Category: miscellaneous

The TP Matter

We’ll discuss (almost) everything at Mom’s house (the off-limit topics are known by all even though they’ve never been discussed). So it was that we talked about toilet paper. Somehow I ended up telling Mom about the toilet paper caddy that hangs on the cistern’s side at my house so we always have another roll available.

“Doesn’t it get wet when you flush?” Mom asked.

“No.” I was puzzled.

She continued, “When you flush, water, particles, and germs go all over the place.”

“I know,” I answered. “Don’t you close the lid before you flush?”

“No,” she replied.

“Anyway,” I asked, “what’s that have to do with the toilet paper getting wet? With all that stuff flying around, I’d be more worried about what’s going into my mouth and nostrils or coating my skin.” I told her about an article I read about flushing toilets a few months ago and the plume effect. (I was researching, and one thing just led to another.) Those researchers concluded,

The particles primarily traveled upward and backward toward the wall behind the toilet, but some also moved chaotically in other directions. Once airborne, some particles traveled up to the ceiling, then spread out along the wall and into the room, the researchers noted.

“Eww.” Mom sat back. “When are you going home?”

I recognized a subject change when I heard one.

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I saw a segment on television about the Arlington National Cemetery and Memorial Day activies. Following a whim, I looked up my little brother’s marker and location. Four years younger than me, he lived for just over a few weeks. I remember the night Mom received the notification that he’d passed. Washing the dishes at the time, she stood there at the sink, a dish cloth in her hand, and cried and sobbed as I watched, asking her, “What’s wrong?”

She still mourns him.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Inconcoffeeiated

Today is Friday, May 24, 24. The door to the four-day Memorial Day weekend has cracked open. While the valley’s high will be about 83 F today, it’s now 69 F under a blue sky marred by sketchy cotton being stretched apart.

Started early today, helping Mom log on to a video call to get her hospital bed approved. Now I’m on the coffee shop spaceship, accepting coffee gifts to pour into my mouth. I’ve found it’s best to drink the coffee. I’ve tried pouring it on me but the results of that aren’t nearly as refreshing.

Tomorrow night, several sisters and I and a BIL are going to Oakmont to watch Pitt Floyd. Then, Sunday is a cookout at another sister’s house. Wednesday is my nephew’s graduation ceremony. Thursday I’m on a manmade bird out of here and winging west.

Today’s music was because The Neurons like a particular set of versus. The Lemon Twigs came out with “Small Victories on Later” back in 2018. The Neurons like these lyrics and have them rotating through the morning mental music stream (Trademark later).

But all is well and all is merry
Even when the times are scary
Every generation is the same
Resulting in this fear illusion
Is a void that breeds confusion
Leading to a population tame

h/t to Genuis.com

Now I can tell you for certain that this song’s place in me head was triggered by my ruminations about politics. The Republicans have evolved this fear-filled message that’s all they’re really running on for over twenty years. No real policies, just fears about what Democrats will do — take your guns, cause inflation, let illegal immigrants in, change your children into something else — a nauseating fabric predicated on baseless conspiracies and consistent lying. “Climate change is fake,” they scream as weather becomes more violent and extreme. GOP leadership responds by changing lies to disallow saying climate change or taking action against climate change. Their supporters respond, “We’re saved. Thank God they outlawed those words and actions. Let’s go make money.”

Meanwhile, Dems are establishing policies, coming up with plans, working with the international community, etc., managing threats against the country, and managing the economy. As those don’t seem to hold most voters attention, they’re now pointing out how the Trump-led is a threat against our democratic republic. Democrats and liberals point out Trump’s many lies, and the growing number of lies the GOP put out there, like the big lie, that the 2020 election was stolen.

It’s bizarrely becoming a war of fear vs fear that reminds me of the old Mad Magazine’s feature, “Spy vs. Spy”.

Enjoy the weather, enjoy the day, enjoy whatever games you play. Enjoy the coffee, enjoy the drink, and try to understand what others think.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I’ve been writing. Now I pull my head out of the morass of story and look around.

The burst of activity which took over the coffee shop like a late spring storm has faded. Regulars have come in. Parked at tables as I’ve done, they pursue their personal agendas in a public forum.

One of them is a woman. I have no idea what she’s doing. I wonder, but, shrug. I try to give everyone the same privacy I seek.

Today, though, I see that her toenails are bright mango. They match her shirt.

I haven’t noticed these things before but now I’m thinking, did she select a shirt and paint her toenails to match it, as is this a coincidence?

Now, I know, I’ll need to see her again and make a note to look for her toenails. Yes, it seems weird to me, too.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Rainflective

Today is May 10, 2024. Sis’s 70 bday is tomorrow.

It’s spring with a wintry flush in Pennhillia, PA. The air is cold and wet. Last night’s rain lowered the temperatures, and clouds keep them down. I don’t know where this front came from but it feels like it was overnighting with winter somewhere.

Light rain is dripping down on us. Temperature is 53 F, which is about our day’s high.

Mother’s Day Cookout planning is ongoing. How many people? How many and what desserts? What about side-dishes, meats, buns and breads and salads, oh my.

Good weather isn’t a call we can make. Sunday is expected to be rainy and chilly, rising into the low 60s F by the mid afternoon. Little sister Gina is hosting us. Besides her husband, children and grandchildren, two other sisters with their husbands, children and grandchildren will be there, along with Mom, me, and Mom’s beau. Fingers crossed and knock on wood that we’ll have a good time.

