The sun rose before me, a little before six AM. Gonna be hot again. 63 F now. Some say it’ll reach 86 F in Ashlandia. Others pronounce 90 will be the temp top. 97 F is in others’ forecasts. All three may actually be right, depending upon which part of the city you’re in. I believe we’ll see 91 in my locale. Hit 82 F yesterday.
Gorgeous out there right now. All green and blue. Mellow mountain breeze is sloping down into the open back doors. The cats come in, come by me for a welfare check and to see if I’m eating or doing anything of interest, and meowder back out.
Yardwork is in my future after the writing session, as the last rain cycle caused weeds to explode in height and density. I’ll cull the dandies a bit but we let them stay. Bees like ’em.
Terrible dream last night. Vivid and intense. Took me about an hour before slumber crawled back in me.
But the day’s song comes from a walk yesterday. Up from the wells of 1969 came “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” by the Bob Seger System. Found an interesting video of it being performed by a young and beardless Bob Seger. Never seen him without a beard. I always believed he was born with a beard. The set is fascinating as well. It’s an energetic rendition.
Stay pos and take Saturday like a happy pill. Coffee is tugging my leash so I’m going on. Here’s the beats as heard over fifty years ago. Cheers
56 degrees F at this moment. Expecting the mid to upper 80s before the sun’s Ashlandia sojourn ends. It’s Friday, My 12, 2023.
Today’s heat is a prelude to a week of it. What irritates about many of these weather changes is how it jumps into hot weather and collapses into chilly weather with little warning. Why can’t we hit the middle ground and stay there for a while.
I know, I whine a lot. Everyone complains about the weather but nobody does anything. I said it here first…
I’m feeling better in a psyche way today. Dropped some anxiety and stress. I naturally gravitate to being those things although I’m weirdly known for being calm in an emergency. Three things resolved that were affecting my stress and anxiety. Got my retired military ID — now known as a an Identification and Privilege Card — issued at last. Been trying for almost a year. Picture looks pretty good, too. Look like a sea captain in it.
Second, first annual physical since I passed 65 years old. Hell, first annual physical in a looonnnggg time. Nothing untoward discovered. As part of my general hypertension, I suffer white coat syndrome. Getting the appointment out of the way was a relief although they IMMEDIATELY scheduled one for next year, so I’ve got THAT to worry about.
Third, sadly but painfully true, is that the death watch for Uncle Bill is over. Reminders of immortality, sadness about changes, another milestone in growing older all seen and felt with one strike.
I was watching my boy, Papi, an aloof ginger floof, as he watched the street traffic yesterday. He can’t help but get into a position to see what is making that noise? What is coming? Then, as the noise-maker closes in — runner, biker, walker — with or without dog — street cleaner, he turns and flees to the porch’s safety, hides behind a post and leans around, continue to watch. If he sees me watching, he comes over to be let in, and then walks around the house demanded to be let outside. The back door is open this morning, letting him come and go.
Weird song The Neurons thrust into the morning mental music stream. From 1967, it’s called “Tin Soldier” by Small Faces (not to be confused with “One Tin Soldier”, which is a totally different song). The roots to hearing it today aren’t clear. Although I had disturbing dreams, I can’t pinpoint anything from them which would call the song out. My best guess is that the mid to late 1960s was time spent around Uncle Bill, so the The Neurons expanded the sphere, bringing this song in.
Stay pos, if you can. Can be difficult, I understand. I think a cuppa coffee is in order for me now. Let the pouring commence. Here’s Small Faces. See you on the flipside.
Well, the sky is blue and ripe with sunshine. It’s fine weather, even though Uncle Bill passed away at midnight last night. Heart failure. He was a good person and being related to him is an honor. Not much else I can but celebrate his life and go on.
It’s 62 F right now. 75 F is expected later today, 80 Friday, 90 — some say 97 — an Saturday, kicking off a week of temperatures dancing between highs in the upper 80s to mid 90s. Appears summer is crowding into May. This is May 11, 2023.
It’s also my older sister’s birthday. Happy b’day, sister! She’s two years older than me and about eight inches shorter, and I’m only 5’8″. She’s a grandma several times over and living the life in a suburb outside of Atlanta, Georgia.
Learning of Uncle Bill’s end of life encouraged The Neurons with a 1986 Phil Collins song, “Take Me Home”. I may not be alone in this, but I’d loved to be back in that time when I regularly saw Uncle Bill, and he was young, and I was younger, and both of had forever ahead of us. Death is natural and regular, but always stirs memories up from the well’s bottom and yearning for the times and places I most enjoyed.
