Early morning’s bruised sky promised rain in Ashlandia. Within an hour, that threat evaporated. With sunshine, we were still buried in the 60s F. At that point we were packing the car. Papi brought his floof skills to the scene, silently inspecting every movement and bag. The floofsitter arrived on scheduled at 10 AM. Watching her come in the house, Papi watched her from the living room’s far end. After we exchanged greetings, she said with happiness, “There he is. There’s Papi.” Papi stood, stretched, and left the house. We left a few minutes later.
About four hours of driving had us at last on the Oregon coast, cruising into Florence in the mid-afternoon. Traffic was light although an aggro driver had us exchanging commentary and watching this tailgating driver diving in and out, cutting people off to get one vehicle ahead in a parade of vehicles. Stupid stacked on stupid. Once to Florence, we enjoyed hot sunshine and warm, cloudy day.
Other than discussions about Trump meeting Putin and more signs that the economy was heading downhill with increasing speed, it was a news free day. Now we sit in our room, watching the tide come in, waiting for sunset. What time will sunset be? One source pegs it at 8:02 while another says 8:18 and a third declares sunset will be at 8:30, all in PM. They do agree that high tide is coming in at 8:02 PM. We sit and watch and wait, me with a beer in hand.
Today song comes from discussing the tide time. Once The Neurons heard me think ‘tide’, they summoned Blondie’s 1980 new-wave cover of “The Tide Is High” to the mental music stream. I’m not familiar with the original offering.
Beer has breached my body and I’m turning to the mellow side. May the mellowness find and hold us all. Cheers
BFF (floofinition) – Shorthand for ‘best floof friend’ or alternatively, ‘best fur friend’. Origins: Internet circa 1999.
In Use: “Pogo and Scheckter, aka the infamous OrangeBoiz, were not just brothers but BFFs, hunting, sleeping, eating, and playing together through all cycles of day and night and all seasons of weather.”
In Use: “It’s not uncommon for a human to become a BFF. That was certainly the case with Merlin, who cared not a paw for other animals, but adored his BFF, Shirl, shadowing her in all endeavors.”
Cool rain commences. It’s Satyrda, August 18, 2025. 72 F, we’re two degrees short of our expected high.
Papi loves this weather. The back door is open and the ginger floof makes it his territory. Lounging there, he can monitor us and the outside, grooming after breakfast.
We’re on final vacay prep. I take my ‘puter, so I’ll post but less often and more inconsistently. We’re there mainly for the ocean’s influence. That’d be the Pacific. Our rental place is a few hundred walkable yards from where the ocean beats the rocks and sprays mist the air. The floofsitter will be staying in our house, as her place has some repairs going on. She and Papi get along quite well. I trust the situation in her hands.
I see that Trump hit the trifecta with wholesale vegetable prices in July. Stories I’ve read say the veggie prices jumped over 39 percent.
What led to this? Well, a trio of issues, mainly. One, unpredictable weather, you know, like the increasingly erratic weather caused by climate change, which Trump claims is fake news because he and his supporters are either too dense to understand it, or they view it as a siphon on profits, and without money, life has little meaning for ’em, outside of hatred.
The second cause for the wholesale price jump was cited as labor shortages. That was predicted loudly and continually by anyone with a brain larger than a pea who has paid attention what goes on in the U.S. These labor shortages are directly attributed to Trump’s ICE disappearance policies and heavy-handed gestapo strategy.
The final nail in the almost 40 percent price increase was Trump’s tariffs. Again, very predictable except to the mango clown waddling around the Offal Office and his simpering minions.
Now, on the right, they like to claim that the labor shortage isn’t that bad. That ‘Murican will take over those migrant jobs. They love fables like that. They also bulk up their reasoning with claims that machinery now does most of the vegetable harvesting. While true that machines are used in many circumstances, hand-picking is needed for anything that’s going farm to table. Machines are used for harvesting veggies and fruits destined for canning and animal feed.
This news came from the BLS. Trump just fired that agency’s leader after the downward revision of labor for the previous two months, information which showed that the economy is going down the toilet. Trump hates info like that, so someone over at BLS is gonna get their head handed to them.
