After reading a couple of paragraphs of Carolyn Myss’s 'Sacred Contracts', over my first few sips of coffee this morning, I returned to the rest of the house, where the television was chatting away with the voices of some Vegetables who were taking on roles from a recent Indiana Jones script. What was I seeing? Why did this nonsense capture my attention so strongly? Can a television play the role of divine messenger? Perhaps it can stand in, momentarily, as Oracle…or hallucination? If Abraham heard a divine voice in a bush that caused his name to change…could a television stand in as a device for divine chit chat? Or am I mixing memories of old Hippy Daze with those of just finishing the making of a movie for school, in which the actors were all Mr. Potato Head toys?
Let me first tell of the events leading up to this:
I woke yesterday at 4:15 AM and, having taken a decision the night before to get up early and bake bread for my gas tank, I fought my way up to compliance and did just that. The morning went fairly smooth as I mixed yeast, flour and water together and set the bowls in a warmer room to ferment. While I waited for those first rises to be done, I turned on the computer and watched the final episode of 'Grey’s Anatomy' with my coffee. (It’s nice to see a favorite show at 5 AM, without a slew of commercials, or phone calls interrupting my entertainment.) After the first Sponge was ready for the rest of the recipe, I mixed and kneaded the dough, then replaced the bowl in the warm room. Halfway through it’s rising, I began another Sponge bowl. When the rising was complete on bowl number 1, I shaped the dough into loaves and set them to rise. I took the second sponge through the same process. During the waiting times, I would wash utensils, check email and have another cup of brew. In the end I had mixed, kneaded, shaped and baked three batches of Vienna bread. By noon, all was out of the oven, cooled on racks and bagged for delivery. The dishes were done and the sink cleaned up.
I then drove to the home of a friend who ordered two loaves for the first time. We visited and had a long overdue chance for conversation. It drifted into the realm of the esoteric, and unexplainable. Our visit was pleasant and when I left we agreed that we would continue the conversation. The weather was windy, and pushed my little truck around a lot. There was a storm going on, comprised mainly of restless air whose momentum and velocity increased throughout the day. That kind of wind becomes white noise, after the first non-stop hour, but grows to dominate one’s attention by the end of the day. By the time I arrived at home I had to use both hands to hold the door open against the wind just to get inside.
Since I could not contact my third customer, I turned to other activities, such as laundry,e-mail and Facebook. There is a thread in my Facebook page, about Lucid Dreaming etc, going on between two members. As I followed this, and a link or two that was included, I consumed a rather large serving of chocolate pudding. This sugary delight, combined with the full work day already behind, me put me into a half, and then full sleep state. I woke at 10:15PM on my bed, still shod and dressed. Great, what do I do at this time of night, fully rested and awake?
I ate some more chocolate pudding, of course, and viewed the Charlie Chaplin film 'Modern Times'. It was on a list of choices for homework in a class at school. The wind was blowing wildly the whole time. Around 1:15AM it rose to such a terrorizing level that I could see the wall of my trailer, 2 feet away from me, beginning to bow inwards. Something was slamming against the outside of the trailer and causing Dog and Cat some fretful moments. They came and planted themselves near me, as if it would make them safer. From experience, I sensed that this was a prolonged gust in excess of 50mph. Were we destined to leave Kansas behind tonight? I heard my neighbor’s picnic table go end over end until it slammed into the side of her trailer. Peeking through the blinds I saw not a single light come on at her place. Oh, to sleep that soundly! The three of us retreated to the bedroom. Musing over the points our instructor asked us to consider in the film, I finally fell asleep again. This is one way I compost material for required writing assignments.
At 7:15 AM this morning, Cat woke me with a gentle tug on my upper lip. “The sun is up, I have to pee and you need to feed me, NOW!” (Rhymes with MEOW!)
We are now, back to the Land of the Living, and the top of this posting’s tale.
Guy Noir, Radio P.I. from
Prairie Home Companion
As stated before, I returned to the rest of the house to find a story playing out an Indiana Jones script, with vegetables as actors. The Cucumber, 'Minnesota', is dressed the way I imagine the detective "Guy Noir" would be; classic London Fog style trench coat, and Bogart felt hat. He was on the trail of Sampson's Hair Brush. The pretty girl was being played by a Sweet Pea vine. They followed the trail to a barber shop in Tuscany. There, two Russet Potatoes portraying barbers, possessed knowledge of the Hair Brush’s secret hiding place. The sense of a Knights Templar thing rose and then fell in this script.
