I watched a woman enter the coffee shop. She’s familiar to me as a semi-regular. Like me, in her late sixties, I think, she walks with direct, no-nonsense style. Her hair is short but neat, and her clothing matches that no-nonsense, low maintenance image. I wonder if that’s how she is — no nonsense, direct, practical. Or is this a facade? Does she walk like that because that’s how she wants to be, and not how she is?
Fun to imagine such a character like that. Reminds me of friends I’ve had. Intelligent and capable in one arena, they were disasters in other areas of their life. Yet others were methodical, practical, and organized in all facets of life.
Memory of a co-worker’s comment to me once springs up: “Your level of organization must drive your wife nuts.” They said that while I was organizing software packages.
No, my wife has never commented on it. But when I put something away, I can tell you exactly where it is. Which, as I think about it, is exactly like both Mom and Dad.
Yesterday, sunshine was uncorked on us. Washing through blue skies, our air temp crested 70 F and lived there for a while. Gorgeous day, right?
Today, it’s 51 F and sunny. But we’re only expecting 63 F. And…rain. Still, pretty springish winter day. ‘Bout average for Ashlandia on Saturda, March 1, 2025.
Yep, a new month has begun. Sixteen percent of 2025 has been experienced. Those expecting a calm after the 2024 elections are probably disappointed. Those working for the Federal government in any capacity are likely stunned. Those hoping for lower inflation are probably too overwhelmed for emotions.
One thing unchanged are the lies that come out of Trump’s mouth. ‘Another lie’: MSNBC’s Nicolle Wallace smacks down Trump and Vance’s latest claims. No matter the subject, he will reliably lie, twist history, and bloviate, a fool who thinks himself a genius. He’s demonstrated these ‘qualities’ throughout his lifetime. Since he first announced his run for POTUS, it has been recorded and documented. And it sill goes on because his cult followers and the GOTP gleefully slurp it up by the spoonful.
Let me turn away from that. Take a coffee break for a while.
The Neurons dragged today’s song out of 2015. It came from a morning compound of wondering and cogitating as I slept-walked through the morning observances related to cleaning, feeding, eating, drinking. Prepping goes with all that. The routines induced a reflective miasma about being younger. Only, I was not the direct object of these thoughts; I was focused on Mom and Dad. Dad is with his third wife. In his nineties, he has issues but she’s younger than him by a decade and tends him well. His situation is solid.
Mom, though, is 89. She lives with her 95 year-old-fiance. It’s an old, three-story house. She falls a lot. Injuries and worries ripple out of each fall. She blames her back for her falls. I blame pride. I blame her refusal to accept her limitations and adjust her activities to their new scope. I understand; I don’t give up my routines. They’re routines because they comfort or reassure, or we enjoy them. These routines address something in our psychological makeup which isn’t easily altered.
The song is by Lukas Graham. As I went through the thought exercise of looking back, gazing forward, and reflecting on now, “7 Years Old” played in my morning mental music stream. The song is about reflections of being different ages and the attitudes and memories of that age prevail. So it was quite apt for my morning mental meandering.
Coffee and a doughnut are trespassing on my taste buds. Don’t know how they got past my defenses. Hope your day rocks in needed good ways. Here we go, in three…two…one…
I thought in depth on this. I retired from the military after twenty years. It was surprisingl easy to say good-bye to it. But I’d been ready to leave it for at least a year. The politics and hypocrisy inherent in the organization disgusted me. Also, leaving wasn’t hard because we rotated every two to four years. Little was permanent, thanks to ‘permanent change of station’ orders. I was deployed to theaters around the world, and the missions changed. While controlling nuclear weapons, war planning, and mitigating the effects of disasters were constant, as were the uniforms, the people were not. We were proficient at ending phases and saying good-bye.
That got me to thinking about how it was really about the people. Leaving IBM after fifteen years was like leaving the military: supremely easy. For the final nine years, I worked from home in southern Oregon. My co-workers were mostly voices on the phone. I’d rarely actually met any of them. My niche was small and I typically dealt with the same ten semi-strangers all week. It was boring, although it could be mentally stimulating, but mostly tedious and empty. Projects would arrive with great fanfare. Then the winnowing would begin. Many projects failed to launch. That was the business.
I left home and family when I was seventeen. Mom’s home was riotous with broken marriages and arguments. When I lived with Dad, he was an absent father. I became adept at being independent.
My wife and I have been together for over fifty years. That’s an ongoing phase. I’ve moved around the nation and around the world. Relatively little remained the same for me. Change was a constant phase.
But we usually had cats. They bonded with me more than my wife, with one exception. These cats became my buddies. At one point, I had six living with me. Another four that belonged to neighbors regularly visited. Now all are gone except one, and he’s getting old.