The bad economic news also comes on the heels of the Putin and Trump talks about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Trump’s sucking up and lack of results make him look weak, and Putin ably handled him. Net result: Trump won nothing but praise from Putin for being a victim. Trump loves believing he’s a victim, one of the most unfairly treated people in the world, so he ate that shit up with a large spoon.
Shame, though. All this bad press has diminished the focus on the Epstein Files, and how deep Trump was in with Epstein. His lack of efforts to release the files and irritation whenever Epstein gets mentioned, coupled with his delicate handling of the felon named Maxwell, leads many to think that Trump is bigly mentioned in that file, and not in good ways.
Donald Trump with his buddy, the late convicted sex offender, Jeffrey Epstein.
Today’s music is brought to you by my sister. She mentioned yellow on a social media platform, sharing a post asking, “Who is your yellow?” A yellow is a person who brings joy into your life without trying. When I read that, The Neurons pumped up “Yellow” by Coldplay in the morning mental music stream. So here we are.
Coffee is making itself at home among my Neurons. Getting ready to pounce on another day. Hope peace and grace carry you on to the best days you can live. Cheers
Floofviousness(floofinition) – A quality of a clever animal who is both dishonest and tricks people and other animals while remaining successful and respected. Origins: Boston, MA, 1840.
In Use: “Quinn’s floofviousness is an earmark of his distinctive personality, for none are as adept at sneaking up, stealing food, getting away with it even when caught, by flashing wide, bright jade eyes at his accusers.”
In Use: “Rascal’s floofviousness earned him his nom de floof when he was a puppy discovered stealing socks, shoes, and underwear, stashing it under the bed for future uses which only he could imagine.”
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.
Jeffrey Epstein with Donald Trump
For the record, my web page scramble this morning has a side serving of a USA Today story:
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
Greetings to all you stars from bucolic Ashlandia, the gem of southern Oregon. It’s Wenzda, August 13, 2025. We cooled a little last night after 102 F plugged the thermometer in the late afternoon. It was a late cooling, as midnight still saw us hugging the 80s. Today’s temperature has dropped into the friendlier realm of 96 F and tonight’s low will splash into the low 60s. Air is clear, blue, no skunks bothered us last night, and we continue a good string of not being pestered by flooding, wildfires, or smoke, knock wood.
Man, I slept well but it was a night of wild dreams. Gonna think about them for a while.
Today’s song is dedicated to Papi. As I star-gazed and soaked up cool night air, Papi startled me by slipping up from behind to brush against my calf. My body shouted, “Holy shit, something’s got me,” before saner Neurons said, “Hey, Papi.” He didn’t stay long, floating off through the moonlight into the shadows. The Neurons honored the moment by channeling Bob Seger and the Bob Seger System into the morning mental music stream with “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Cat”, I mean, “Ramblin Gamblin Man” from way back in my mid-teen years. It’s simple, basic rock and roll, folks.
After reading the news, I’m eschewing comments for now. Weather the storm for the moment, keep the rage alive and the powder dry, you know? Trump’s crash is coming. How far he takes us all will be interesting. He lies about so much, as do his stand-ins, and the lies are so easily proven. Now they’re trying hard to hide facts so they can build pillow forts and play make believe. It sucks that while they drool over fantasies, real world problems are being ignored, and they’re creating more, making life miserable for millions.
Coffee has tuned my mind and soul again. Time to take the body out for a spin. Hope peace and grace walk with you wherever you are today. Cheers
Are you ready for another one? Today is Twosda, August 12, 2025. Today’s expected to be cooler today than yesterday. 101 F will be the high, up 28 degrees from our current residence of 73 F. Skies so blue arc over the hot land as a growling sun lifts over the horizon and bears down on us.
I read of a shooting in Austin, Texas. A person shoot and killed three in a Target store. Surely Trump is sending Federal troops to Austin, and maybe even all Target stores. After all, he deployed troops to take over D.C.’s police force over a mugging.
