

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I took on an easy DIY project yesterday. This was a new foyer light.

This was my wife’s idea. I thought the old one was fine. We’d installed it shortly after moving in back in 2005. It worked, putting out light and everything. Click on, click off.
My wife said, “We need to update our lights. It’ll make the house look newer.”
Sure, I thought with a mental shrug. I had no reason to buy a new light but had no real reason to oppose buying a new light. They don’t cost much, and the old one will be donated to Habitats for Humanity and re-used.
We went on a light search together, an outing I found tedious and boring. I found this light and offered it as a possibility. “Let me think about it,” she answered, walking away. A little while later found her back at the light. We discussed its pros and cons.
“It’s black,” I said. “With seeded glass.” She’d specified those things. That’s what attracted me to it. I’m a hunter; she established those parameters and that’s what I sought.
“It’s flush mounted,” she said. “Can you install it?”
“Yes.” I was surprised she asked. I’m a budgeteer DIY. There’s little that I don’t think I can do, given time, tools, and video instructions. But the reality is, I’ve installed over a dozen ceiling lights in my life. The first was in Germany, where I shocked myself in an episode which will only die in memory when I pass away. I’ve been a lot more respectful of electricity after that.
So, she was out yesterday — Girl’s Night at the Movies, done at 1 PM because none of them want to drive at night. The feature was Earth Girls Are Easy. With her out, I pursued the new install. Half an hour, I figured.
I’m such a stupid optimist.
After turning off the power to the light (see, lesson learned), I pulled out the ladder and removed the old light with relative ease. So far, so good. But I needed to remove the installation plate as well; the new light and old plate did not match up. No big thing, right? Just two screws.
Here’s where WTF entered the project.
I could not get one screw to turn. At friggin’ all. Different screwdrivers were tried. WTF, over? I mean, I screwed it in. I should be able to screw it back out.
By now, my body was running with enough sweat to fill a bathtub. Repositioning the ladder a few times, I positioned myself to apply max torque. I realized that part of my issue was that the mounting plate was not perfectly aligned with the screw, and that extra pressure was hampering my efforts. So, I wedged that thing around just a little. With the slowness of a MAGAt realizing that Trump lied to them, the screw finally began turning. Of course, it’s a two-inch long screw, a bolt, really. I finally got it out, though.
The rest was as easy as eating pizza. I was just finishing as my wife arrived home.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“No sweat,” I answered.
We agreed, it looks better than the old one. The photo doesn’t do it justice. It’s a lousy camera phone’s lousy photo. But the change was startling. The other light hung down about half a foot more, so it had more of a ‘presence’. The change to this light opened up the space.
I told her all that. She agreed.
“Now we just have to do the breakfast bar and dining room chandelier,” she said.
I’d installed them. Sure, that was twenty years ago, but I nodded.
“No sweat.”
And just like that, kits and kittens, it’s Frida again. Today is August 15, 2025. A cool one in Ashlandia, the mercury’s digital movement is pointing at the low 70s at the mo, but has plans to travel on to the mid 80s. Topping it with strong but not overly potent sunshine and blue skies o’er the mountains, and a recipe for a pleasant summer day has been found.
Several dreams are remembered from last night’s delivery. Talking to myself — because I was the only one there, having been abandoned by the cat (who ate and left without a sound) and the wife (who was off to exercise class) — I said, “I had too much to dream last night.” Then I laughed. But the laugh was on me as The Neurons supplied the morning mental music stream with the 1960s era Electric Prunes psychedelic song, “I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night”. Some friend of sis owned the record, so I heard it. The take on the title amused young me but I was more intrigued by the group’s strange name. It inspired me to imagine other possible names, such as the Gas Apples and Cherry Wash. Neither of those names ever caught on with a group, so far as I know.
I noticed some good news for Trump today. With economic data piling up showing prices are rising, polls are showing that Trump’s disapproval is also rising. Many more disapprove of Trump’s performance as he took over D.C.’s police force, sending in Federal law enforcement personnel. They’re a waste there, and people outside of Trump and his band of nattering nabobs knew it. They don’t like it. This is all good news for Trump, as it takes We the People’s mind off of Trump’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein. The climbing disapproval ratings for Trump means that less people are vocally showering him with reminders that he promised to release the Epstein Files and the Epstein List, and that he’s broken that promise. The rising PPI, Producer Price Index, which shows the cost of making things jumping by 9 percent in July, is good news for Trump because it takes him off the hook for releasing the Epstein Files and revealing how much he’s implicated in some of the crimes that the convicted dead sex offender did.