That’s what phase I guess it’s been hardest to let go of. Each fur friend’s death was so deeply felt that I’m weary of feeling it. My wife said the same and has declared, no more cats. I’m willing to accept that for the moment, but it’s the end of a phase, and a very long good-bye.
When it comes to DIY, ‘ambitious’ isn’t in my vocabulary. Honestly, I keep it simple.
I miss the old days, when part of my DIY routines were working on the car. Changing oil, cleaning or replacing the spark plugs, setting the ignition timing, rotating the tires, installing new brakes, bleeding that system, replacing the radiator coolant, etc. Those were fun and rewarding DIY projects. Then, though, cars became complicated. Engine bays became packed so tightly that reaching spark plugs was an ordeal. Getting to the oil filter was a nightmare. I’m reduced to installing a new battery in the car and topping off the windshield wiper fluid.
Around the house, I’ve done multiple small jobs. Replaced the furnace’s control board. Installed new thermostat. Replaced the filters, installed capacitators on the air conditioning, along with some other pieces on it. I’ve installed new light fixtures in various rooms, took the dishwasher apart and fixed it, and did troubleshooting on the microwave, replacing fuses and different parts. Likewise, I’ve done some plumbing work but I keep it simple. I’ve painted all the rooms except two, installed a blower in the gas fireplace, and do all my yard work. Yes, I’ve installed some shelving and assembled furniture.
On my computers, I’ve swapped out hard drives, processors, fans, video cards, and power supplies, and added or changed memory. In many ways, I think of them as the modern equivalent of working on cars back when cars had mechanical systems. I’ve installed and replaced routers and modems, replaced keyboards, added different streaming devices and printers, and did basic troubleshooting on software and security, uninstalling, reinstalling things as necessary, and took apart the keyboards and cleaned them.
Many of these things are driven by being cheap. I don’t want to pay others for what I think I might be able to fix. I’m also driven to understand these things more. I want to know how they work, how the parts interact, etc. These systems are mature and demonstrate ingenious engineering solutions. Finding how they work amazes me, and the Internet is a useful tool for that purpose. Then, to restore them when they’ve died is such a validating process.
That validation process is a big component. In a complex world, where so much seems beyond our control, it’s satisfying to take something broken apart, and make it work again. Just keep it simple.
Sunshine, gejer sunshine here. Another sprinter day had landed in Ashlandia. It held quite well yesterday, with the sun pushing us into the mid to upper 50s. 43 F now we’re expectin’ the same today. ‘They’ of the weather seer industry tell us tomorrow will push 70 F. To which I say, ahhhh…
Read the news but meh. The midweek firehose is fully open. Triggering many thoughts. We’re waiting on the budget news from the House and Senate reconciliation. Democrats are expecting the GOTP to attack Medicaid to fund the wealthy’s tax breaks. The GOTP is retorting with indignity, “Lies, lies.” Most claim they’re not going to touch Medicaid but a few of them have been eagerly eyeing it and salivating. PINO Trusk of course is claiming that the GOTP won’t touch it but he’s a known liar so his assurances don’t much matter. Besides, he’s busy golfing.
Flashback moment: Remember back when he first ran for POTUS last decade when Trump said he would be too busy to golf? He’s since gone on to golf more than any other POTUS. Meanwhile, prices rise and the U.S.’s world standing cracks and falls.
Today’s music is by Free. If you guessed it would be “Alright Now”, you’re damn clever. I don’t know why The Neurons parked the 1971 song in my morning mental music stream. Just arrived sans warning as I bubbled the kitchen doing morning bizness. If you’re of a certain age, watching the video of the boys performing will ring with nostalgia. This was rock.
Coffee has stolen into my body’s inner sanctum. Now I’m ready to rock. Hope you rock your day wherever you are and whatever you do. Here we go, in three…two…one…
I received my new medical compression sock. Yes, just one, for the left leg. The right leg was in worse shape. The sock for it is now ordered and I’m waiting for it to arrive.
Meanwhile, the new ‘medical grade’ compression sock is custom made for my limb from the knee to the the toes. So one, difficult to put on. Two, comfortable. Three, much more difficult to get off.
But what really struck me is that it has a seam down the back that runs over my calf, Achilles tendon, heel, and on down my foot’s center. As I put it on and aligned it, I was reminded of a previous era, when women’s nylon stockings had a seam down the back. I remembered movies where a woman would show her legs and ask, “Are my seams straight?” So I went out to my wife and asked, “Is my seam straight?”
This is a simple prompt to address. It’s simple for me because I’ve thought about it before. I long ago read about, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” So I’ve examined. Looked at what I did wrong. Catalogued my failures and successes. Looked at where and how they could be improved.
Five basic tenets emerged.
Have more confidence.
Pursue more education.
Party less.
Be kinder and more helpful to others.
