Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He was hot. She was, she said, “Freezing.”
This wasn’t new.
But her fingers were white and waxy, like bloodless white candles. Their appearance stunned him into silence. She said they ached.
He merely sweated. So it was not the same thing. For her, it was pain. For him, it was comfort.
We bought new toothbrushes a few months ago. A Costco impulse buy, I’d seen it advertised on Hulu at night. We’ve had our Phillips Sonicare for a decade plus and weren’t really looking for a change but the display for the new Sonicare Smart Brush just past the television displays pulled me in.
I called my wife over to check it out because it was full of interesting features. The brushes look almost invisible. I had to really squint, holding them up to my eye to see them, but they glow pale white when the brush is turned on. Its battery pack is very small and holds a charge for up to three months of standard use. Yeah, right, like I believed that. And it’s supposed to take under 54 minutes to fully recharge, which I can confirm, it does.
But what really interested me was that you attach a toothpaste pod to it. The toothbrush will automatically feed the right amount of cleaner to the bristles for you to get the best mouth-cleaning experience. An amber light blinks when it’s time to refill the pod. The ‘cleaner’ is less like a paste and more like a spray. Different flavors are available. I use spearmint but my wife uses cinnamon. Tests show that this cleaner also wipes out plaque. Cool.
A small blue light comes on and it softly chimes whenever you’re at a ‘problem area’ where you need to brush longer. The light goes green when you’ve done the area enough. The brush turns itself off when it detects that your mouth is cleaned and tells you, “Spit and rinse”. I know, it sounds crazy. My wife was dubious but a two pack with extra heads was less than eighty dollars, including the cleaner pods, so we agreed and bought them. Do I need to tell you who really loves it? Yes, her.
The one thing she still doesn’t like is that it’s black, as is the ‘paste’ (I still don’t know what to call it), so when you’re done brushing, your teeth and mouth are all black, but she agrees that the toothbrushes are great. The black all rinses off and our teeth look amazingly white. It still surprises me when that blue light goes on. It also has an app for your phone to remind you to brush. It dings and vibrates and then displays a message, telling you how long it’s been since you last brushed. It’ll also send those messages to smart watches and Fitbits, if you set it up.
So, yeah, we love them, and I recommend them. The worst aspect of this Smart brush to me is that it only exists on April 1st.
Cheers
An acquaintance died. Over eighty, he lived a solid life. He’d been diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer not too long ago. He and his wife were getting ready to go for a walk. She said something to him, behind her, as she put her shoes on.
He didn’t answer.
She looked around and found him dead.
She’d prepared herself. Still, a shock that it was so sudden, without preamble. She has kept on with all her usual activities. I learned of his death through my wife. She went to exercise class and heard the news. When she saw the widow, she hugged her.
The woman asked, “What else can I do?”
My wife replied, “Keep dancing.”
“Exactly.”
Smiles, hugs, and tears went on.
He hated to do it. It seemed shameful. But.
He was helping a friend, staying in contact, checking on her, trying to encourage her. But she’d become belligerent lately. Combative. Seriously negative.
It exhausted him. He decided he needed a break. Had to take care of himself so he could take care of her. It felt like a rationalization, but he knew he was right.
She brought me a small white plate.
Two dark pieces nestle on it. I stare at them, then shift the stare to her.
I had been smelling them since I came into the house after my coffee house writing session. Chocolate.
K is on a diet. Today is day 30. She is allowed to add one thing today. She added vegan honey to her breakfast amaranth. Now she waits three days to see if there’s a reaction. If a reaction — pain, a flare, stiffness — is experienced, that item is banned from her diet. Forever. Then she resets for a few days and adds another item. If no reaction is felt, she adds another item and waits three days. So it goes.
This means that she can’t eat what’s on the plate.
She’s hosting book club next month. The moderator opted for something lighter for March. Lessons in Chemistry. Bonnie Garmus. Kay is making vegan brownies studded with chocolate chips. These are vegan chips from Trader Joe’s. Vegan butter was used. This is a test batch. A Ghirardelli mix was used.
“Taste these,” she tells me. “Tell me what you think.”
She can’t have them. Diet. Two of the Ashlandians in the book club are vegan.
I force myself to eat a chewy, gooey vegan brownie.