On a lighter note, got my new military ID today. Yes, I’m retired, but the card ‘expired’ when I turned 65, something put in place to force retirees to sign up for Medicare, which becomes the primary healthcare for vets of a certain era. Getting the card is hard. Limited places to get it in Oregon. Local Medford guard unit provides walk-in service. Well, that’s easy, isn’t it? No. The onerous system complicates matters. People line up, waiting to get in, as he goes through the process of connecting, entering data, verifying info, registering fingerprints, taking the photo, and then finally printing out the new card and verifying that its chip works. Today was my ninth visit to get ‘er done. Tried too, when I was in PA last year, where they are by appointment only. No appointments were available at any of the three nearby sites. Morgan, the infantry man who mans the office, shared several horror stories about people’s efforts to get a new card. Congratulations to him, too, who is retiring after twenty, but staying on to do the same job as a civilian. He seems pretty pleased.
Have some coffee and stay pos. Enjoy your life and forge ahead as you can. Here’s the music. Cheers
Mom was always home, the location which held his heart. Though she moved several times since he left home when he was fifteen and ended up living with his father, just returned from military service in Germany.
Keeping up with Mom was a challenge. New locations, new husbands, boyfriends, new jobs. She went back to school, got her GED. It’d been her secret that she hadn’t graduated high school. Then, nursing school, and the nursing profession, which she loved. By then she was in her late forties. She finally gained the independence sought, and bought a home for herself.
Keeping up for many years was cards, letters, phone calls. He only heard from her on holidays and birthdays. He initiated all else. Then email became popular. Now it’s text messages. Through it all she was the same but changed.
We’re such individuals. Not just from one another but from what we were when we were younger.
I used to be aghast that someone didn’t like chocolate. Or ‘don’t care for sweets’. Dad is one of those.
I could understand why people didn’t like coffee, beer, or alcohol generally, between flavors and effects. Now I see, as I age, how my taste buds and preferences have morphed through my decades. I still enjoy chocolate, beer, coffee, etc., but things taste sweeter or saltier to me.
Life. Takes so long to learn and understand, and then things change.
Morning salutations. It’s Saturday, March 25, 2023. Tucker used a querulous old man filter on his morning meow, forcing me up earlier than wanted. You know how persistence a querulous old man can be? Tucker has learned it. Anyway, the blinds were pulled up and there it was, two inches of snow. Well, they’d warned us. Snow was still falling. At 33 F, it’s not the thick stuff, but a wet slush piling up. Piling up is too dramatic; it’s just edging up. Supposed to reach 44 today, the weather masters say. So snow will stop and rain will commence. The temp will crash back into the high twenties tonight, and snow will commence again.
Sunrise was at 7:05. I can’t swear to that, because, clouds and snow. It’s just one big white slouchy pillow up there, draped down over the mountains. Pretty yesterday after the snow because we had a dramatic scene to the northeast, blackening clouds plopped on top of unkempt white and gray clouds, crashing an the snowy mountains all the way down to the snowline, where it went solid green. That’s all gone today.
About this snow, though, it graciously doesn’t stay on the pavement and asphalt, so those are clear of snow but wet. So, we’re muttering abut the snow because this is spring, thanks, and, like white shoes, snow is supposed to have its season. But we’re are pleased that driving is not impacted…much. The snow adds to the bank and we’ll need that this summer. Probably. I’m guessing.
The cats saw the snow, felt the cold, ate, and announced, “Screw this,” and went back to sleep.
Shelters are open for the homeless but it’s not a clean scene. Hot meals are served twice a day for them but at another location as the shelters are basically churches and the library. Some homeless are camping in the parks. I’m fine with it in principle but locals around those areas complain about the smells that end up arising because of people using alleys and areas around the parks as latrines. That also makes it a health hazard.
The Neurons’ music choice came out of a memory track. The track began by generally walking and thinking. Somehow, Cream and “Badge” emerged from sleeping in the gray vaults to play in my head. After they played, I recalled that a female group had once come out with their version of “Badge”. The Neurons were sent to excavate the name. Eventually it came back, Fanny. I’d mentioned Fanny to several people through the years but nobody ever knew them. My mind questioned whether they existed in this reality or it was something I’d made up. Perhaps, gentle suggestions were made, I had the name wrong. All possible.
