Sonne im Herzen will ich Dir schenken... heut' und alle Zeit

It's the opening line of a German Schlagermusik song sung by Gitti & Erica. I want to give you sunshine in your heart; today, and forever. (Or however you want to write it with appropriate punctuation). [One of the things that I so love about my own blogging in this relatively unknown place/space is that I don't need to conform to the rigid rules of grammar and formatting!]
When asked what my favorite activities or pastimes are, I think of saying sleeping and eating. Sleeping in MY bed and eating MY food. I love these actions because they are transformative and propelling. They evoke thoughts of being elsewhere in time and space. When I am in a dreamlike flight, my arms move effortlessly in the air and there are no obstructions about me; no noise, no resistance, no sense of wind in my face or pushing against my body. It is as if I am moving about in my direction and at my velocity at will... MY WILL.
And food? Well, it brings back childhood or it repairs and restores bad childhood memories. I eat many things that were unknown to me where and when I grew up. Beans and rice for breakfast. Tofu slices in a vegetable broth. Lentil loaf or barley and mushroom soup for any meal. I am unaffected by hot foods or cold foods. I just opt out of eating highly spiced foods. And I am selective about the aromas of spices to the point that they exclude them from acceptable cuisine. So, there's no curry, cumin, cilantro, or hot sauces. I also use no MSG, limit salt intake, and have a variety of paprika in the larder.
Some folks would claim that this is boring cooking. NOT SO. The spice rack includes summer savory, tarragon, dill, dried shallots, crushed garlic, chervil, basil, oregano, paprika, cinnamon, parsley, bay leaves, marjoram, sage, thyme... the list is extensive and I help keep PENZEYS afloat!
So how does any of this fit into the title of this blog. Hmm... there is also a very odd dream that haunts me now and again. I think of a straight friend of mine whom I met in 1977. He is Austrian and has never been to the USA. He's very right wing(ed) and even had to leave work early r/t a claim of stress. He writes rabid nonsense to me that's anti-mask, anti-vaccine, anti-Biden. He bum rapped the former chancellor of Germany, Angela Dorothea Merkel because of her public health edicts. Now he sends me blithering babble about how America is antagonizing Russia by supporting Ukraine.
How often I bite my tongue from saying, "An Austrian should not be wagging a finger at an American about inappropriate governmental leadership. The former Führer wasn't exactly a day at the beach for the democratic world."
For some reason, I dream of his yet-to-be-conceived grandchild. I am there as the only non-native speaker and the child is shown off for all to, "Oooh!" and "Ahh!" When it is my chance, I ask if anyone sings to the child. They seem dumbfounded. I then recall a song from the 1970s and sing it. They roll their eyes. Perhaps they pretend that they had never heard it. Perhaps they prefer to know that they had ever heard it. Perhaps they are frightened that they might want to SING ALONG WITH MITCH (Austrian style). Seeing their horror or incredulous stares is affirmation enough for me