Have the courage to chase your dreams.
I imagine many people have similar insights into themselves. Fortunately, at 68 years old, I can still pursue these changes for myself. Especially the ‘party less’ aspect. I mean, do you know how much energy it takes to party? I don’t have it at my age.
It’s a balmy sprinter day. I thought winter had the upper hand but then sunshine cleared its throat and gave a roar and clouds parted like, WTF was that? A wind has genned up. A winter iciness was embedded in its front end but that wind fell away to a warmer, friendlier fellow.
Today is Sunda, February 23, 2025. I’m in a chillin’ and willin’ mood. My wife seems a little off. I know back pain has been needling her on top of what we endured with the passing of Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and politics like the bullshit SAVE act and other assaults on women’s rights. She answered, “I think I feel a depression coming on.” Sorry to hear that. “What ’bout you?” she asked. “How are you doing?”
“Emotionally coming back up, physically strong, intellectually sharp. But I have had coffee, so….”
57 F outside now, we don’t expect much temperature increase past this. Some clouds sometimes rush past and spit at us. In other words, it’s a variable, sunny, cloudy day with strong winds and a chance of rain in Ashlandia.
I’m off to a late start with this post. I typically get up, go through the dreams, do some meditation, then feed cats and myself and begin writing. Today, I was thinking about politics and went in and wrote a lengthy post first off — after feeding the cat, of course. I mean, I’m not inhumane.
After writing and posting that, I did my leg massages, ate, and now, here I am. I heard “Livin’ on the Edge” by Aerosmith on the radio yesterday. That’s a song for the times, I thought. The Neurons agreed. They kept the 1993 song going in the morning mental music stream. And why not? The song was written in the wake of the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Those riots came after people reacted to four white officers being acquitted of using unnecessary force when they severely beat Rodney King. His beating was a trigger point for already existing issues.
[Verse 3] There’s something right with the world today And everybody knows it’s wrong But we can tell ’em no or we could let it go But I would rather be a hangin’ on
The line, “If you can judge a wise man by the color of his skin then mister, you’re a better man than I,” was part of a Yardbirds 1965 song, “Mister, You’re a Better Man Than I” by The Yardbirds. I thought I’d post that up here, too, because I like that connection across over almost thirty years of rock and roll.
Coffee has been snuck into me. Here we go, another day. Hope you have a great one, wherever you are. Cheers
If we’re rockin’ and rollin’, it must be Saturda. Well, according to the calendar, even if you’re not rockin’ and rollin’, it’s still Saturda.
Sunshine flashes some spirit but we’re mostly under cover of long stretched waves of gray-topped white clouds. Will it rain? Wouldn’t you like to know… Temperature is 42 F. We came close to edging into 60 yesterday. Weird experiencing that much warmth and sunshine for such sustained exposure. Dressed in jeans, shirt, and light jacket, sweat peppered me as I walked around on household business. Nice to have, as this is our expected average for the year. But it’s been so sorely absent that we have to re-adjust to it.
This being February 22, 2025, we expect a high today of 55 F. It’ll be partly sunny and partly cloudy. Rain is expected this afternoon. The wind has punched up, reminding me of that expression about March coming in like a lion. Papi the ginger blade (aka Butter Butt) doesn’t like the wind, mewhining, “Let meeee iiiiinnnnnnnn.”
Today The Neurons have offered a musical suggestion on behalf of Trump supporters. “Use Me” by Bill Withers, from 1972, inhabits the morning mental music stream.
But my answer, yeah to all that use me stuff I want to spread the news That if it feels this good getting used You just keep on using me Until you use me up Until you use me up
I approached coffee with an offer that was eagerly accepted. Now the two of us are almost like one. Hope you have a day worth remembering for all the good reasons. Cheers
I was in the kitchen at midnight. A white flash crossed my vision’s edge.
I knew without doubt that Tucker had just bolted across the rainbow bridge. With some hot fluid boiling out of my eyes, I went in and made confirmation. Another era was over.
He went so quickly, it shocked us. He didn’t respond to any medication. All we could do is take a seat and console him and ourselves as best as we could.
Tucker was another in a long line of BFFs (Best Floof Friends). I’ve been grateful for them all and pleased that each chose to spend their time with me, sharing their secrets, insights, and love. I’m a wealthier person for them all.
And after I ached from my heart out through my chest and my face crumbled and the fluid burned my eyes more and blurred my vision, I squared up to go on. Because this is just part of the fucking roller coaster of life, up and fucking down, again and again. I hurt and will hurt for probably years because that’s just who I am. But I’ll continue moving forward, left foot, right foot, doing what I need to do.
Because all of my BFFs would always do the same. But man, I do still miss them all. Especially that last black and white handsome fellow that had to take his leave.
Michael Seidel, writer 