Twozdaz Theme Music

Groundhog Day” weather continues in Ashland. Air stagnation, temperatures between 35 (my system) and 46 F. Dry, with sunshine and blue skies, and highs bouncing between 50 and 60.

As repetitive weather patterns, worse is possible. Mom said the news warned it would be 15 below zero last night in Pittsburgh. I also saw snow down in northern Florida. It’s a topsy turvy weather year — so far!

Mom’s health and moods continue the topsy turvy motif. One day will deliver complaints about sis. Last night, she praised how sweet and thoughtful sis is. This reflects a greater pattern of pain, lucidity, and loopiness which we’ve noted. Mom’s pain and loopiness seem linked.

Mom said she took a long nap and felt so refreshed afterward. She vowed to take more nap, which I encourage, although not to the point that she’s sleeping all day and ends up awake all night. The napping sweet spot, shorter duration in the mid-afternoon is best, but I don’t think she can control that.

Another sister drove Mom to a doctor’s appointment. They decided to take her off blood thinners, hoping that’ll reduce Mom’s falls. I have my fingers crossed that they’re right.

Speaking of topsy-turvy — three times a charm — I think Trump’s message about Greenland has a topsy-turvy tone.

Trump’s Sunday message to Gahr Støre, released by the Norwegian government, read in part, “Considering your Country decided not to give me the Nobel Peace Prize for having stopped 8 Wars PLUS, I no longer feel an obligation to think purely of Peace.”

A nation – Norway – doesn’t give the Nobel Peace Prize. That’s decided by a committee, although they are in Norway, per Alfred Nobel’s will. That’s some topsy-turvy logic. To me, this is like saying that the United States didn’t give a foreign actor an Academy Award, so they’re not doing business with the United States any longer.

It’s not the United States which give Academy Awards, and Norway doesn’t give the Nobel Prizes.

The other way that Trump’s tone is topsy turvy is his response to failing to win the Nobel Peace Prize. Most people failing to achieve a goal, vow trying harder. Imagine a coach not winning the Superbowl, responding, “You didn’t give me the Lombardi Trophy for winning the Superbowl, so I’m going to work less hard.” Topsy turvy!

The Neurons spilled a 1972 song into the morning mental music stream. “Only Solitaire”, by Jethro Tull, is about performers — actors, musicians, politicians — pompously delivering their shows for us.

The Neurons flagged this song for these specific lyrics today:

Court-jesting, never-resting–he must be very cunning
To assume an air of dignity
And bless us all
With his oratory prowess
His lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air

And every night his act’s the same
And so it must be all a game of chess he’s playing–

But you’re wrong, Steve. You see, it’s only solitaire

Reading about Trump today invited these lyrics into my thoughts. It’s the same story from him every night: me, me, me. I am misunderstood, unappreciated, unrecognized, and I give so much.

It’s not the attitude that We the People need. It does fit these topsy turvy times, though.

Hope your day is straightforward happy, joyous, and healthy. Perhaps a tincture of peace and grace will be thrown in. Let’s hope so. Cheers

In Flight

A jet carves a white trail
Through a clear blue sky

Carrying people
Going home
For business
On vacation
To places unfamiliar
Visiting lands
They used to know

Others could be going back
For a death
A birth –
A love

Different destinations
Bodies
In a frame
Of space
In time

Captured
In a moment
Of gazing
Wishing –
Wondering

Standing
All alone

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

I was in the coffee shop — typing, revising, thinking, scrambling through the novel, noticing faults and fixing them. Progress was steady but heavy with challenge.

.Another customer approached my table. Regulars, she and I briefly spoke together a few times. Today she said, “Excuse me, but I love watching you at your table.”

Blinking, I gave her my attention.

She continued, “You become so deeply focused and oblivious to the rest of us, it just amazes me. I’m sorry to interrupt you but I really felt an itch to say something.”

I thanked her with a laugh. “Don’t worry. Interruptions can be helpful. Sometimes a little break is needed to help me think more clearly.”

We exchanged names, then she left the coffee shop, leaving me smiling.

Sometimes it feels good to be noticed as orders are called out, conversations rise and fall, and people come and go.

It feels…human.

Mundaz Theme Music

Monday, January 19, 2026 has rolled into Ashland. 32 F at the house, Alexa and the net insist it’s 43. Stagnant air warnings remain, but the blue sky and sunshine offer hope for something better. Highs are expected to kiss 60 F, maybe inch over that.

Why then, am I down?

Something unidentified broke my sleep last night. Papi swears it wasn’t him. Nor do dreams seem like the cause. The three remembered dreams offer the typical blend of wonder, hope, and anxiety. Writing is going well. Maybe my hormones are causing something. Hormones can be sneaky, underhanded energy challenges.

I felt like Dad’s spirit visited me yesterday afternoon. Busy exercising, my mind was free. A sad thought that I couldn’t pick up the phone and call Dad passed through me. Then it was like Dad was suddenly there, grinning and laughing like he was fifty years younger, a startling few moments, to which I smiled.

Dad and I were both in the military for 20 years and enjoyed cars. We also enjoyed robust political discussions.

During my last conversation with him, he told me he disapproved of Trump’s policies and behavior. He also commented that his wife and her family were staunch Trump supporters. Living in Texas, he was surrounded by MAGA, and related that there was ‘no talking to them’. Those folks consistently maintained that Trump could do no wrong.

Frank, Mom’s significant other and Army veteran, scowled when talking about Trump. The man rarely cursed but when he did, it was often in conjunction with Trump.

I’m pleased both of them passed away and won’t need to endure watching Trump’s policies unfold.

The Neurons turned to Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughn to help me climb out of this funk. “Born Under A Bad Sign” plays in the morning mental music stream. I wasn’t born under a bad sign but I feel like I woke up under one today. I’ll indulge in some blues music, sipping coffee, partake of some news and blog posts, and sort myself.

Hope your day starts under a good sign that things will go well for you, perhaps one with hints of peace and grace.

Another Wandering Thought

Drinking and writing in the coffee shop, I briefly emerged from my fog of words. Conversational strands pulled me in.

“We’re losing ’em all,” a customer said to the barista, Preston.

“Yes,” Preston agreed.

“There’s only one Beatle left, isn’t there?”

I flipped the Beatles’ names through my mind: Paul, John, George, Ringo.

“Yep. No, two,” Preston said.

“Yeah, that’s right, Ringo and George.”

Preston answered, “No, George and John.”

“That’s right,” the customer agreed, walking off.

Eyebrows rising, I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to call out a correction.

“No, wait,” Preston shouted. “John and Paul. No, Ringo and John. I mean. Paul! Ringo and Pau!”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Thank dog they came through with the right names.

I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t.

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