Mom Updates

I sent Mom a food package. It’s not stuff I make. Let’s not be rude. I’ve ordered from Omaha Steaks, as once before. She lost power for days in May’s end, thanks to a windsorm. Mom always kept their box freezer and two refrigerators stocked enough to supply exploring parties coming by who need replenishing. With the power gone, so are her provisions. So I sent a small package of prepared food.

She and her boyfriend are often oblivious about what’s going on directly outside of the house. One of the standard operating rules has become, if you send a package, let Mom know when it’s delivered so someone will go out and bring it in.

Her package arrived today. I notified her via a text. I received no response back and haven’t had responses to any of the last three texts. I reach out to my sisters. Mom lives in Penn Hills, just outside of Pittsburgh, PA. The sisters live within twenty minutes of her. I explain my side and ask for a Momrep. Like me, none have heard from her. Youngest sister reaches out.

Mom responds: “I haven’t been out of bed today. I don’t feel well and I have my legs hurt so bad when I try to move. Frank can’t tae care of me. He gets too dizzy. I need dry diapers right now so it’s terrible.”

I read this and grit my teeth. Mom is 89. Frank, her live-in boyfriend, is 95. We’ve been trying to get them into assisted living for years. They won’t go. Nor will they accept assistance like nurses and caregivers. Now it’s a mess and another crises. The two of them are now averaging three crises a year. This is just June and this is already the third one fo 2025.

One sister heads over there. She reports, “Mom is on the edge of her bed getting a pad made up in her brief. Her gown is wet. She’s changing it now.”

We’re on a group text. Questions are raised and answered. “Yes, she’s eaten today but didn’t take any pain pills until now. I’m cleaning her up and having her taken to the hospital.”

We’re all relieved to hear that. They can take care of her in the hospital. We’ll sleep a little easier but it’s just one more moment in a wearying, debilitating series.

Getting old isn’t fun. Taking care of someone getting old isn’t either. Especially when you’re far away and there’s not much you can do.

Saturda’s Theme Music

Welcome to No Kings Saturda, June 14, 2025. It feels like the weather dieties summoned Autumn in Ashlandia. Sunny, it’s now up to 55 F. High today should be 79 F. See? Autumn numbers.

After heavy discussions last night, my wife and I are not attending the protests. This is about our health, unfortunately. Shit happens. For me, it’s a booming throbbing headache that began last night and seems ready to stake a homestead and stay longer.

Speaking of health, Dad is in the hospital in San Antonio with heart and kidney failure. I spoke to him and he said that he’s ‘not concerned’. Dad is never concerned, though. His wife told me she is very concerned. Dad said, “She’s always very concerned.” Nothing will be done for him this weekend and he’ll remain hospitalized. They are removing fluids and monitoring him. They’re meeting Monday afternoon at 2 PM to discuss next steps.

I haven’t heard much from Mom and my sisters this week. Is this one of those ‘no news is good news’ scenarios? They found a lump in her boyfriend’s lung under his left arm but aren’t doing anything about it as he’s 95.

Papi the butter butt is enjoying the faux fall. His energy level is the envy of the household. In and out, breaking into gallops, eating and asking for treats, coming by for some attention and affection, he’s a marvel of healthy energy.

All that aside, my mood is layered with concern for the nation and the world. Watching and reading to see what happens next. Flooding in San Antonio. Wildfires in Canada.

Read about the fake cop shooting and killing a Democratic lawmaker and their husband and injuring another Democrat lawmaker and spouse in Minnesota. Sickening. We don’t know the killer’s identity or motivation but my mind is slick with suspicions and suppositions. The man who shouted, “Fight, fight, fight,” last year, who activated the National Guard against peaceful protestors, who pardoned J6 insurrectionists who killed and injured police officers, who vowed, “If you spit, we hit,” unironically declared, “Such horrific violence will not be tolerated in the United States of America.” His words remain so empty.

National Guard are being called out ‘just in case’ as protests are planned around the country. Some are anti-ICE and anti-immigration policy protests but many more are long-planned No Kings demonstrations to protest Trump’s arrogant attitude. Our servant of the people contemptuously dismisses the people, the laws, the courts, and the Constitution. One of his proxies, Puppy Killer Noem, head of ‘Homeland Security’, displayed her contempt for the people (again) and a servant of the people as her personal security removed him from ‘her’ press conference.

