Do you know that they still sell packages of cookies that don’t reseal? I’m not talkin’ of one or two cookies; these are packages of twenty-four cookies. It’s like they expect us to eat all the cookies at once so they’d don’t bother with a resealable package. It’d be uncivilized for us to eat a few and then set aside an open package of cookies. The cookies’ freshness must be preserved.
Those manufacturers not providing resealable packages are really cruel. Mean. Barbaric. I’m looking at you, Trader Joe’s.
The man at the table beside mine is a coffee shop regular. Don’t know his name but I know his habits.
A woman approaches him. I’ve seen her once in a while. They chat for a bit. He mentions that she’s back from her travels and elaborates, remarking that she returned to Reno to see friends and family, like, her daughters and parents still live there. “Oh, yes,” he responds, “you left everyone back there, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I love living here in Ashland. I think it’s great.”
Then he asks, “Remind me your name again?”
“Donna, and you’re?”
“Jack.”
I‘m a little amused by the sequence. Then again, I’ve gone through those sequences myself. A face and history is recalled, but the name is swimming through the mind’s lower depths, beyond your reach.
My fellow Terra-zens. Today is February’s 1 in the common era of 2024. It’s a Thursday and local Ashlandia weather is trying to decide if it’s sprinter, spring, or winter. Things are blooming and growing like spring has taken over but the air has a wintry bite and colder temperatures are destined to arrive in the week’s tale end. Temperature is now 54 F after an overnight low of 46 F, on our way to a 56 F high. Rain is also expected but the wind has desisted from its menacing ways. It’s calm, with sunshine highlighting high, darkening clouds against azure sky.
So many ways of looking at the end of January, beginning of February. Like, OMG, 2024 is already a month gone. Or, less than two week until Valentine’s Day, and Christmas is less than eleven months away. If you’re going to school, you might be counting the months until you’re freed from the classroom, whether it’s remote, virtual, or physical. If you’re into the summer, you’re marking your calendar and grinning; just a few more months until summer.
This morning’s morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) is “Only You Know and I Know”. Dave Mason wrote the performed the song in 1970. Delaney and Bonnie and Friends released a cover in 1970. I was a kid then, 13-14 years old. When I heard the D&B’s version, I was taken back. First, I recognized the backbone of the melody, began realizing the song, and then realized, “This isn’t Dave Mason. It’s someone else.” I don’t know why that jarred me so much then, hearing it on my clock radio in my basement bedroom that I remember it so vividly today. Not like I’d not heard covers by different people before. One of those baffling aspects of meself. Fascinating how memory seems to work. From what I read, I might think I remember this but am actually customizing memories to fit my need.
I’m offering Dave Mason’s version first just cuz I enjoy it, and then included a D&B w/ Friends version, one of the friends being Duane Allman in this instance. Hope you like the song and enjoy both versions. Let me know how it goes.
BTW, reason The Neurons plugged this song into my MMMS is a line which goes, “You know you can’t go on getting your way, ’cause if you do, it’s going to get you someday.” And yes, I was thinking of Mr. DJ Trump on the heels of the case of Carroll v. Trump, and the finding that he now must pay 83 million dollars. I am hopeful other things will catchup with him and get him before November of 2024.
They’re starting our house-painting tomorrow by powerwashing it. I wanted to do it myself but my better half wisely talked me out of it, pointing out that it would cut into my writing efforts. That awoke the musi, who shouted, “Yikes! We can’t have that!” Having the house painted is the first step in selling it so we can move away. We’re still searching for where we’ll go. We know we’re heading to the northeastern region of the US but haven’t pinpointed it more. We figure, we’ll pack up, go back to the greater Pittsburgh, PA, area, rent a place, and then begin a serious search. That’s the plan but you know and I know that plans change.
Stay strong, be positive, and keep leaning forward. Coffee has been brewed and sipped, and caffeine is slinking its way among The Neurons. Hey, ho, here we go. Cheers
My buddy closed his email, “I especially liked the phrase, ‘he will wrestle unsuccessfully with the spark gaps widening in his brain’. Although it occurs to me that few under 60 will know what ‘spark gap means.”
Spark gap might be one term falling out of use. Another is DMZ, as in De-Militarized Zone. A friend teaching network security began talking about a DMZ with servers as part of network security and had to stop and first explain ‘DMZ’.
No surprise for me, but a little sip of delight. The world is always changing; word use is just more piece of evidence.
Mood: weathebunctious (rambunctious because of the weather)
Greeting, fellow prisoners of Earth.
It’s Wednesday, the last day of January, 2024. Another sprinter day. Light sprinkles mist the window’s view. Temperature is holding at 54 F. Aiming for a high of 56 F, expecting a low of 42 F. It’s the wind which will have you talking.
Strong wind advisories are out. I mocked them a little when I heard the warnings, but these winds are striving to make me believe. A muted growl started above us just after midnight, descending as night fled before dawn’s pursuit. Now it sounds like we’re standing by a crowded Interstate where the continuous roar of semis and cars eat pavement at sixty plus MPH. Sometimes a wolfish howl leaps over the deeper octaves, or ghostly shrieks rise up to call for attention.
