Stripping down to shower, he tossed his dirty undies on the floor to be taken to the hamper. The cat immediately marched over, sniffed the garment, and sat down on it. A purr boomed out.
Liked he claimed a major prized.
Sunday’s Wandering Thought
He needed to iron a shirt. Short sleeve. Cotton. Button up.
Been so long since he’d ironed a shirt. Used to do it almost every day in the military and quite often when he was in marketing. New materials and different work activities and standards had lessened requirements to iron.
He was still using their thirty-year-old iron. Why not? It works. He figured smart irons have finally arrived, though what a smart iron would do, he doesn’t know. Probably robot irons have arrived, too, just give it the shirt and it’ll know what to do. But he had to manually do it, setting up the little board and then plying seams, collar, yoke, sleeves, and most treacherous of all for him, the placket with steam and heat to make it all look unwrinkled.
After all that, he didn’t wear the shirt. Oh, well. It’d be ready for next time.
Sunday’s Theme Music
You should be outside in Ashlandia. Feels like winter’s reins have loosened on our neck of the small valley. While the sun plays peek a boo with us, the air temp is already 50. The weather whisperers chant, it may reach 70 F. Kind of leaves us in a dressing conundrum. Do you trust the whisperers, sun, clouds, and seasons? They’ve been very capricious this year.
Today is Easter Sunday, 4/9/23. Per Easter rules, established in my life under my mother’s reign when I was a child, there will be an Easter meal. In this case, it’s brunch. My wife and I hooked up with a tribe who does the same things as our parents for these holidays. Funny how that works. Jews, Christians, Catholics, Unies, atheists, and agnostics will play games and have an Easter egg hunt. At 66.75 years old, I’m the second youngest there. My wife holds that honor of youngest.
Easter sunrise was inspiring. Golden sunshine broke over the landscape at 6:40 AM. The sun’s sojourn through our area is expected to continue until 7:45 PM. Good long day.
The Neurons planted a joyful song in the morning mental music stream today. “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes (1983 – forty years ago) was never released as a single but gained popularity from the album and from its use in television commercials, movies, and television shows. It’s a happy, jaunty song, and no, it’s not about masturbation. Come and listen.
Stay pos. Enjoy your day whether it’s a holiday for you or just another workday or day of leisure or whatever. I’m up for coffee now. Here’s the Femmes. Cheers
Saturday’s Wandering Thought
He remembered the time someone he loved told him that she hated him.
Burned like a hot knife across his back. Sickened like food poisoning. He thought she loved him.
The hatred on her face.
The way she crushed the words.
Saturday’s Theme Music
Hello to all you deceivers and believers, along with the in-betweeners. That’s something Willie Nelson sang about.
Despite everything that happened in everyone’s lives, at least in this reality, the world has continued spinning, bringing us to Saturday, April 8, 2023. Despite those pronouncements about day and date, nature and the world outside of humanity goes about its business. Date and day and time doesn’t matter to it. We’re the believers, deceivers, and in-betweeners worrying about it.
The sun lightened the sky at 6:42 this morning. The world will spin Ashlandia into darkness at 1944, as far as we know. It’s 45 F now but 66 is possible, the weather goobers tell us. Mind the rain, it’ll be in and out all day, dismaying the cats, who were counting on sunshine.
Today’s song comes from getting out of bed. As the light in the room grew louder, I said to myself, get up, get up. That shifted to rise up, but memory of a dream was preoccupying my energy. Toward the end of that contemplation, The Neurons slipped “Run” by Snow Patrol out of 2004 into the morning mental music stream. “Light up, light up, as if you have a choice.” That brought a chuckle up. Staying in bed isn’t an option. Words to write and books to read were waiting, along with coffee and feed.
Then there are the cats, talking about me as if I was dead, conversing with one another, “Is he alive?”
“I don’t know. I’m gonna put a claw to his cheek and see what he does. Oh, yes, he’s alive.”
I guess I owe getting up to the cats. Well, they’ve been fed and released to the backyard where the hunt for sun entertains them.’re Stay pos. Coffee is ready so I’m gonna rise up and get a cup. There’s also vegan blueberry scones. Home made by my SO, who remains on a baking kick. I’m the beneficiary. Care for one? They go well with coffee. If you’re not a scone’r , she also made vegan chocolate chip muffins, which also go well with coffee. Plenty here and I assure you, they’re terrific.
