He read the headline and then the story.
Yes, because things were going so well for the planet’s humanity. A zombie virus is the perfect addition.
Slideday’s Theme Music
We continue with a shrinkage problem here in Ashlandia. Yes, the snow patches are holing and shrinking. Snow repair teams were sent in yesterday. Although they worked with demonic intensity, it was slapdash, thin in many places, and the snow continues to disappear.
It’s Friday, March 3, 2023 — 030323 — in Ashlandia. Call it Slideday, though. Came up with that decades ago as I noticed bosses and organizations often let things slide on Friday. “We’ll pick it up Monday.” Unless customer orders, hard delivery dates, or the end of quarter/end of year was underway. Then you work until it’s done, damn the day of the weak.
Sun’s presence struck Ashlandia at 6:43 this AM. Starting at 26 F, the temperature climbed to 32 F and will go on to 42 F today. A weather monitor told us on TV last night that our average daytime high temperatures are hanging about ten degrees below normal. Ashlandia will see sunset at 6:03 this evening. Stretched white clouds sail a faint blue sky. Sunshine smiles on it.
Got a favorite song in the morning mental music stream. Reading the news inspired The Neurons to dig up an old political ditty performed by this Brit group, The Who. No, not the Guess Who?. Told the tale of Mom buying this album for me when I employed it as a theme song back in 2017, so I won’t belabor that aspect. I cranked up the stereo for “Won’t Get Fooled Again” back in 1971. Hard to believe that was just 52 years ago. Seems like just 20 years ago.
Stay pos and seize the slideday. I’m seizing the coffee. It’s a start, right? Carpe caffeine. Here’s the memory music.
Cheers
Monday’s Wandering Thought
Ashlandia’s Little Libraries are being emptied. People are stealing the books and selling them online. A person has been seen doing it. Elder white male, they describe, with a white beard and a green jacket. Doesn’t really narrow the field in Ashlandia, which has a population stacked with elderly white males with white beards. He was driving an older red Subaru, which figures; Subarus are as numerous as grass in Ashlandia.
The crime isn’t limited to Ashlandia. Stealing the books raises questions. The books are free and there to be taken. So can they be stolen?
My answer is that when you go through town and empty a dozen Little Libraries and take all the books and sell them online, you’re violating the spirit. I guess you can’t be charged and convicted for that, though.
Flurrsday’s Theme Music
Sunrise’s 0650 arrival showed us, flurries. They’re on the smallish side but they’re earnest. With the thermometer flailing at 33 degrees F, the flurries pile up. But it all melts when they take a pause. Most be demoralizing to work so hard, dropping millions of flakes and yet see no appreciable accumulation.
It’s Monday. Feb. 27, 2023, the NTL day of February, in case you’ve not been told that February has twenty-eight days this year. Children are walking, school buses are running, parents are dropping off students and zipping off for errands, work, exercise classes. My wife went off to the last.
Sunset is due at 5:58 PM. The weather whizzes tell us 40 F is Ashlandia’s high temperature expectation.
The cats are amfloofvalent about the snow. Tucker looks out without comment. Papi demands freedom. Released to the back yard, he zips around through the flurries to the front porch and demands permission to come back in. He knows Oregon weather at this time of year, so he expects it to change, but it’s not happening as fast as he’d like. I suggest he sit down, maybe have a cup of coffee and observe the weather through the window. He replies, “Meeep.” It’s his trademark sound. That was his name. He’s sometimes referenced as the floof formerly known as Meep.
Meep and Tucker did eat in the same room this morning. That’s a remarkable achievement. Maybe flooftente is thawing. They’ve only lived together for six years. It takes time.
Tucker is doing better with his hind section but still can’t jump. Appetite is much improved, though. We took a risk last week. Bought a twenty-five pound bag of kibble from Costco. Tucker is very discriminating about what he’ll eat, like a child eyeing whatever is offered. Papi is more liberal with what he puts in his mouth. He’s like, “Food! Yes!” Chomp chomp. Neither of them like anything with sweet potato in it. The purchased food is chicken and rice.
Well, Tucker leaped into the new food with gusto. Emptied his kibble bowl and then pulled over the bag to paw out more. See? Improved appetite.
In dispiriting news from around the U.S., Republicans keep pushing to pull books from schools and libraries. Fear, you know. What will their blessed offspring learn? God, what will they see? Might see nekkid people. May even discover that everyone poops. In the name of the holy bible, we can’t have that. They much prefer blinders on their little ones.