Noem lied about what happened. Naturally the White House did as well. But video and witnesses showed the truth. I can’t reflect that this is how they lie and deny when it’s all out in the open; just think how much they lie about what’s going on in the shadows.

Beyond our borders, Ukraine and Russia’s war rages, despite Trump’s campaign insistence that he’d quickly have a cease fire in place. Russia has claimed 1,000,000 of their soldiers have been killed in Ukraine. I’m mourning that senseless waste of life but remained infuriated that Putin started that war for no reasons beyond greed, power, and ego.

Meanwhile, Israel launched a ‘pre-emptive’ strike against Iran. Iran retaliated and will probably try to do more. Fires have broken out at the South Pars gas field in Iran’s southern Bushehr province after Israel’s attack, which won’t do anyone any good. Trump quickly cheered the Israeli attacks after urging them to show restraint days before

How ’bout some Justin Timberlake today? The Neurons have ordered up “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” for the morning mental music stream. Good beat, poppy, happy lyrics. Just let it flow. Sing and dance. Relax. Just for a few minutes.

Coffee has been sucked down. Time to try to do something.

And happy Flag Day. Cheers

Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I had two dental appointments yesterday. The first was scheduled for 10:00 AM in Ashland. A second required me in Medford, up Interstate 5, at 2:10 PM.

The first dentist is about a mile from my house. A road closure caused some initial issues. They’d closed Tolman, my usual route, to re-oil the chipseal. Like, thanks for the notice, city! It’s something we’ve consistently encountered in Ashlandia in recent years: they close roads for work with little warning and just expect you to find your own work-around.

I disliked that start. This appointment was for a new bridge. The one installed back in ’07 — yes, this century, smart ass — had finally given up the clue. I sneezed it out one day last fall, chipping it. I was recovering from ankle surgery and decided I’d deal with one issue at a time. Then, finding a dentist, making appointments, and here I was, having it done in June.

Went pretty well except the AI on their bridge design software decided to take some time off. The bridge was scheduled to be done by 12 PM. I left the chair at 11:15, went home, and came back at noon only to be told about the issues. It’d be at least another 35 minutes. I left for home again. Each time that I went home, BTW, I’d go in and show my wife my incomplete work and ask, “What do you think of my new smile?” Returning at 1 PM, the bridge was ready. Fifteen minutes later and $3900, it was done. On to Medford for my oral surgery consultation.

I arrived at my Medford appointment at 1:45; they saw me at 2:30. “Sorry for the wait.” Yeah, thanks, I had nothing else to do! I’d spent the time reading “The Sentence” by Louise Erdrich. Once in the chair, I went through the usual medical history stuff and had the 360 digital scan of my mouth done. I was there to plan to have oral surgery to install three implants.

One implant was for an occlusion above it. They felt the tooth needed to be extracted and replaced. I agreed. The other two teeth had left on their own last November and December. They were side by side on the upper right side of my smile.

That plan went a little awry. “You have an abscess up here,” Mike Doherty told me. He was the grinning, energetic guy who was going to do this part of my dental work. “It’s 8 millimeters wide. Something of that size, we recommend a biopsy.”

Of course I’ll have the biopsy done. Gotta be safe about these things.

“Also,” Mike said, “because of the abscess’s size and location, we’ll need to do a bone graft first. Once it’s healed, in four to six months, we’ll do the implant for that tooth. In the meantime, it’ll be an empty space, just as it is now. But we can go ahead and do the other two now.”

So, okay. It’s scheduled for week from tomorrow. The process was quoted at $7,000. Which was depressing. The first car I bought was a 1968 Chevy Camaro with a 328 V-8. Paid $1995 for it in 1975.

Wish I had that car now.

Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

First up, PINO TACO is poisoning Americans, followed by American Resistance.

It’s not enough that the TACO Regime is encouraging people to avoid vaccinations, which is helping measles stage a deadly return. Now the inept and ignorant TACO Regime is POISONING OUR FOOD SUPPLY!!! Yes, deadly tomatoes are out there! IT’S ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMATOES!!!