Today’s music is Avril Lavigne’s “My Happy Ending” out of 2004. The Neurons parked it into my morning mental music stream (Trademark drifting) after my early AM cogitations. Besides dream surveying, I was out on the porch, tasting the cold air, listening to the rain, sucking down coffee and reviewing our family history. Highlights and lowlights came like breaking waves. I remembered this and then that.

2004 became mired in my mind. Mom was my current age in that year. I was but 48. So young, so young. Only two of the many the grands were born. Mom’s beau was justing coming into the picture. She was a healthy, energetic 68 year-old. No evidence of what was to come with all of us, but then how often do the harbingers of what’s to be appear to present a head’s up?

Anyway, from that came the 2004 song, “My Happy Ending”, a succinct song about what was tried and how it failed.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. I have coffee, thanks, and I’m sucking it down like it’s the elixir of the gods. Here’s the music video. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Just more first world blues, but I’m bummed out by those automatic toilets which flush while I’m still doing my business. Then, when I do finish my biz, it doesn’t flush, forcing me to search for the magic button to make it happen.

I mean, what exactly is that thing sensing when it flushes and doesn’t? Or is it just messing with me?

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Lightning in a Box Dream

A lightning storm ruled for about an hour during the night. I listened to it. Then, when I slept, I dreamed.

I was alone somewhere, standing on a surface. Under the surface, clearly seen by me from the side via a weird dream dual perspective, were outlines of boxes. The outlines was in bold black. The boxes were white inside. Empty, was my take. They weren’t attached and were haphazardly arranged.

Although it was a clear blue sky, lightning flashed. I began thinking. With bizarre dream logic, I decided that I could catch the lightning. So, the next time it flashed, I reached up and caught the bolt, easy as grabbing a string.

Next, with dream logic, I thought I should put this lightning into a box. Then I can use its energy later.

While I thought myself right, I learned by trying that most of the boxes would not take the lightning. They weren’t large enough, or were the wrong materials, even though all were the same black outline empty white things to me.

One larger box attracted my attention. Buried in the fourth level down, I thought, that’s the perfect box, just what I need. Finding a slot in the land beneath me, I fed the lightning down into my chosen box. It took the lightning and then immediately rose one level.

I concluded, okay, catch more lightning, feed it to the box, and the box will rise to where I can grab it. Meanwhile, in the dream, I’m thinking, that’s pretty cool that I can catch lightning. I also realized, wait, instead of just ignoring the other boxes, I should re-arrange them. If I do, I can create a structure that amplifies the lightning’s power for me.

That’s what I did. As I progressed, the boxes’ black outlines changed into red, green, blue, yellow, etc. The lightning box became a brilliant white gold as it filled. The dream finished with me looking down on the box as it rose above the others and began available. I felt quite powerful and satisfied with myself, as though I’d done something to complete myself.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeevescent

The spinning never stops. Despite this, activities on Earth shift and a new day arrives. This one is May 7, 2024.

In Penn Hills, PA, we all awaken to light rain and 50 degrees F. Rain is expected to command the day. Cloud cover makes me think, yes, that’s going to happen. But the weather seers say that it’ll be 79 F before Penn Hills is spun away from facing Sol today.

Mom had a rough day yesterday. ‘Bowel matters’, you know? Apparently drained her pretty well — that pun is totally inadvertent — as she napped through the afternoon. I’d ordered Echo Pops for her house so we can use her Alexa as an intercom. That will end the need for her and Frank to bellow across the domicile at one another. Alexa can also be used to call others, including an ambulance. As Alexa is voice activated, if they fall and can’t get up, they can still call for help.

The Pops were a breeze to set up. Three were added to the system. At less than $20 each, they seem like a simple and inexpensive intercom solution. Because issue will be conditioning Mom and Frank to use them.

I’m at the coffee shop now. I’ve established a basic routine. Up a 7:45. Mediation, exercise, dress. Out the door to the coffee shop. Back before noon.

Mom and Frank are usually sleeping until tennish. Incidents in the night frequently break their sleep. Mom gets out of bed, dresses and comes downstairs by noon. I relieve Frank. He takes off to visit his family and work out at the gym. I visit with Mom, make her ‘breakfast’, and help her with her needs. Breakfast is marked like that because it’s usually after one before she wants to eat.

It’s a crowded coffee shop today, so I’m in my spaceship fantasy, where we’re not a planet hurtling through space, but a human made machine destined for a new planet.

Today’s song has unknown origins in my morning mental music stream (Trademark confused). The Neurons ordered up “Little Miss Can Be Wrong”. They’re treating their reasoning for that song choice as double top-secret closehold information.

Not that I mind the song. Released by the Spin Doctors in 1992, it’s energetic and beaty. Not bad music to be revolving over and over and over again in your mind, right, right?

Coffee is being inhaled. Be strong, stay cool and positive, and Vote Blue n 2024. That’s my current plan. Here’s the music. Cheers

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We Got It All

First came a blind cane tapping, tentative, sporadic, all over. Rain.

Studying the morass of oncoming darkening clouds, I stepped out and waited. Rain drops pecked my cheek, patted my hair, skipped off my arm. I waited.

A wind rushed through the trees like an animal unleashed back to the wilderness and scurried past me. The storm cleared the high distant hills with a ragged announcement of thunder. I waited.

More urgent drops approached They were serious about maintaining a constant dispersal rate and issued warning I was going to get wet. I waited.

The full regiment of rain galloped toward me. Thunder burst loose of its binds. Lightning ripped across the clouds. More thunder chased it with heavy energy. And the rain and wind came with a howling spirit, striking my clothes and skin, posting goosebumps on my flesh.

And I stayed.

It was a classic Pittsburgh thunderstorm.

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