Sunshine graces the valley again. 52 F, blues skies, spring. High in the upper 70s projected for our afternoon.
Yardwork and house chores are in my future. Looking forward to being out there and getting things done.
War continues in Iran. The quiet news cycle is about Trump thinking about more cabinet replacements as the war flounders in Iran. Two aircraft were shot down. We’re not sure why the A10 went down — yet — but the F15E Strike Eagle was shot down. Speculation swirls about what type of system took down the Eagle.
Personnelente had a comment on it in “The Price of Folly”: “Iran has shot down several US aircraft: at a minimum an A-10, and two F-15s. Russia is supplying advanced anti aircraft weapons to Iran even as Cadet Bone Spurs lowers sanctions on Russia and backs off helping Ukraine.”
Yes, Trump has baffled us by lowering sanctions on Russia, who supplies Iran with military equipment and advice, along with intelligence support. You gotta wonder…
Papi inspired The Neurons for today’s morning mental music stream. He’d come in from the sunshine and approached for…something. Papi isn’t really a communicator. But when I mentioned treats, he came to rest with an expectant gaze. As I got his treat, I sang out, “Gimme gimme good eating,” playing on a rock song from my youth. That’s Crazy Elephant with “Gimme Gimme Good Lovin'” from 1969.
Hope your day is full of good things for you. My future sees coffee.
33 F when I got up but sunshine was clearing the mountains and trees, lighting up cloudless blue sky. Today’s high will be 71.
With no news from home about Mom, I turned to the net for updates on the world. The US economy added 178k jobs in March. It surprised economists, and it surprised me. Economists warned that the war in Iran could cause problems, because it’s driving up costs throughout the supply chain.
The economic is taking another hit from a sharp rise in fertilizer prices, affecting farmers which were already struggling with tariffs, broken trade agreements, and weather issues. Those challenges could result in lower yields and higher food prices at the store.
Not satisfied with high gas, diesel, and oil prices, Donald Trump declared tariffs on prescriptions drugs. Not immediately effective, they come with an opportunity for companies to agree to build facilities in the US to avoid the tariffs.
Today’s song comes from Papi and I stepping out onto the back patio. The gingerboy was already out there, grooming and sunning. His satisfied demeanor invited me to join him. I was still thinking about my dreams at that point. As I lifted my face up to the sun, the opening lyrics of “Kashmir” entered the morning mental music stream: “Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face.”
Here’s to you and a hope that peace and grace find and carries you, today and every day.
Spring has a solid hold on our stretch of valley. 59 F and sunny, we’re heading to the upper 60s today. Good weather if you’re a feline looking for a sunny place to nap…
I will do more yard work. I did all of my tasks yesterday, including pulling weeds. But the weeds have had a very successful year. If I could sell them, I’d be a thousandaire.
I had to again break off part of this post to create a Trump-centric post. I think Trump voters are addicted to hate, and Trump himself addicted to power. He’ll do anything to elevate himself. Lies, fake information, bragging are not beyond him. Nor is AI generated content showing him to be superhero strong, smart, and healthy. To those of us outside of his sphere, we see these things and shake our head, muttering, “What the fuck?” It’s amazing how many of his base can’t see the truth; it’s more amazing to see how many are willing to lie and just go along with Trump. It’s frankly sickening to see how low they’re willing to stoop to pretend things are going great with Trump in office.
Nothing new on Mom nor my health. Just awaiting developments on these fronts.
I ended up with The Neurons playing “Addicted to Love” in the morning mental music stream. It arose from thoughts that Trump is addicted to hate, and his base are addicted to him. I always enjoy the Night of the Proms series so I was pleased to find this video to present.
Hope your life finds you moving forward, healthy, happy, and safe.
Quixoatic(floofinition) – Animal behavior marked by lofty ambitions which cause chaos. Origins: First seen in print in the novel “Floof Quixotic”, 1855.
In Use: “Dandy’s nights were quixoatic pursuits of bugs, spiders, and things which she only saw — awakening her people with a symphony of as pots meeting the floor.”
Our temperature is 51 F. Sunshine broadly spreads across the valley as thin gray fog recedes. Today’s high might be in the low fifties, we’re told.
Papi doesn’t care about temperatures. That sunshine provides a warm bathing space and he uses his tongue like he hasn’t washed in weeks.
As I sipped coffee and read the news, I thought about the illusions that Trump and his supporters and enablers entertain. That only whites matter, that history should be rewritten to reject anyone who was not a white, Christian heterosexual. It’s so narrow and foolish; again, I’m reminding that we’re only as strong as the weakest among us, only as smart as the least intelligent in our ranks, only as healthy and wealthy as the sickest and poorest.
Trump initially sold those ideas to supporters but has abandoned them. He ran on a promise of lowering prices, convincing many that he would do so on day one of his second term, improving the economy. Now, asked about rising gas prices after his attack on Iran and its impact on gas prices, Trump shrugs it off.
“I don’t have any concern about it. They’ll drop very rapidly when this is over, and if they rise, they rise, but this is far more important than having gasoline prices go up a little bit.”
I don’t trust Trump’s analysis or promises. Trump has littered the political landscape with broken promises: he would deliver a new healthcare plan in two weeks. He would never golf because he would be too busy working. Mexico would pay for the wall. There would be no new wars. Prices would come down on day one. He would end Russia’s war on Ukraine on day 1. Those are just the ones I easily remember.
Trump also claimed that last year’s attacks on Iran’s nuclear facilities had destroyed them. Now he says the war is needed to destroy them.
While thinking about Trump’s positions and policies, The Neurons filled the morning mental music stream with “Fooling Yourself” by Styx. I last played this on my blog when COVID-19 was raging in the United States.