Trump probably wants to send troops to Arkansas, too, where a couple were murdered while hiking. Little Rock, Arkansas, has had a sharp increase in homicides this year.
Yeah, but we know that Trump’s motives when sending troops to any city isn’t about law and order. He proved that when he encouraged rioters to descend on the U.S. capitol on that infamous day, Jan 6. Trump did nothing while his beautiful supporters broke into government buildings, shit on Federal property, damaged it, and assaulted police. Then he pardoned his beautiful thugs, which should have marked ‘false’ all claims to him being a law and order dude. That, plus his energetic pursuit of disappearing people without due process, establishing a DOJ in the process that actively avoids judge’s valid and legal order, shows he’s far removed from being interested in law and order. My cat is more law and order than PINO Trump. That’s why he sent troops to a blue city enjoying a 30-year low in violent crime, over a mugging.
No, Trump’s troops to D.C., just as his troops to LA, are all about exercising strong arm tactics. This is what dictators and wannabe dictators do. And TACO is a wannabe dictator. He’s said that over and over in actions which shouted his intentions. Such people ignore the law, decreeing themselves to be the law. That’s just another reason why the Offal Office mango needs to be impeached and fired.
Today’s music was suggested by The Neurons after reading about Bobby Whitlock’s death. Whitlock, a musician with Delaney & Bonnie and Friends, left that group, along with a few other of the band’s musician. Hearing that, Clapton approached them to form a group together. Thus came to the world Derek and the Dominos. Out of that union, coupled with friendship with an Allman brother, came a song which always entrances me: “Layla”. So here we go.
Coffee has assumed the position. Time to go rock the world. Hope that your day has peace and grace. Cheers
Hey, jewels and gems, it’s Munda, August 11, 2025. Today features clear skies and heat. Didn’t cool much last night after we pegged 104 F at my house. Only dropped to 71 in the nocturnal hours. Now it’s in the upper 70s and rushing toward 103 F. Fire warnings abound.
While not too cool, the moon was full and bright. Papi and I enjoyed the moment together. Only sound heard were crickets and the rush of machinery up the asphalt river called I-5, several miles away.
Reading today’s headlines, I’m furious with Trump and the GOP. Ignoring laws and truth, that gold-plated Offal Office buffoon ordered troops into D.C. to restore law and order, a law and order that had no problem, except one of his DOGE boy toys was victimized by crime. It’s brought on a full-throated whole-body GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR out of me. Can’t imagine this going over well with anyone but the Project 2025 Christian white supremacy gang and the most deeply immersed of the MAGAts. For me, it shows Trump’s deep desperation to play king and distract from the growing pile of things going wrong and matters worsening in the United States. He’s also trying so damn hard to keep his MAGAts and everyone else from thinking about him and his relationship with Epstein and the many crimes which may be exposed when that file is released.
Today’s music is credited to thinking about Trump. Precisely: how Jeffrey Epstein introduced Trump to his third wife at one of Epstein’s debauched affairs, the ones with the details in the Epstein File.
Trump partying with sex offenders Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell and his third wife, Ivanka.
Donald Trump, with his new girlfriend and future third wife, and several convicted sex offenders.
As I was thinking about that meeting, Der Neurons rewarded those thoughts with an Eddie Money beat as “Shakin'” from 1982 opened into the morning mental music stream.
She was shakin’ (oh-oh-oh-oh) Snappin’ her fingers (oh-oh-oh-oh) She was movin’ round and round (oh-oh-oh-oh) That girl was shakin’ (oh-oh-oh-oh)
So, this Mundaz theme song is owed to those BFFs, Donald Trump and the late Jeffrey Epstein.
Had some coffee. Off to deliver Food & Friends. Hope your day is awash in peace and grace. Cheers
Mar-A-Floofgo(floofinition) – Literally, ‘sea of floofs’, a mythical place among housefloofs where everything can be scratched, destroyed, or knocked over, and be magically repaired overnight; where treats fall from the skies like rain and animals can eat as much as they want; where cans are always being opened, bacon, steak, cheese, and chicken, are always being served, where food and water bowls are never empty, and your favorite person is always there to play or cuddle. Origins: “The Live Floof Scrolls”, a set of hundreds of scrolls of ancient floof prophecies and histories, recovered between 1946 and 1956 from Floofrum Cave, and since partially translated.