Papi wanted back out in this. He’s my ginger-furred feline adventurer. He must suffer from a short memory, because he doesn’t seem to recall bolting in with legs frantically churning to escape the wind noise just a few hours ago. Tucker, for comparison, stayed five feet back from the doors when I went out to check things.
Haven’t completed my taxes. Have only received SSA’s forms and my 1099R. All other 1099 type documents are just being released. Ridiculous. I used to have all that stuff by mid-month, have the taxes filled and done before January’s end. Bureaucratic crept is pushing it out further and further, a funny development when technology to import, export, add and subtract and exchange information is available, isn’t it?
Today’s theme music came as I walked through the garage last night to deposit the kitty litter findings into the trash can. “Need to clean and organize this place again,” I muttered to myself. “Again. Get rid of some of this. Make some changes.”
Click. The Neurons began “Changes” by Yes from 1984 in my head and it’s still in the morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks) today. “Changes” was part of the 1984 Yes album, 90125. I was stationed on Okinawa at the time, and my friends and I loved this album from the start. “Owner of a Lonely Heart” was the album’s number one song, and we so admired that beginning section of fuzzy rock guitars, drums, and a heavy bass note.
Pause to reflect, 1984 was forty years ago. Lots of memories and changes built into that period.
Also, there are a lot of songs named changes or about changes, The Neurons began reminding me.
Papi just knocked at the door for re-entry. He’s wearing a fresh coat of soaked fur. Wind has dropped, rain stopped, sun is drenching us in sunshine, but sullen inky clouds are lurking.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote. There’s my coffee (well, more coffee, TBH), and here’s the music. Oh, look, it’s raining again. No, wait, sunshine is back. No, no, it’s raining. And the wind is back.
Refloofstoration(floofinition) – Fixing or cleaning up after an animal, especially a housepet.
In Use: “Many people discover that having puppies or kittens requires a readiness for frequent refloofstoration as the little gems gain mobility and curiosity and storm around the house, exploring and sometimes damaging rooms.”
In Use: “Award-winning author Mara Buck often writes humorously about her dogs and their adventures, and her need for refloofstoration to put things right again.”
Recent Use: “Many social media posters are all about their rescue and fostering efforts, and the craziness and refloofstoration needed when their charges run amok.”
Hang on tight, fellow Terrans. It’s Tuesday, Jan. 30, 2024. We’re approaching the quadfecta of mid-week, mid-winter, end of month, and mid-quarter. These mids dominate as people and organizations assess where they want to be going compared to how their trajectory is shaping up. The year’s first quadfecta is daunting for some as they address resolutions introduced at the year’s beginning. Hope and optimism either take hits or they’re buoyed to new levels of encouragement.
Another sunny day in Ashlandia, where the buildings are old and the history is average. 64 F now, clouds are sneaking in and milling around, preparing to drop new rain later this afternoon. Temperatures are not expected to descend much below 50 F tonight, though. No word on more snow expected but lower temps are crawling our way later this week.
Papi inspired today’s theme music. Papi is my floofstar, a wondrous mix of furry ginger, cream, and orange fur, pink beans and nose, white whiskers and perfect triangle ears. Although a smart fellow, his friendliness is restrained by wariness and distrust. Whether that’s nature or previous interactions with humans isn’t certain.
I opened the front door to let him in. He did his usual thing, chirping hello at me, zipping an orbit around my legs with his tail up, furry side against my calves, and then whipped into a run on the hardwood floors through the house. Playing with him, I gave mock chase. Hearing me pounding up behind him, he spun into a slide to face me and then reproached me with a short but floofnest mew.
As soon as he slid, The Neurons sang, “Oh my my, oh my my, can you boogie, can you slide?” The 1974 Ringo Starr song launched fully into my morning mental music stream (Trademark coming in two weeks). Naturally I sang it to Papi as he sat beside me and I petted him. Then Tucker — my big black and white bruiser who used to be quite the fighter — meandered up to hear the singing and catch some strokes. Papi emitted a sharply enunciated meow and bolted off for the kibble bowl.
BTW, wouldn’t Kibble Bowl be a good name for a college bowl game? The Kibble Bowl by Purina, playing in the Floof Stadium in Kitty, Oregon. (I didn’t look it up, but I think I made up Kitty, Oregon.) Make sense when you have teams named the Oregon University Ducks and the Oregon State University Beavers. Someone somewhere should also name their teams for cats and dogs. Like, the Bangor Maine Coon Cats or the Jackson South Caroline Pit Bulls.
Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and vote. It’s an important election year, one which may require greater quantities of coffee. May as well start now. Here’s the music. Cheers
I watched a young woman walking past the coffee shop. Wearing light-toned blue jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt, a dark blue ball cap let dark hair escape but was pulled low, like she was some manner of gunslinger from wild west days. It was her walk which struck me; her white shoes seemed to slap the concrete and she kept her head down, as though she had to concentrate like the Newman song, left foot, right foot, left foot, and so on.
That walk and style reminded me of someone I knew but no names came to mind. I’ve always been bad with names and faces.
Michael Seidel, writer 