“Wonderful chocolate taste. Not too sweet. Greasy,” I announce. That makes sense to her. There was something about the vegan butter melting and then measuring it again. She didn’t do that. “And they’re not done enough.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Maybe just three.”
She nods. She’ll make another test batch this week.
They go great with black coffee on a winting Ashlandia afternoon. An entire tray waits for me in the kitchen.
I’ll need to pace myself or it might be death by chocolate.
I was out walking yesterday afternoon, slow-baking in the sun. My informants told me that the temperature was 51 F. Telling self, “This is nice,” I thought I’d extend the wall. With a magician’s swiftness, clouds blocked the sun. “Damn, it’s cold,” self said. A icy wind knifed through me. Drizzle followed. Three minutes after enjoying a fine, sunny walk, I was heading home out of the drizzle.
This is Monday, Feb. 6 of 2023. It’s a boom sort of day. Initiated early dark hours after rain began shortly after the witching hour, curtailing an hour later. Then – boom – clouds split, and here comes the moon, reflecting powerful white light from the sun. Sweet. Following up at this AM, 7:19, boom, sun kicked shine over the horizons into Ashlandia. While it’s sunny now, 37 F, weather spies tell me it’ll rain later, with a high of 56 F before the Earth turn takes Ashlandia’s sun away.
Yesterday was a good day for moi on many fronts. Wordle in two. As Wordlebot said, that was really lucky. Excellent writing and editing time, knock on wood, an enjoyable walk, followed by a pleasant dinner of fish with roasted red potatoes and broccoli. Dessert was flax chocolate cookies while we watched episode of The Last of Us.
My wife had none of that dinner or dessert. She continues her anti-chronic pain diet. No sugar, no salt, no processed foods. She’s on the section where in addition to certain raw veggies, quinoa, and sweet potatoes, she’s allowed kale, coconut water, buckwheat, and green smoothies. How much longer she’ll continue this is unknown, but she likes how of her RA pains and flares have gone into remission. I make my own meals while she makes her, and I’m careful not to bring in anything that might tempt her. She has strong willpower and discipline. It’s been over a month and she doesn’t show signs of flagging.
The Neurons are singing a song featured as my theme music before, “Cheap Sunglasses” by ZZ Top from 1979. Not sure what enticed The Neurons to begin playing it, but I always enjoy it. Love how the vocalist, Billy Gibbons, enumerates this woman’s features, concluding, “What really knocked me out were her cheap sunglasses.” Oh, yeah.
Stay pos and enjoy the moonday. I’ve had some coffee but I’m up for more. Here’s the music. ZZ Top was always a fun concert. Cheers
Rivers of black and white clouds roil and move, splitting the sky into islands of blue. It’s Friday, but the weather doesn’t care. 47 F so not bad from the temperature aspect although it does feel like 40, they tell me (I could of sworn it feels like 38 but whatever), but it’s rainy and windy, with the sun bobbing in and out of cloud cover.
This is February 3, 2023. Ashlandia’s high temperature will be (check checking) 50 degrees F. We’re trending warmer this week, with no lows below freezing and highs hanging around the mid 50s until Wednesday. The overnight low will drop to 28 that day, and it’ll rain. The sun made its rise over our mountainous horizon this morning at 7:22 and will skate away from Ashlandia’s sky at 5:28 PM.
The state is slipping and sliding through the mechanism of producing and selling magic mushrooms here. Yes, one is available. After psilocybin was voted to be used as a legal hallucinogen in Oregon, the legislature gave the counties and cities the opportunity to opt out or hold a two-year moratorium on doing anything with the new situation. My state and city didn’t opt out. They’re not doing anything about it yet, as psilocybin is still illegal on the Federal level. Marijuana was in the same situation when Oregon went legal with it for recreational uses as well as medical. It still is Federally illegal, but the Feds let the states enforce the situation for the most part, and more states have opted for legal recreational marijuana use. We’re now at the stage where the state is going to address the legal situation and law enforcement for possession and use of psilocybin with the Biden administration. Although other actions are being taken in parallel to this, the handshake between the Federal and state levels of law enforcement is a huge aspect.
Marijuana growing and sales has worked out well for Oregon, in a general sense. The largest problems are water and illegal cultivations by gangs that moved up here from down south. We’re addressing both. I’m pleased with marijuana and psilocybin being made legally available as it helps many of my friends who endured severe trauma and injuries in their jobs, either in the military, as police officers, or fighting fire. These drugs help them deal with pain and PTSD.