FDA alerts 14 states about deadly tomato recall expansion

My confession: I don’t know if this salmonella outbreak can be attributed to the TACO Regime and the DOGE cuts. A look back through history shows that these outbreaks happen. But PINO TACO would not hesitate to hyperventilate with all caps and exclamations points were a Democrat POTUS. So I’m really just emulating TACO’s style.

Does a post like this help with civil discourse and problem solving? Hell, no. But when the GOTP and TACO Regime stops doing it and get serious, so will I.

Next, American Resistance! This was posted over on Mock Paper Scissors. WP still won’t permit me to properly reblog from them, so here’s my work-around. Summary: Masked gunman are trying to round people up. Without badges and insignia, they could be anybody.

More, Please

This should give us a little lift to start our day. Make no mistake, if you get the mellow beach bums of San Diego to rise-up, anyone can rise-up.

The thing that worries me is that without badges or other identifying insignia, any crack-pot militia can start playing this game and rounding-up people in white vans and disappearing them, and vigilantes are not exactly known for rules. We need more of this to stop the Gestapo/ICE (and maybe the Proud Boys).

As much as I hate saying this, IF you are white use your white privilege if you see this happening: it’s your Superpower against these fascists/racists. Demand to see warrants signed by a judge, and don’t let them disappear people.

(Hat tip: Scissorhead Purplehead)

Remember to resist this and other un-American behavior on No Kings Day, June 14th.

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

My stomach often makes noises after eating. Dinner – my late meal – is the one that has my guts singing the most. Today, weirdly, though, my stomach began booing.

My stomach has never booed before. It kind of hurt. I wondered, is my stomach booing me? Of all the body parts which might have reason to boo, I never thought that my stomach would be the first.

I realized my stomach could be booing other things. I’d just eaten pasta for dinner. This pasta is made from chickpeas. I had garlic/lemon olive oil on it. Maybe my stomach disagreed with my taste buds and brain and wanted something other than that meal.

I’d also turned on the television. Coverage of Trump making hateful comments about former President Biden was on. Like, what’s new, right? I don’t usually watch anything in which I must be forced to hear or see Trump. My stomach could have been booing him or his elements of image and voice. I can understand that. I’m with my stomach on the booing if that’s what it was all about.

But, I’d also been thinking about having watermelon for dessert and decided against that because I thought it would make me feel too full My stomach may have been booing that decision, or the subsequent decision that I was moving from the news to watch Hacks.

I don’t know. Like My Neurons, my stomach has a will of its own. It’s also not afraid to speak up. I just hope that this booing isn’t something that it plans to do more often. I wonder if I can give it something which will make it cheer?

Sunda’s Theme Music

Rain took its drops and went elsewhere. Though clouds stayed, sunshine rushed in. A swirly, restless day was had. Hot in direct sun, chilly in shadow when the wind played. We did see 66 F at our house. Now it’s dropping, expecting to stoop to the 40s overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll do it again.

For the record, this is Sunda, Mai 18, 2025.

I’ve been busy all day. This was the culmination of a cleaning project. Ashlandia and Recology were taking in trash and electronics free of charge this weekend at the transfer station. This inspired my wife and I to declare we’ll do some cleanup and rid ourselves of unused and broken old items. Beginning Twosda, I pulled, cleaned, inspected, and decided on what to do with stuff which we’d accumulated and didn’t seem to be using. I consulted with my wife as necessary. Like, we have three big boxes of china. It’s a formal dinnerware setting for twelve, acquired in Germany over a period fro 1988 to 1991. We’ve probably used them a half dozen times, and not any time in the last decade. Much of it was awarded to me as prizes in monthly, quarterly, and annual competitions at a base or specific units. Mikasa was one of the sponsors and would often give gift certificates. My wife used ones I won to buy china. No, we didn’t pitch the china. We put it aside to give to a friend who will take it to a charity boutique. A few times a year they have a big sale and include things like china. Proceeds help offset people’s cost for hospice.

My wife’s health kept her sidelined during Operation Cleanup. But I enjoyed the solitary work. While I put in a couple hours every day after writing, today was the load up and drop off. The SUV was backed up and configured. Loading began at 10:15. By 11:30, I was ready for the dump trip. I hit the line at 11:45 and inched the vehicle to the gate at 12:30. They directed me to trash and electronics, which covered my contributions. By 1 PM, I was back home.