But with the net, I looked up Fanny this morning and confirmed they were real. Then I found some terrific videos someone had made of them. Time was spent listening to them, enjoying the sound. I played “Badge” but also several other videos, including, “Hey Bulldog”. I always enjoyed it, so here it is.
Already had coffee. Soon as I saw the snow, mind ordered it now, hot and black. Stay pos and take the day. Here’s Fanny – hope you enjoy them. Cheers
It’s interesting, like a school paper. Doesn’t tell me the day or my favorites, sunrise and sunset. Told me a news summary and the weather.
A number of things prompted my choice. I’ve been using GPT4 via Bing for about two weeks. Getting into dialogues with it is interesting. Meanwhile, Creativindie.com used GPT4 to write some science fiction. Here’s a sample.
Beneath the cathedral of indigo heavens, where constellations danced like divine jewels, a solitary figure traversed the twilight realm. The forest, an intricate tapestry of shadows and whispers, bore witness to his journey. His gait, a melody of steps whispered into the hallowed earth, carried him onward like a specter of dreams.
The air, heavy with the scent of ancient secrets and verdant life, caressed the wanderer’s face. Gossamer strands of otherworldly mist, entwined in the tresses of nocturnal blooms, played with the edges of his cloak. Above, the moon, a luminous pearl suspended amidst the cosmos, bathed the world in ethereal opalescence.
The wanderer’s eyes, twin oceans of liquid azure, were imbued with a tale of a time long forgotten, and his heart resonated with an unyielding determination. He bore the weight of an untold legacy upon his shoulders, a mantle woven from the threads of fate and chance. His destination shimmered like a mirage on the horizon, a promise, a whisper of hope as ephemeral as the morning dew.
End GPT4
Any thoughts?
Let the record establish that this is Friday, March 17, 2023. Sol spread sunny wealth across the winting land at 7:20 and twelves hours later, sunset takes place at 7:20. It’s an Ashlandia equinox. It’s St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t celebrate it as I once did. Not even wearing green…yet. I’ll don green fleece, I suppose.
Personally, in another sign of life and progress, my niece’s 38th birthday is today. She has three boys of her own now. It’s one of those holy-cow moments.
I have Harry Nilsson and “Jump Into the Fire” from 1971 in the morning mental music stream. This is because the drummer on the song, Jim Gordon, passed away this week, 77 years old. Suffering some issues, he’d murdered his mother and died in a medical and psychiatric prison.
I feel like a good day has begun. Stay pos. Coffee has been tested and approved for my consumption this morning. Of course, I’m self-regulated – inspector, tester, approver. Now strong checks and balances built into this system.
Light and shadows tangoed on the bedroom walls. The wind had come up and at 7:24 AM, the sun showed it. Working together, they had the trees dancing.
It’s Thursday, March 16, 2023. A Sunday pizza party is on for a few friends. One of them likes organizing this about every five to six months. Just a get-together to eat, chat, and see faces. Three couples, six faces.
It’s 42 degrees F at my Ashlandia place. Blue skies. Sunset will be at 7:16 this evening. Till then, the temperature will go up the numbers until finding 44 F.
Just finished reading a couple books — We Are Legion (We Are Bob), The Chalk Circle Man — and am starting The Thursday Murder Club and Full. Contacting contractors is in the to-do list for various house improvements and repairs, since it’s March and the weather should become acceptable for these things to be done, like painting the house and repairing a window. And isn’t it interesting that ‘contractor’ is one of those words that end in ‘-or’ instead of ‘er’?
The cats are out. They like the sunshine and warmer temps but dislike the wind. Neither are wind fans. I expect one to start beating on the door at any moment.
“Nowhere Man” by the Beatles (1965) is stuck in the morning mental music stream. I don’t know if The Neurons desposited them or some other agency. No clue as to the why it’s playing. I’ve used it as theme music before and wrote about it then so I’ll not re-state all that. Just seems to fit some mode today. Maybe I feel like I’m nine again on some level. I chose this video they took about doing the song and then perform it in a ‘live’ setting, comparing it to the notes ingrained in my head. I’ve always been intrigued by the differences between studio recordings and how the band play it live.
Some of the catalyst for “Nowhere Man” might be the text exchanges with Mom. I’m asking her about the inspiration for her children’s names and the story behind my own. Michael wasn’t first choice. Anyway, I’d known a few of those stories and was surprised that the story was different this time. Did I mis-remember or is she telling it differently? I go with the latter. Either way, it’s a little bummer that what I recall isn’t what I hear now, because one of us is changing their tale.