For the record, my web page scramble this morning has a side serving of a USA Today story:
Trump approval rating round-up: Where does president stand in recent polls?
The article reports that the Pew Research Center’s survey has Trump at a new high in disapproval: 60%. Of course, all eyes are on Russia, I mean, Alaska — sorry, but Trump kept saying that he was going to Russia when his trip was planned to Alaska, so it’s just stuck in my brain — where Trump is meeting with Putin to discuss Ukraine. Trump thinks he’s all that and more now, since U.S. Republicans let him push them around. I don’t think Putin is quite the pushover. But Putin knows Trump and will let TACO crow and lie about getting a victory without getting a damn thing.
Coffee is flooding The Neurons, and they’re eagerly awakening. Time to rock another day. May grace and peace flow over your day’s endeavors. Cheers
Just a reminder of Trump hypocrisy, duplicity, and priorities.

It’s like his hypocrisy, duplicity, and dishonesty about the Epstein Files. Trump claimed and promised he’d have them released.
Exclusive: Trump Reposted Promise to ‘Expose’ Epstein Network in 2022

Now, though, now that Trump is the person in charge, it’s a whole other story being told.
Fact-Checking Trump’s Epstein Defenses In the face of mounting discontent over his administration’s handling of the Jeffrey Epstein files, President Trump has turned to deflection, denial and downplaying.
The con man carries about nothing but himself and his image and power. If the Epstein Files carried so much damaging information about Democrats in it as TACO has claimed, there wouldn’t be an ice chip’s chance in hell for it to not be released.
No, this file is about him. Trump. And that’s why this twisted liar fights against getting it released. Trump is scared of what’s in it.