Then I cleaned clean the car and reconfigured its seating and all that, and cleaned the garage and rearranged things to be more organized and take advantage of the cleared space. I just finished that at 6 PM. I sweated a few buckets today, and my feet are singing about their unhappiness like a bunch of hounds with the blues. I’m taking advantage of this time to post before I make my dinner.

Today’s song turned out to be “On A Carousel” by the Hollies. They released it in the 1960s. It’s a song about love and the up and down ride you’re on when you’re in love. I was using it to think about Trump. We’re going around and around with him as he whines about the judicial system and courts, ignores the Constitution, threatens anyone who disagrees with him, and then acts like an idiot who mated a jackass. Guess that would be a idioass or a jackiot. Did you hear about him and his video where he’s supposed to be playing “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey in concert? His connections with reality frays more every hour. His supporters don’s seem much better. Guess they’re holding on to their dreams.

Time to call it. Hope you had a good one. Cheers

Sunda’s Theme Music

Sunda, Mai 11, 2025, has arrived, per schedule. Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers who celebrate it on this day. Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers even if you don’t celebrate it on this day.

I ordered Mom’s Mother’s Day present in April. It was delivered before the requested delivery date. I wasn’t overly concerned by that, except that Mom’s house was victimized by a wind storm that took out her power and caused her an electricity-free week plus of suffering and coping. I reported to my sister that Mom’s package was delivered, and if she has a chance, see if it’s there. I also told Mom, and repeated that message today. I didn’t call Mom but texted her. I didn’t call because she tends to drop into free verse laced with bitterness, anger, and suspicions, and doesn’t like talking on the telephone any longer because she can’t hear. Frustrating situation, as anyone who’s experienced things like this can attest.

I reminded Mom about how it used to be in my texts. Back in the day when travel was easier and less expensive, before the enshittification of so many travel aspects. I would have loved to go back there for Mother’s Day. We used to take her for brunch. She had her favorite places. In her later years, about the time she turned 70, she started eating dessert before main course, surprising me, cracking me up.

I haven’t heard back from her.

Ashlandia’s weather pulled a Trump on me. Flip flopping about the weather, one thing was promised and another thing was delivered. In the weather’s case, spring promised sunshine and warmth. Instead, we find the wind has fashioned wintry inflections. Instead of hyping “Summer is coming,” it’s singing, “Winter is coming,” ala Game of Thrones. Although it is 57 F outside right now, clouds are gathering and darkening, encouraging the wind. Today’s high will be a meager and un-Ashlandia May temperature of 64 F, if that.

Papi started today’s music. His nemesis came around last night. Gray and white, with a sneering attitude and chunky body, the interloper wasn’t moved by Papi’s loud demands for the other to surrender or leave. I went out and encouraged Papi to return inside. Papi loathed doing so. When Gray & white trotted away, Papi wanted pursuit. Finally, he surrendered to me and returned to the house’s safety.

Happening at pitch black AM, recalling the confrontation this morning invited The Neurons to add music. The music was “Surrender” by Cheap Trick. The song came onto the pop rock scene in 1978, when I was but twenty-two. It’s kind of an odd rock song as it addresses who his mother was before the narrator came on the scene versus who she is now. Then, reveal, Mom and Dad still have a wild streak that’s bared toward the son’gs finish.

But why that refrain? “Surrender, but don’t give yourself away”? Doesn’t it seem contradictory? Yes and no, to me. I think the surrender part is about giving up on some puzzling matters but leave your core values intact. But hey, it’s music. It’s rock. It doesn’t always necessarily make sense as long as it sounds good.

Coffee has been served and drunk. Shopping is on the horizon for my wife and I. Hope you have plans. Remember, doing nothing is still doing something. Cheers

Frida’s Wandering Political Thoughts

This just in:

Trump calls emptying U.S. ports a ‘good thing’ despite supply-chain panic because ‘that means we lose less money’

“We’re seeing as a result that ports here in the U.S., the traffic has really slowed and now thousands of dockworkers and truck drivers are worried about their jobs,” a reporter said in the press briefing.

“That means we lose less money,” Trump said. “When you say it slowed down, that’s a good thing, not a bad thing.”

I agree with PINO Trump.