Here’s the music. Hope you enjoy it. I’m off to let the cats in and get coffee. Stay pos, and carpes Thursday. Cheers
White billows of clouds push and pull across the blue sky. Sunshine bullies the southern and eastern views. “Gorgeous,” the cats say.
I agree with them. This Friday, March 10, 2023, it’s 39 F outside but sunny, with a high of 50 expected. Showers for the next five days, the weather minions tell me with a wink. Highs about 50 F, low of 36. Ashlandia’s weather is sliding closer to its norm. The winds have settled into an infrequent light breeze, but they gave us a rainy tussle yesterday, shoving people around, fighting against car doors being shut, trying to rip hats and clothes off, and mangling umbrellas.
Today’s sun presence began at dawn, a little before 6:32 AM, and will continue for almost twelve hours. All that changes on Sunday. We’re springing ahead. Sunrise won’t be until 7:30 then, but we’ll have more shine on the day’s tail end. Of course, it means less sleep because if I get up at my usual time, it’ll be an hour later.
I have the song, “Magic”, by Pilot (1973) in my head. Dream stuff. In the dream, I was going through an almost empty city looking for magic. While it was a modern city, I wore dusty old white robes, bit torn, with sandals, and had been walking for a long time. At first, I didn’t know what I was looking for but then, in the dream, it came to me, I’m looking for magic. With that, I started the air for magic, following my nose, letting it lead me, and then looking. I came across others and spoke to them about it, and sometimes cars would drive by, but no one was helping me. I stayed on my own. Then, voila, walked around a corner. There was a aluminum briefcase against the wall. With some surprise, I knew it was mine. I thought I’d lost it years before. Opening it, I found magic.
Thinking about the dream later, I kept wondering what did I see in the briefcase that I knew it was magic? But, like the movie Pulp Fiction, I never saw the briefcase’s contents. Gold didn’t come out of my briefcase, though, and I never thought or said it was beautiful. Then, though, The Neurons came through with Pilo out of my childhood.
Stay pos. This is Friday. Pretty exciting, huh? Well, all kinds of approaches can be employed for Friday. Me, it’s Friday, time to write again, woo-hoo. That just might be my coffee shouting. I’ve had a cup already.
Windy is the weather word for today. Windy, as in lots of wind, and it’s gonna get intense. Not hurricane, cyclone, tornado, or typhoon level, no. But hold onto your hats. Or tie them on tight.
Today is Thursday, 3/9/2023. Temperature is 42. We lack snow, fog, and rain at the moment. We offer blue sky, white clouds, and sunshine on this Ashlandia morning. The sun was coming up at 6:33 AM, when Papi did his seal bark to demand exit number three. The window beating to come back in was at 7:05. Ashlandia’s sunset comes at 6:10. We’ll be up to 42 F by then.
Papi is back out now, sitting on the porch, glaring at the wind, very dismayed with the weather. He’ll be wanting back in soon, and then will rest so that he’s fresh for his nightly needs. He is off, victimized by the book club visitors last night. Papi is not one to socialize with people or animals. He’s a loner. When they arrived, he retreated to the master BR and sulked on the bed, listening for one of them attempting to sneak up on him. He’s knockin’ to get back in now. Excuse me.
Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be gone so long. Had to pay the floof tax and tell him how smart and handsome he is until he said, “Enough,” and dashed off. Those of you with floofs will understand.
Papi is a neat and clean cat, though. Not a fur out of place. Any out of place furs are immediately shed. It’s quite a system.
I dreamed I was trying to remember who sang “Baby Blue”, a song which came out in 1971. As part of my dream effort, I kept watching a black and white static-filled TV screen while older me shouted at younger me, “Bad Finger. It’s Bad Finger.” Younger me would not listen, but kept muttering, “Bad Company?” Arrgh.
It’s a walking song in the morning mental music stream today. Out yesterday, walking today. Winting is back and the sun and cold wind medley was enhanced by things trying to figure out if they should bloom now. All very pleasant, however. Reminded me of youthful moments. The Neurons tossed a Grand Funk song, “I’m Your Captain (Closer to Home)” from 1970 into the mix. It’s a song I often recalled when walking or driving and getting close to home. I often traveled in my youth, and then again in the military, and then again in marketing.
That’s enough of that, I’m sure. Stay pos. Treat Thursday like a golden opportunity and do your thang. Peace out.
Michael Seidel, writer 