Here’s Snow Patrol’s power ballad. Cheers
Friday’s Wandering Thought
He ended up eavesdropping again. One young woman was speaking with another. God and religion were her primary topics. Then she spoke about her boyfriend for a long time.
What drew his attention was the realization that she was crying. She said, “I love him. I know people think I’m stupid. I’m trying really hard. I think we can work it out.”
It’s a trope as old as humanity.
Floofking
Floofking (floofinition) – 1. The ruling animal of a household, group, etc.
In use: “Everyone assumes the floofking must be male because of the human definition of king, but per the flooftionary, a floofking is the dominant animal regardless of gender, size, or species. Humans tend to think themselves as the floofking of their domain, as do cats.”
2. A human who is able to manage and influence animals.
In use: “Marjorie was the neighborhood’s unquestioned floofking — a cat – dog – bear whisperer, according to stories — interacting with everything, especially crows, who happily joined her whenever she left the house.
3. To play like an animal or engage in play with an animal.
In use: “Soon after arriving home, Lucy showed up at Bob’s feet with her favorite toy, ready for a period of floofking.”
Friday’s Theme Music
We have safely reached the familiar territory called ‘Friday’. Of less familiarity is the date, April 7, 2023. April has been logged in the past, so we have some expectations sunk into us. 2023 has been going long enough to see how the pattern might be shifting. But humans, you know. They make things change.
It’s 44 today in Ashlandia, with rain expected off and on throughout the day. Clouds have been assembled to make it so. Daylight hours are from 6:43 to 7:43, AM/PM respectively, Ashlandia Time. High temperature will find the thermometer licking the mid fifties.
Much U.S. news is about the different elections held across the nation this week and their results, and what’s it all mean, along with former POTUS Trump’s arrest, and what it means, and Supreme Court Justice Thomas and the gifts he received from a wealthy conservative donor, and what it means. Some columnists and talking heads are suggesting that if the former president is convicted, President Biden should pardon him. One columnist cites former President Ford’s comments about impeached President Nixon:
“Our nation is under the severest of challenges now to employ its full energies and efforts in the pursuit of a sound and growing economy at home and a stable and peaceful world around us. We would needlessly be diverted from meeting those challenges if we as a people were to remain sharply divided over whether to indict, bring to trial, and punish a former president.”
A noble thought. I’m not sure it’s the wisest idea. First, the Russian invasion of Ukraine and other countries flexing their military muscle, I don’t know that I’d call the world stable and peaceful, though was it when President Ford pardoned the former president? Richard Nixon didn’t have a base threatening violence while flying NAZI and Confederate flags and pursuing a fascist agenda. Nor was the Republican Party of that era busy stripping the government of regulatory oversight in multiple areas, trying to remain in power through gerrymandering and limiting voting to favor their ranks and candidates. The cultural rollback which the GOP fronts is not supported by the nation’s majority, but they are determined to do it.
Coffee shop eavesdropping once again — Writer 101 — found two young women speaking with an older women. Young = twentyish, older = fortyish. Had me wondering about relationships as I often do watching people meet in the coffee place. They were within my immediate circle, ten feet away. Like everyone, they were noticed, catalogued, and then dismissed as full-bore writing mood was engaged. Their voices were loud, reminding me of one family group we have who have booming stage voices employed non-stop, and a like friend, who was always attracting attention (and counseling at work) because of her loud voice. Two of these women were loud voiced, and their statements kept puncturing the writing barrier. As part of that, one said, “Well, the reason is you.”
Oh, damn. The Neurons immediately dialed up Hobostank with their 2004 song, “The Reason”, because their main refrain is, “The reason is you.” The song gained strength when I was walking later, and now occupies the morning mental music stream. I believe sharing is needed to dislodge it. Here you are. I find this recorded ‘live’ version very engaging.
Stay pos, and storm Friday like it’s a pivotal day for you, because it could be. I’m gonna storm a cup of coffee now. Here’s ‘stank and their tune. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 