The strangest part (?) was when a rutabaga in a beige version of Boris Badinoff, possessing the voice of Rocky Rococo, rushes in and demands the Hair Brush of Sampson from our detective hero, Minnesota. Oh, I forgot to mention that the rutabaga was Canadian. The characters kept insisting that “he doesn’t look Canadian!”. The little bad guy grabs the brush and rushes off with it. Back at the Barber Shop, our hero, and the Sweet Pea commiserate with the two Russet Barbers over the loss. Suddenly the door opens and two RCMP’s, played by a couple of butternut squash, enter with the little bad guy in hand. Minnesota tells them that the rutabaga did not steal the Brush. In fact,the rutabaga reminded our Cuke of promises he made to Canada, at the time the Hair Brush was found at its hiding place. This is why he gave the Hair Brush to the little Canadian tuber. So the Squash Mounties leave the stage and the rutabaga leaves the stage. The barbers are still sad, and Minnesota goes to lunch with Sweet Pea, where they consume a veggie dish. Is that a comment on cannibalism?
Kids are getting this on Saturday Mornings now? I mean, I know we all wanted some change in programming for kids; less violence,cautionary tales, a bit of moral instruction of some sort etc…but really... Vegetables dreaming of an Emmy? Will kids want to eat their vegetables, if they are now talking to them on television, not to mention interacting with them on the web? I never wanted to eat Mickey Mouse or,gack,Popeye. I kind of wished Tom and Jerry were still beating each other up for grins. You know, something “normal”?
At this point in my morning, I am not sure if I’m awake or asleep. As stated before, I have had one very strong cup of coffee, along with the requisite paragraph or two of reading in the smallest room in the house. I thought when I left that room that I was more or less in the present. As I took a few minutes to absorb the script being played out on the TV screen, my sense of being somewhere else began to grow.
The thread conversation, re: lucid dreaming, re-entered my mental desktop.
It blended with memories of characters from an old Firesign Theatre production about a detective called,
“Nick Danger…Third Eye”
If your memory of Rocky Rococo,the sound of the rutabaga's voice,more or less, needs refreshing, click this link and choose sound sample #8.
Perhaps the funked up sleeping schedule, that of switching from the ‘9-5’ of school to the 4-noon of a baker,could be twisting me backwards to the Alpha state even as I stood here with my eyes wide open?Are these the Signs and Wonders for the 21st century? Or is it a simple case of Everything You Know Is Wrong?( which is coming to be my only solid belief as I watch the World's events of late unfold...) I can't decide at this time.
The wind has not stopped blowing long enough to break the spell.
I'll check back on this, maybe after the winds stop... around Memorial Day.
PS: The friend I visited yesterday, just phoned to say that same gust blew her kitchen window into her living room! The weather report posted it's speed at or over 63mph. Ah.....SPRING!
Let me first tell of the events leading up to this:
I woke yesterday at 4:15 AM and, having taken a decision the night before to get up early and bake bread for my gas tank, I fought my way up to compliance and did just that. The morning went fairly smooth as I mixed yeast, flour and water together and set the bowls in a warmer room to ferment. While I waited for those first rises to be done, I turned on the computer and watched the final episode of 'Grey’s Anatomy' with my coffee. (It’s nice to see a favorite show at 5 AM, without a slew of commercials, or phone calls interrupting my entertainment.) After the first Sponge was ready for the rest of the recipe, I mixed and kneaded the dough, then replaced the bowl in the warm room. Halfway through it’s rising, I began another Sponge bowl. When the rising was complete on bowl number 1, I shaped the dough into loaves and set them to rise. I took the second sponge through the same process. During the waiting times, I would wash utensils, check email and have another cup of brew. In the end I had mixed, kneaded, shaped and baked three batches of Vienna bread. By noon, all was out of the oven, cooled on racks and bagged for delivery. The dishes were done and the sink cleaned up.
I then drove to the home of a friend who ordered two loaves for the first time. We visited and had a long overdue chance for conversation. It drifted into the realm of the esoteric, and unexplainable. Our visit was pleasant and when I left we agreed that we would continue the conversation. The weather was windy, and pushed my little truck around a lot. There was a storm going on, comprised mainly of restless air whose momentum and velocity increased throughout the day. That kind of wind becomes white noise, after the first non-stop hour, but grows to dominate one’s attention by the end of the day. By the time I arrived at home I had to use both hands to hold the door open against the wind just to get inside.
Since I could not contact my third customer, I turned to other activities, such as laundry,e-mail and Facebook. There is a thread in my Facebook page, about Lucid Dreaming etc, going on between two members. As I followed this, and a link or two that was included, I consumed a rather large serving of chocolate pudding. This sugary delight, combined with the full work day already behind, me put me into a half, and then full sleep state. I woke at 10:15PM on my bed, still shod and dressed. Great, what do I do at this time of night, fully rested and awake?