I have found that having my bank account, refrigerator, freezer, and pantry all almost empty is a good thing. Without money, I can’t buy replacement stuff for my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer. Things like food, and “eggs”, as PINO Trump likes to write it.

Having less food is so much healthier. Thanks to less food, I’m losing weight. With less food, I have less energy, so I’m sleeping more. That keeps me more sated with doing nothing, so I’m not out there, spending money, contributing to the local economy, accumulating stuff which I’d just need to get rid of. Thanks to having less money, I’m using my car less, buying less gas. With others like me also buying less gas and things, we keep prices down. Since we’re buying less, businesses are able to fire employees. That means those former employees are also buying less, staying home more often, and sleeping more. Win, win, win!

We’re also helping to save the environment. We don’t have the cash or means to go places. That keeps the air, land, and water, free from our cars’ pollutants. Since we don’t have money or energy, we also go on vacation less, further keeping the air clean of pollutants from aircraft. It all makes sense, in an Alice-in-Wonderland way that I’ve never realized before.

What a stable genius PINO Trump is. I so admire his brilliant logic.

This snark was brought to you by coffee. Coffee: it’s what’s for breakfast, and writing.

Twosda’s Theme Music

Sunshine beams down on us from a blue vault in Ashlandia. Already 72 F, we’ll kiss 81 F, it’s said. Lovely weather for Twosda, May 6, 2025.

I feel like I’m juggling a bobillion things today. I can’t define a bobillion except to say that it’s a number that keeps my mind whirling in different directions. Many are random minute modern matters. Then again, isn’t that the norm these days? Sure seems like it. We’ve gone from working the land to working in the office to working the phone and computer at home. Nothing to do but pursue and complete it all. Prioritize as necessary. Keep in mind is most of it is small stuff that fuels bureaucracies. But bureaucracies are the current engines that move things forward. I would now usually go on and point out that the Trusk Regime is busy tearing down bureaucracies, pointing to how much he and his Trumpnies (Trump cronies) want us to go backwards. But that point has been beaten into thin batter. If you don’t get it by now, you probably won’t until you’re personally affect and distraught at the results.

Today’s morning mental music stream is occupied by Journey. Journey had a strong presence on the rock scene in the mid-1970s to early 1980s. Today’s song is “Don’t Stop Believin'”. Released in 1981, the song became a top 10 hit in many nations. Arriving to Okinawa for military duty, I heard it often on AFN Radio and playing on jukeboxes.

Hope your day is strong and hopeful, and feeds and supports your need to keep believing. Coffee has been served. Here we go again, one more day in the United States. Cheers

The Password Shuffle

An email arrived. Tricare4U received and processed a recent claim.

Uh oh.

I expect to have a bout of acute passworditis soon.

Many Americans suffer from passworditis. The condition is brought on by websites not accepting passwords despite meeting all their stated requirements. Symptoms may include deep depression, a desire to drink heavily, incoherent screaming and swearing, high blood pressure, and a feeling of deep exhaustion accompanied by a temptation to go to bed and pull the covers over your head.

I also sometimes expire these symptoms of passworditis while using WordPress, but that’s about ‘features’ which act in capricious ways.

Tricare4U is part of the Defense Department’s healthcare labyrinth. I’ve been using Tricare variations since 1995, when I retired from the Air Force. Dealing with any Tricare issue is rarely fun and never easy. Logging on is usually the worse part. This is done through DS Log On.

As my friend Jill would say, GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

The passwords expire every 60 days. Installing a new one is a pain from hell. They have nine requirements. All are reasonable requirements. My new password meets all nine requirements. I know that because all nine requirements begin in red. As you fulfill one, it turns green. .

I must fill it into the new password box. Everything is green.

Then I add it again to confirm the password. These again show colors when it all works.

Despite everything showing as green, i.e., good to go, the submit button to complete the password change won’t come up. I stall out at that point every friggin’ time.

I used three different browsers.

Closed all windows and rebooted my computer.

Cleared my cache.

I have made twelve attempts in sixty-five minutes. I remain mired in password hell.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

I’m shutting it down for now. More coffee is required before I try again. All this to see what they say about my claim. Will I owe? What obtuse reasoning will they use?

Sigh. Not a fun beginning to my Twosda. It’s not good for my health. Ironic?

Don’t ask me.

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