The Neurons have several songs going in the morning mental music stream. Two are by Ozzy Osbourne. He’s been in the news with health matters and the announcement that his touring days are done so naturally Les Neurons picked up on him and his music and plugged it into my head. The other song is “Livin’ on the Edge” by Aerosmith, from 1993. That’s the one, I decided. “Livin’ on the Edge” is Friday’s theme music.
Coffee has arrived and been consumed while it was hot. Time to move along, little doggies. Stay positive and enjoy Friday and all the days which follow.
Cheers
Time for electric Elevens. Yes, we’re on the 11th of Jan, 2023. Coming up on the month’s halfway point of the new year’s first month.
Little has changed for me and it feels depressing. I’m sipping coffee in hopes of elevating my mood. Don’t know why I’m down but I can speculate on reasons. Could be the fog, rain, and wind swirling around outside. Wind sounds like it’s planted someone right outside the window to make ghostly woooooo noises. Writing the first draft and working on it to improve the story could be depressing me because it feels like there’s so much more still to do. Maybe it’s just the news and its unchanging flavors of death and politics, and the ugly, jaundiced textures that infuse it. Or, it could be that I’m in a rut and it wearies me, looking up the rut’s same walls. Probably just my time of month, when hormonal changes bring out my dark side. I could also chalk up to SAD, one supposes. Reminder to self to not make any impulsively stupid decisions today, because this will pass, brother.
Wednesday has landed on us. The fog has moved back and up, so I can see more world. Chainsaws and chippers drone and sing, informing me of another tree’s demise. Outside, it’s 42 degrees F again though it feels like 33. Flat white clouds with a tincture of gray have overwhelmed the sun. Sunrise was same as yesterday, 7:39 AM, but sunset has inched a few minutes back and will now be at 5 PM sharp.
Two songs compete in the morning mental music scream stream. The Neurons have me hearing “Just My Style” by Gary Lewis & the Playboys from 1965. Okay. The other is “Self Esteem” by the Offspring from the middle of the 1990s. I can guess why The Neurons are doing this to me. The same lines keep repeating, from one and then the other. First we have the bass delivery, “Don’t you know that she’s,” followed by the rest of the band singing “Just my style,” from the first song. Then the Offspring sing, “The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right? Yeah.” Both have been featured in this space before. I’ll flip a mental coin for which one is today’s theme music.
Time to drink up this coffee and pretend it’s a day. Stay positive! Test negative. Rise above yourself, I tell myself. I’ll suggest the same to you. Let me end this whiney scree. Hey, look sunshine! Too slow — it’s gone. Keep an eye out; it’ll be back.
Cheers
It was another military dream but with a marked difference. First, a friend, Jeff, who was also in the military was in the dream.
I was at some unidentified Air Force base. I was a chief master sergeant, E9, and was due to attend a conference of CMS that was due to start. (This is two ranks above my RL retired rank.) I worried about my hair, my uniform, and my shoes as attendees began arriving. But I slipped away and pressed my uniform, taking care of that, putting razor sharp creases in it. Then I stayed low until the barber opened. When I walked into the barber shop, there were two barbers and no customers, so either one could immediately cut my hair. Both knew me by name.
After getting my hair cut, I left the shop and looked down at my shoes. They were scuffed and old. I said to myself, those aren’t my shoes, and they immediately changed into highly polished new shoes.
I felt a lot better about myself. I ran into Jeff, also a CMS. He and I chatted. I ended up telling him about a cousin who died of cancer (a cancer did die of cancer in RL). We were walking around as we talked. Female military spouses were all over the place, and they kept flirting with me. The attention flattered me.
Jeff and I stayed together through the morning, sitting down and eating. Then the conference was due to start. Another CMS came up and asked if I was going, because it was getting under way. I told him that I’d left the military twice and came back twice, but now I’m done. I wasn’t going to attend. I was taking off my uniform and leaving.
I went off to find a bathroom. When I found one, I undressed and then peed and discovered that my pecker was half purple. One of the wives walked in on me. While taking a long look at my body, she apologized for entering. I replied, “I don’t mind. I’m just wondering why my penis is half purple.”
Dream end.
Michael Seidel, writer 