Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I stand with President Zelensky and Ukraine. When Russia attacked Ukraine, the United States gave support and encouragement. Agreements were signed. Friendships and alliances were established.
You just don’t turn your back on these things. Not if you have honor and integrity.
PINO Trusk demonstrated again that he has neither.
I was set up to run. I learned that there were four courses.
All were unfamiliar to me. A young man, this was a competition. Someone else signed me up for it. Their faith in me — and I don’t know who signed me up — flattered me. I vowed to do the I could.
The four courses were laid out over the course of several green hills. They were long distances but we were expected to sprint over them if we wanted to win. As I chugged over them, I discovered various degrees of muddiness despite a wealth of sunshine. Other competitors were encountered but all of us were focused on learning the courses and practicing our runs. Dressed in dark shorts and a white tank top, I did this for three or four days in a row. Then, while running on another day, I discovered crowds gathering to watch. As I ran by them, I heard some exclaiming to others, “He’s running the race.”
From other comments, I learned that everyone else had quit or had been eliminated. This fueled me to go faster and try harder. But I also learned that many people thought the competition were over. They were crossing the courses, forcing me to go through crowds. Seeing me still running, though, some of the people acted like officials and cleared a path for me. Some now began applauding and cheering. Others said, “He’s going to set a new world record.”
I awoke as I began the final course. I felt strong, exhilerated.
Cool dream.
Yesterday, sunshine was uncorked on us. Washing through blue skies, our air temp crested 70 F and lived there for a while. Gorgeous day, right?
Today, it’s 51 F and sunny. But we’re only expecting 63 F. And…rain. Still, pretty springish winter day. ‘Bout average for Ashlandia on Saturda, March 1, 2025.
Yep, a new month has begun. Sixteen percent of 2025 has been experienced. Those expecting a calm after the 2024 elections are probably disappointed. Those working for the Federal government in any capacity are likely stunned. Those hoping for lower inflation are probably too overwhelmed for emotions.
One thing unchanged are the lies that come out of Trump’s mouth. ‘Another lie’: MSNBC’s Nicolle Wallace smacks down Trump and Vance’s latest claims. No matter the subject, he will reliably lie, twist history, and bloviate, a fool who thinks himself a genius. He’s demonstrated these ‘qualities’ throughout his lifetime. Since he first announced his run for POTUS, it has been recorded and documented. And it sill goes on because his cult followers and the GOTP gleefully slurp it up by the spoonful.
Let me turn away from that. Take a coffee break for a while.
The Neurons dragged today’s song out of 2015. It came from a morning compound of wondering and cogitating as I slept-walked through the morning observances related to cleaning, feeding, eating, drinking. Prepping goes with all that. The routines induced a reflective miasma about being younger. Only, I was not the direct object of these thoughts; I was focused on Mom and Dad. Dad is with his third wife. In his nineties, he has issues but she’s younger than him by a decade and tends him well. His situation is solid.
Mom, though, is 89. She lives with her 95 year-old-fiance. It’s an old, three-story house. She falls a lot. Injuries and worries ripple out of each fall. She blames her back for her falls. I blame pride. I blame her refusal to accept her limitations and adjust her activities to their new scope. I understand; I don’t give up my routines. They’re routines because they comfort or reassure, or we enjoy them. These routines address something in our psychological makeup which isn’t easily altered.
The song is by Lukas Graham. As I went through the thought exercise of looking back, gazing forward, and reflecting on now, “7 Years Old” played in my morning mental music stream. The song is about reflections of being different ages and the attitudes and memories of that age prevail. So it was quite apt for my morning mental meandering.
Coffee and a doughnut are trespassing on my taste buds. Don’t know how they got past my defenses. Hope your day rocks in needed good ways. Here we go, in three…two…one…
Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 