Back then, I quoted and commented on these statements and beliefs made by a MAGAt.
No worse than the flu and already going away. No, the greatest threat to America comes from “libtards” and their willingness to give everything away (he believes “Obama destroyed America and the economy”). Further, Trump’s recent sickness was really just a cover for him to rise up and finally vanquish the Dems and “libtards”.
Again, I think Trump supporters are fooling themselves. Trump is fooling himself.
“And there’s nothing less expensive than peace. You know, when you go to wars, it costs you 100 times what it costs to make peace.”
Nine days later, Trump launched a war that’s costing over $60,000,000 a day for the United States. This doesn’t address the cost of the other nations, such as Iran, the center of the destruction. Nor does it address the cost of lives lost, disrupted, and destroyed, regardless of the nationality, age, or religion.
The video I chose joins the song’s writer, Tommy Shaw of Styx, performing it with the Cleveland-based Contemporary Youth Orchestra. I hope you watch, listen, and enjoy.
May your day find you warm, safe, and blessed with love and good fortune.
We’re winding through winter’s last days toward spring in Ashland. History provides us reminders that Ashland often experiences late winter to mid-spring snowstorms. I’d like more snow in the area, especially in the Cascades where our snowbank resides.
Today, it’s overcast with uncertain, flexing sunshine. 48 F, it feels neither warm nor cold, and our high is arcing toward just 50.
My phone has developed problems with receiving text messages all of a sudden. I’ve added fixing that to my todo list. I did get some updates from my siblings about Mom before the system went tango unform on me.
Mom is reverting to the behavior displayed in January. I drift toward remembering who she was and the complex relationships my sisters and I have with her. I contrast what’s she’s enduring with who she was, what and who she was trying to be, and where she arrived as a person. Much of it now is beyond her control. Doesn’t stop my sisters from getting angry about it. But we saw this pattern emerging. There was little we could do, which we learned with time, because we tried to do things to change the course.
I smile at some things, like her potato salad. My wife insists nobody makes potato salad like Mom. My wife tried but when she asked for a recipe, Mom was more about the ingredients and less about the measurements. One thing I learned from helping her make it sometimes was that Mom depended on tasting it and how it looked — color, texture. That’s hard to translate through recipes.
I was just settling into checking on prices, the war that Republicans don’t want to call a war, and other matters when breaking news arrived.
I think at first, “about time”. Her arrogance and attitude doesn’t fit with what I look for in public servants. I temper that, though, with the understanding that she was carrying out Trump and Miller’s policies, and generally working as a functionary for Project 2025. It’ll be interesting to see how much this change will actually manifest as change.
On the heels of that thinking, I scoff, but of course Trump has replaced Noem. She’s become a lightning rod for negative impressions about Trump. With his popularity falling, he made her his scapegoat.
Today’s music is “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones. When The Neurons first settled it into my morning mental music stream, I sang it as “Wild Kitties” for Papi’s entertainment. He did not seem entertained.
I’m not sure why the song is playing in me. I can see how its themes and melody is about yearning for another time, for a different outcome, even for hope. I suppose that’s where I reside now — wishing for other things than what now exists. It also came out in 1971, when I was fifteen, so I suppose remembering the song stirs some nostalgia for being back there — young, with Mom, facing a bright future.
I’ll close with best wishes for you and us to stay safe, be healthy and find new ways toward a peaceful, prosperous, and inclusive future.
I read an article in a newspaper, something about prizes being given away, and decided that would be a good idea for my group of friends. I don’t recall prize details but I thought they were practical household goods — but expensive — which some of my friends could use. So I pulled my local friends together and pushed the idea on them, persuading them, “Let’s do this.”
We then got on the phone to call two other couples. We used to live close to each other but they’d moved away. I knew the wives better than their husbands, as I’d known the women first, so I kept forgetting the men’s names when I was on the phone with them.
We ended up at one of the couple’s house. It was a small three-bedroom, two baths California townhouse. Not shabby but cluttered. They were home but the husband wasn’t coming out; I sensed our ‘invasion’ irritated him and felt sort of sad that he lived in a small, cluttered place.
There was a device we were supposed to use in conjunction with this scheme, although the scheme was to call people up or knock on their doors and try to sign them up. The little rectangular device had come apart, so I was trying to fix it. Mostly metal, with a wind-up motor and gears, it also had some small red and yellow pieces, and a body that clipped on it. I continued trying to fix that while talking to others and laughing.
After a long period of aimless conversations, everyone agreed with my idea. One of the guys, a younger Mexican-native American who I worked with before, came to me and told me my assignment was to go sign up three new customers. I declined, explaining, “I’m not a salesperson. My role is to organize and oversee.”
He accepted that but seemed glum. I finished fixing the little device and put it together, telling him, “Look, I fixed it.” I felt very proud of that, vindicated because ‘I knew I could do it’.
I then asked him what the matter because his energy seemed low, then guessed that he was facing discrimination from his boss. He confirmed that, adding, “It’s others, too.” We spoke about that a little bit more.
Another friend came in to tell me my wife was missing. She said she’d gone to bed but she wasn’t in her bed. I went and checked on her; she was in bed. I told her that others checked on her, but she wasn’t there and asked where she’d been. Crossly, she replied, “I had to go to the bathroom.”
I went back out and told my friends about the exchange, then I again went looking for my wife. This time, I went outside and up the street. We were in a suburban neighborhood. I found her sitting on a lawn chair on someone’s walk to their front door. Sprinkler systems were on, watering large, lush green front yards.
My wife was younger and laughing, though she was alone. She pointed out this kitten. Tail straight up, it was an odd tarnished gold color and was prancing around. My wife said that it’s a stray but she was very fond of the cat and had been watching it for a while.
Michael Seidel, writer 