I ate some more chocolate pudding, of course, and viewed the Charlie Chaplin film 'Modern Times'. It was on a list of choices for homework in a class at school. The wind was blowing wildly the whole time. Around 1:15AM it rose to such a terrorizing level that I could see the wall of my trailer, 2 feet away from me, beginning to bow inwards. Something was slamming against the outside of the trailer and causing Dog and Cat some fretful moments. They came and planted themselves near me, as if it would make them safer. From experience, I sensed that this was a prolonged gust in excess of 50mph. Were we destined to leave Kansas behind tonight? I heard my neighbor’s picnic table go end over end until it slammed into the side of her trailer. Peeking through the blinds I saw not a single light come on at her place. Oh, to sleep that soundly! The three of us retreated to the bedroom. Musing over the points our instructor asked us to consider in the film, I finally fell asleep again. This is one way I compost material for required writing assignments. At 7:15 AM this morning, Cat woke me with a gentle tug on my upper lip. “The sun is up, I have to pee and you need to feed me, NOW!” (Rhymes with MEOW!)
We are now, back to the Land of the Living, and the top of this posting’s tale.
Guy Noir, Radio P.I. from
Prairie Home Companion
As stated before, I returned to the rest of the house to find a story playing out an Indiana Jones script, with vegetables as actors. The Cucumber, 'Minnesota', is dressed the way I imagine the detective "Guy Noir" would be; classic London Fog style trench coat, and Bogart felt hat. He was on the trail of Sampson's Hair Brush. The pretty girl was being played by a Sweet Pea vine. They followed the trail to a barber shop in Tuscany. There, two Russet Potatoes portraying barbers, possessed knowledge of the Hair Brush’s secret hiding place. The sense of a Knights Templar thing rose and then fell in this script.
The strangest part (?) was when a rutabaga in a beige version of Boris Badinoff, possessing the voice of Rocky Rococo, rushes in and demands the Hair Brush of Sampson from our detective hero, Minnesota. Oh, I forgot to mention that the rutabaga was Canadian. The characters kept insisting that “he doesn’t look Canadian!”. The little bad guy grabs the brush and rushes off with it. Back at the Barber Shop, our hero, and the Sweet Pea commiserate with the two Russet Barbers over the loss. Suddenly the door opens and two RCMP’s, played by a couple of butternut squash, enter with the little bad guy in hand. Minnesota tells them that the rutabaga did not steal the Brush. In fact,the rutabaga reminded our Cuke of promises he made to Canada, at the time the Hair Brush was found at its hiding place. This is why he gave the Hair Brush to the little Canadian tuber. So the Squash Mounties leave the stage and the rutabaga leaves the stage. The barbers are still sad, and Minnesota goes to lunch with Sweet Pea, where they consume a veggie dish. Is that a comment on cannibalism?Kids are getting this on Saturday Mornings now? I mean, I know we all wanted some change in programming for kids; less violence,cautionary tales, a bit of moral instruction of some sort etc…but really... Vegetables dreaming of an Emmy? Will kids want to eat their vegetables, if they are now talking to them on television, not to mention interacting with them on the web? I never wanted to eat Mickey Mouse or,gack,Popeye. I kind of wished Tom and Jerry were still beating each other up for grins. You know, something “normal”?
At this point in my morning, I am not sure if I’m awake or asleep. As stated before, I have had one very strong cup of coffee, along with the requisite paragraph or two of reading in the smallest room in the house. I thought when I left that room that I was more or less in the present. As I took a few minutes to absorb the script being played out on the TV screen, my sense of being somewhere else began to grow.
The thread conversation, re: lucid dreaming, re-entered my mental desktop.It blended with memories of characters from an old Firesign Theatre production about a detective called,
“Nick Danger…Third Eye”
If your memory of Rocky Rococo,the sound of the rutabaga's voice,more or less, needs refreshing, click this link and choose sound sample #8.
Perhaps the funked up sleeping schedule, that of switching from the ‘9-5’ of school to the 4-noon of a baker,could be twisting me backwards to the Alpha state even as I stood here with my eyes wide open?Are these the Signs and Wonders for the 21st century? Or is it a simple case of Everything You Know Is Wrong?( which is coming to be my only solid belief as I watch the World's events of late unfold...) I can't decide at this time.
The wind has not stopped blowing long enough to break the spell.
I'll check back on this, maybe after the winds stop... around Memorial Day.
PS: The friend I visited yesterday, just phoned to say that same gust blew her kitchen window into her living room! The weather report posted it's speed at or over 63mph. Ah.....SPRING!