I’ve already created emergency preparedness plans for our house. I almost felt compelled to.
First, I spent my life from 18 years old to over 38 years old in the U.S. Air Force. Almost all of those years were in command and control. My initial duties were to learn how to execute checklist and manage communications relating to disasters affecting my base and unit, and executing war plans as defined by our mission. Then I trained others in those procedures. As I advanced in rank, I gained the responsibilities to write and review the plans, operational procedures, and checklist for disaster preparedness and recovery, and taking care of business.
All that sprawled over into the rest of my life. No matter where I was stationed, overseas or in the U.S., there was always a chance for a war, riot, or natural disaster such as a tornado, hurricane or typhoon (cyclone), earthquake, flooding, wildfire, etc. So I wrote us plans and checklists for coping with that, printed them out, and reviewed them with my wife. When we lived in areas prone to those problems, the local authorities strongly encouraged you to have those things and be prepared, so we did. They reside in a desk drawer but copies are in both cars.
So that’s how I am. Prepared. A checklist dictates what we need to take. We have a go-bag sitting in the closet and a kennel ready for the cat. Three days of clothing is inside the bag. Blankets and old pillows are in another go bag. A little case sits by our meds, ready to be swept up and carried off. A large cardboard box sits in the garage, ready to be filled with food. We keep unopened jars of large peanut butter available for that, along with other foods, such as energy bars, instant coffee, tea, utensils (including a can opener), cat food and treats. Our important papers are in a fire-resistant strong box so we can pick that up and go. We have a case of one liter bottles of water on hand. We also have a dozen plastic gallon jugs ready to be filled and carted off. We’ve had to get ready to evacuate places a couple times, so we’ve practiced grabbing all those things. Besides the basics of AM/FM radio, cell phones and flashlights, we keep a solar powered energy brick charged and ready to go. Extra radio and flashlight batteries are kept in plastic bags beside the go bag in the coat closet between the foyer and the garage.
Are we ready? I hope so, but I know from going through these things, plans go awry. I prefer to keep my fingers crossed and hope that we never need to do these things. But just in case, I’m going to do my best to stay prepared.
Fingers crossed, you know?
One thing many of us notice when we buy things online: they frequently arrive in boxes. Sometimes it’s boxes in boxes. The Bloomberg News information read via Alternet about box sales then becomes another warning sign for the Trump economy:
‘Not looking great out there’: Analysts warn this unexpected indicator predicts Trump slump
Bloomberg reports falling cardboard box sales are starting to worry analysts about consumer spending in the Trump economy.
“It’s just not happening, and they have no control over it,” said Adam Josephson, a former sell-side analyst who covers the paper and packaging sector. “[Across industries] all the measures I track are pointing in a not-very-good direction.”
Given Trump’s fear of facts and truths, it would surprise me not if some wealthy donors or other organization just starts ordering boxes to push the numbers up. Illusion, lies, and misinformation is the TACO Regime way. As noted economist Paul Krugman has commented, the hard data catches up with the soft data. And the soft data of CEOs announcing plans to cut back on production, lay off employees, and raise prices due to tariffs, shows the economy heading downhill.
It’s another Thirstda. With it, I realized, we’re on the cusp of August’s middle. Today is August 14, 2025.
We have a mild cooling trend underway. 68 F now, today’s high will peak at 86 F, falling from 93 F yesterday. Tomorrow is projected to be cooler yet. Rain is expected Satyrda and Sunda, with respective highs of 78 and 80 F.
I admit, I’ve never paid close attention to the Trumps. It shows; I often confuse the Trump women – Ivana, Ivanka, Marla, Melania. Lot of times, my Neurons will roll over and declare that Trump is married to Ivanka, his daughter. I suspect it’s my brain responding to casual connections projected in social media prompting my confusion. Anyway, Mea culpa.
An article I read asked and pursue the same questions in my mind about planned Trump’s White House ballroom construction: surely things like this are subject to oversight, permits, laws and regulations. The article reported that Trump has not applied for any permits. I, of course, snickered about that. I easily imagine Trump wiping out those requirements with his patented triad of weapons, the executive order, lies, and bullying. If oversight agencies aren’t checking him on other matters, why would anyone be naive enough to believe heritage, construction, and safety laws and regs will be applied? We know they won’t. This ‘law and order’ POTUS is pretty damn lawless. Part of his lawless path was charted by the Roberts Court, who decided something like, if the President does it as part of his official duties, it’s okay. So, there. He can build whatever unsafe, unregulated tacky outhouses that he wants on the land the We the People own. We the People can’t do a damn thing about it except write posts, protest, and call our elected reps. Oh yes, and try to vote him and that whole cancerous mass out of office.
Today’s theme music was caused by my wife. She and I were talking about a television show, Misfits, which we used to watch. She said, “Remind me.” With little thought, Les Neurons began playing the 2001 Nickelback song, “This Is How You Remind Me” in the morning mental music stream. This is how The Neurons work. All that’s needed is a tiny jiggle of a small connection between a song and a moment and they’re off!
Coffee is watering my nerves and energy is blooming in me anew. Time to risk getting dressed and going outside and interact with other humans. Hope grace and peace find you today and every day. Cheers
I’ve been hearing a little voice in my head. Well, there are actually a few. I live by a committee of voices in my head. Some are writing advisors, editors, and muses. Others are DIY budgeteers. Several more very vocal citizens and progressives are in there, often spitting mad with exasperation and disgust as the Trump wrecking ball obliterates democracy, decency, and morality in the United States. Besides them and voices of memory who like to bring up things I have done and enjoyed, I also have a couple health consultant voices, a few therapists and exercise coaches, and relationship advisors. On the whole, they’re mostly civilized, respecting the other voices, only speaking up when the others are quiet.
One thing I’ve learned from all of these is not to ignore them. As time has threaded past, I’ve repeatedly been re-educated that the little voices often know a lot more than me about what’s going on and what I should do. When I ignore them, things will go bad, as they predict. Naturally, they then say, “I told you so. You should’ve listened.”
So I’m vowing to them again, “Okay, I’m listening.”
Naturally, one snidely replied, “Sure.”
The voices are a lot like me.