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Fermius Firefly

A Dream Log, whenever I remember the dreams I've had.

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Location: San Marcos, United States

Fermius is a pen name drawn from a series of short fiction I wrote when I published the small press magazine Stellanova (on paper.) I play RPG games to escape from my daily grind as a technology wage slave for the state of California. I eat out a lot in order to do my part in supporting our increasingly service level economy. I am butler to 2 feline masters. If you ask them they will tell you I'm not very good at it, late with dinner, don't have enough hands with brushes in them, and sometimes I even lock them out of their office.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Success for Women

Dreamed I was still with N and she was sharing a canned (as in the materials were litterally delivered in a cannister like one of the big popcorn tins) set of lessons on "Business Success for Women."

The first step was to send your husband up into the rafters to install a set of 2x4's between the rafters at the place where you want to hang your progress ribbons.

Which I did.

I don't know why my brain does this to me.

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Monday, August 18, 2014

Fish Rocket

The device was moving through the sky with a fish-like motion. It was painted orange scales lined with green fading to green scales lined with orange and had great big googly eyes. The tail fin was a beautiful dark green edged in the same orange scales as the head of the fish. There was a bluish glow of exhaust at the gills and a dashed contrail that started a dozen yards behind. The fins (wings) of the the airship were barely visible at the distance I witnessed it.

"Now, thats a UFO," someone said.

"Naw, haven't you ever seen a flying fish," someone else answered.


Monday, August 11, 2014

Break-In, Grab the Garbage Can and Hang On!

Early in the night I woke up from a dream where I came home early from work because I was feverish, and when I arrived there was someone taking the books and chargers off of the small shelf unit in my bedroom. Before I could call to sheriff, N interrupted me.

I asked what she thought she was doing in my house.

She said she just decided that she deserved the small bookcase after all.

"You mean the bookcase that came with the set of encyclopedias my parent's bought the year I was born?"

The person who was helping her stopped what they were doing, mouthed "sorry" at me and started putting the stuff back.

"I have a phone. You can call and ask if there's anything else you think you need." I was thinking I should just call to Sheriff anyway.

Interesting side note, this was not the "got thin and left me N," it was the younger very heavy N.

After that nightmare, I re-arranged the cats and fell back to sleep.

There was lots of driving and manual shifting going on, then I stopped where there were a group of short people filling small bags with supplies were left in the store. It was apparent that they were on foot. We needed to get out of the store and away, as they had accidentally opened up a store room where the zombies had been contained. I told them that they were welcome to camp at the top of the hill with me, but there were too many to fit in Little Red, so we moved over to a large van-like vehicle. I had everyone pile in, but then there wasn't enough room to put the trash can in to take it back up the hill. It had been tied into the back of Little Red, I believe it was full of food and water and other emergency supplies. Even though there was some urgency about getting away from whatever was in the store parking lot. I got the idea that a couple of people could strap themselves into the back and then hang on to the can. It had wheels, and I felt that I could go slowly enough to not burn them off as we only had a mile or so to go. Apparently the can was too heavy to lift up to the roof of the vehicle. (It had taken four of us to wrangle it out of my car. I had loaded it in place.)

They kept apologizing for letting the zombies out. I told them that if we could get away without them seeing us, they would eventually wander down hill, as that seemed to be the natural drift of the things if they weren't actually hunting.

Why didn't we  just lift it into the van and then have one or two people ride in Little Red with me. Or have the van follow me?

No one else could drive a stick shift.

They were all a little young looking, so may not even had learned to drive yet. That was going to be interesting. Post apocalyptic driving lessons for everyone. If I could get back down the hill to pick up my car.

Wednesday, August 06, 2014

All that Remains is the Drive

The cats and I managed to find ourselves in a mountain cabin, dirt floor covered in bamboo mats on the ground level, wood floors in the "u" shaped loft. The front yard was a rolling slope with a stream across the front and east side. A tall bamboo fence around the largish garden out back, where there was a spring that filled a huge stone basin and then ran off in a trickle past the cabin, under the fence and across the property to join in a larger stream a couple of hundred yards away. The water was quite warm, warm enough to not be comfortable in the summer. Warm enough that it powered a small generator with a heat engine. I loved the place, and the cats seemed content, but I missed my friends so packed s few things, left the auto-feeder fully loaded for a week, checked the wind and solar generators, and then headed down the hill in my electric four wheel drive.

The house had only an inflatable bed and a couple of chargers for my phone and tablet. A couple of books and an LCD clock sat on the short book case next to my bag of clothing. All the appliances were off and their doors open so they wouldn't become moldy. I checked the attic and all the cabinets one last time to make sure I hadn't left anything else behind, in the dream I remembered doing that nearly every weekend for the last couple of months and didn't regret that I wouldn't have to worry about it soon.