In Use: “Many people see their pet floofs moving in their sleep, limbs twitching, eyes flickering, and think that they’re ‘chasing a rabbit’ but other floofs know that the animals are often visting Mar-A-Floofgo through the floof portal.” — excerpt from “Through the Floof Portal”, 1871.
Ready or not, here it is. Sunda, August 10, 2025 has arrived in Ashlandia without much fanfare. It’s brining the heat, though. While it’s 83 F here now and feels like 91 — or wait. My system says it’s 71 F. Clark’s system stakes it as 76 F. So, while it’s somewhere between 71 F and 83 F now, it’ll reach between 100 and 103 F, depending on who you believe. A few miles up the road by SUV in Medford, they’re looking at 108 to 110 F.
Last night was starry, moonlit gorgeous. Papi and I were out there observing the night. Then along came a skunk. I never saw nor heard the skunk. It didn’t directly bomb us, but its carpet bombing wove over us and chased me back into the house. All the doors and windows were closed to save us from the smell but that meant we couldn’t receive cool air to store for the day. Wasn’t until after five AM until that smell was gone enough for cooling services to be resumed. Despite all that, I slept fantastic, enjoying many uplifting, optimistic dreams.
My wife and I were laughing at a Trump Regime press statement. The headline and first paragraph tells the story: FDA regulator reinstalled less than two weeks after White House ouster.
A top Food and Drug Administration official is getting his job back, a spokesman for health agencies said Saturday, less than two weeks after he was ousted at the direction of the White House.
Vinay Prasad will return as the top regulator overseeing vaccines and complex treatments for difficult diseases, a position he lost following a right-wing pressure campaign.
Then comes a summary of the HHS press statement.
“At the FDA’s request, Dr. Vinay Prasad is resuming leadership of the Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research,” said Department of Health and Human Services spokesperson Andrew Nixon in a statement. “Neither the White House nor HHS will allow the fake news media to distract from the critical work the FDA is carrying out under the Trump administration.”
Don’t they sound like a school child? Like they’re blaming the media for something wholly of their own creation. Like it’s the ‘fake news media’, a favorite fictional monster under the bed for them, that had this guy fired and reinstated.
Today’s music was Papi-inspired. As I went through the morning feeding rituals, thinking about what I do to make and keep the ginger floof happy, Der Neurons fired up The Smithereens with “A Girl Like You” from 1989. As it played, I changed ‘girl’ to ‘cat’. “I’ll say anything you want to hear, I’ll see everything through, I’ll do anything I have to do, just to win the love of a cat like you.” Papi was moved. I could tell.
BTW, The Smithereens are named after the expression, “I’ll blow you to smithereens,” a phrase familiar to anyone who watched Yosemite Sam on weekend cartoons in the U.S. You don’t hear many use that word but I can imagine Donald J warning another country, “You do what I want or I’ll blow you to smithereens.” He is that cartoonish.
In another BTW, the only other time that this song was my theme song, it was also Papi inspired. Here’s what I wrote back in 2020.
Yeah, do that a lot, sing to the cats. I was singing “A Cat Like You,” which is based on the Smithereens’ 1989 song, “A Girl Like You”.
I’d been talking to the ginger blade, which prompted the singing. I was telling him at the time, “You’re a unique cat.” Which he is, standoffish and sweet, wanting to be closer, unsure how to do it, galloping everywhere with a fanfare of trumpets (or some it seems from his posture).
Then, though, I thought, they’ve all been unique. Some were unique in ways that made you laugh, others had unique properties that made them lovable and sweet, and there were a few with exasperating uniqueness, tetchy and frustrating. A few packaged it all.
So, to the cats, and cats like them, always unique.
Coffee is in me. Ready to rock another day. I hope peace and grace finds it way to you today and everyday. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 