.

  ***

So, I’m calling all us Angels out there.   Work your magic.  Even if it’s warping wood or singing fireflies into being, use your Talents.  If the Principal gives you detention,  you won’t be there alone.  If you don’t give up, I won’t give up.  

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Replace “Island” with any number of Divinity/Spiritual/Love-inspired thoughts, and this sums up Life fairly well for me.

If Once You Have Slept On An Island

If once you have slept on an island
You’ll never be quite the same;
You may look as you looked the day before
And go by the same old name,

You may bustle about in street and shop
You may sit at home and sew,
But you’ll see blue water and wheeling gulls
Wherever your feet may go.

You may chat with the neighbors of this and that
And close to your fire keep,
But you’ll hear ship whistle and lighthouse bell
And tides beat through your sleep.

Oh! you won’t know why and you can’t say how
Such a change upon you came,
But once you have slept on an island,
You’ll never be quite the same.

— Rachel Field

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