The house had finally sold. I signed the papers, and put one final load of stuff in the back of the car. I stopped at Lupita's for lunch. It seems everyone was getting ready to move. We calculated that the restaurant was going to remain centrally located to all of us, just a little further away. I regretted that I wouldn't be able to walk here any more, but I promised that I'd still roll down the hill to visit, and run games if anyone wanted, and they were welcome to come camp at my home and use the hot spring any time. There was high speed Internet connection and two RV hookups from when I first started building the "cabin."

We said our goodbyes. I walked back to the house one last time. I handed the keys to the Realtor. "Are you going to miss your home?" she asked.

"I'm headed there now, all that remains is the drive."

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

New House, New Furniture, New Books, New Cat

I dreamed I packed up the cats and moved to a new house. Not smaller, but larger, two stories and a large front yard with a steep slope down to the sidewalk. The movers couldn't figure out how to get the bed into the house so they left it assembled outside under the bedroom window. I tried to explain that they needed to take the parts of the bed inside before assembling it. This seemed to confound them even further. The best I could do was get them to put the bed in the garage, but since I had a ton of unpacked books in the garage I didn't have room for the bed there, either. They weren't willing to move the books into the house to make room for the bed, either. I realized I was going to have to hire someone other than the moving company to finish moving me in, and it ticked me off.

I finally gave up and sent them away, frustrated that they had crushed half the tulip bed in front of the house. I sat on the bed and sent a complaint to the corporate headquarters, then watched, getting more depressed, as the sprinklers came on and the one under the bed gushed (the head was probably broken off, of course) a torrent of water that washed out a gully in the front yard before I could find the sprinkler shutoff. I managed to get the window to the bedroom open and it was tall enough for me to put every part of the bed through it except the mattress. One of my new neighbors stopped by and helped me pick it up and slide it in through the front door on it's side. Somehow we managed to do it without getting it muddy, or even wet. (Unlike the base of the bed, which was soaked.) Fortunately the master bedroom had a stone floor, and so I set up the dehumidifier to help dry everything out. I thanked my neighbor with the last of the grapes from the vine at the old house.

I went to see what had happened to the rest of the house, and was pleased to see that my library/study had been set up (on the second floor) and there were a dozen book cases around the walls, the room was large, built as a billiards room originally, big enough for two tables and no elbow bumping. My new desk and computer took up a small corner near the door, and there was room for my old dining table (now relegated to gaming) and all of its rather large chairs. There was an elevator on one end of the room and a large bathroom opposite. I had originally thought of using this room as my master bedroom, but in looking around felt I had made the correct decision. I decided to hire a couple of college students to sort and shelve my books, as I had come into a large collection of reference books by winning a contest from a publisher of engineering and other reference works. (The sorts of things that a writer might find very useful.)

I went downstairs (well, used the elevator just to make sure it was working properly) and opened up the kitty room to check on the fur children. Their room opened up onto an enclosed patio, and the older cats were sitting out in the sun, looking over the back yard from vantage points that would allow them to keep tabs on the kitten. The kitten, a little Chloe like calico, was bounding around the room, chasing butterflies. As soon as she leaped at one it would pop up out of the way, and then land between her ears, teasing the tufts of fur in her ears with its wings. There were at least four of them playing with her. I cold tell that Teddy wanted to play along, but was busy being the dignified elder of the group. (Apparently Little John, Miranda and Fawn were gone and he was the new alpha cat - and taking the job very seriously.) Giles was actually slimmer than his current meatloaf like self and was entertaining himself by licking a window screen. Ember was eagerly watching the butterflies, but backed up any time the kitten rolled close to her.

I was pleased that they had settled in so well after the move. They were doing much better than I was. Just watching my cats made me feel calmer and mostly happy. A tiny part of me wished I had someone special to share it with.

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Friday, August 01, 2014

Why is it Raining in Here?

Seriously, what's with the rain, inside a video game, that takes place indoors. The dream would have been quite interesting if it could have continued, but my brain just wouldn't go along with the whole "it's raining inside" thing. The only bits of the dream I really remember other than the dark blues and blacks of the walls and the reddish brown color of the floor tiles is the stupid interior rain. Interesting lighting, too, coming as it was from the eastern windows set in long rows of slender tall paned windows with a pointed arch at the top. I can't remember the name of the shape now, but imagine the inside area of a wish-bone. None of the windows had curtains, but there was a thick layer of dirt and cobwebs that almost made it seem like there were curtains.

Despite the rain, the floors didn't look wet. That was a puzzler, too. I have no idea what the plot, theme, or genre of the game even was, though I am sure I knew it in the dream.

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