They’re playing, “Let’s pretend.” Let’s pretend that people don’t identify differently from the genders we think they are. There are only two, you know. That’s what Jesus said, and the disciples agreed with them to a man. Let’s pretend that slavery was a good thing and that racism doesn’t exist. Thus it is that books may not reference sex, racism, slavery, and other things that make certain people ill. See, it’s only certain people pushing these agendas, a terrified vocal minority.
Okay, end snark.
Was pleased with the SAG results last night, as far as Everything Everywhere All at Once winning four honors. I enjoyed the movie and thought it deserving. Didn’t see many of the other movies, so I don’t know if my opinion is relevant.
BTW, just finished a novel, Legends and Lattes by Travis Baltree. Cited as high fantasy, and featuring a Orc swordswoman as the protagonist, it’s almost like a cozy, but it’s an entertaining and clever send-up of coffee houses as well. My wife found it and passed it on to me after she enjoyed it. I recommend it if you’re looking for a light read.
After a raucous dream night, I have “Bang!” playing on the morning mental music stream loud system. AJR released it a few years ago. It’s an interesting ditty, not about Jack and Diane, but about adulting, being responsible, like moving to your own place, filing taxes, and trying to remember a password.
Stay pos. The oaties have been eaten — they were of a sweet variety today, with brown sugar and blackberries. I have coffee at hand. Sips have been consumed. I am a go. Here’s the music. Pretend you know this song.
Cheers
Tuesday’s Theme Music
7 AM. I open the blinds because I know sunrise was at 6:59.
No sun. Droves of fat flakes lash the window and veil the world. It’s 37 degrees F so it’s not sticking.
I meander through the house TCB. An hour later, I’m at the kitchen window. 37 F. Sunny as Florida.
Florida comes to mind because my wife spoke with her sister yesterday. Sis lives in Florida. She was in her pool. 80 F.
Back in Ashlandia, ten minutes later, it’s dark and gloomy. Low clouds hide the mountains.
It’s 37 F.
This is Tuesday, February 21, 2023. Winting rules Ashlandia. Weather sages tell us the high will be 42 degrees F later today, then we’ll drop into the twenties for the night. Snow is expected to fall after sunset at 5:51 PM.
10 AM. It’s a broken blue and white sky. No sunshine.
Papi, the ginger marvel, has been galloping around the house, wailing to be let outside, beating on windows to come back in. He is not a fan of winting weather.
I have “Jumper” (1997), Third Eye Blind, looping through the morning mental music stream. The cause mystifies me. The Neurons must have something in mind but they’re not telling me. Behind the song was a story of a high school committing suicide after being bullied about their sexual identity. The song was played for Republicans in 2015 at the convention to protest the GOP’s anti-LGBT positions.
Stay pos. Enjoy the weather as best as you can. It’s almost sunny here now. No, wait, clouds have skated in. It’s snowing. No, it stopped. Look, it’s sunny.
Here’s the tune. Where is my coffee?
Here comes the snow. Cheers
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Winting continues to ride Ashlandia, where the children are above average. Snow is melted in the valley’s bosom but look east and snow royally caps the mountainsides. It’s up to 27 F on the way to a 47 degrees F high. Sunshine, vaulting over the horizon like an arriving hero at 7:06 this morning, bullets a blue sky. 5:43 PM will be seen on the clock as the sun does it slow roll exit. It’s February 15, 2023.
My cats are happy with the sunshine but they’re not fond of those low temps. Tucker acted like he was going out but feeling that air on his heavy fur, did and an about face and floofered off. Papi, of course, galloped out per his secret identity, “The Galloping Ginger”, and then banged the door windows for re-admittance sharpish minutes later.
Plans are being planned for house painting, carpet cleaning, and those sort of matters, along with vacation. Yardwork is being given a gimlet eye. Our evening streaming rotates among Hacks, The Last of Us, Frayed, Shrinking, Lockwood and co, Station Eleven, CB Strike, and Astrid. Documentaries and comedy shows are sprinkled in as they become available. No puzzles are being assembled, with no plans to do any. K continues on her diet, pleased with her results. Makes the kitchen an interesting evening experience as we prepare our individual meals. Burners, oven, microwave going, timers ping, buzz, and chime. We dance around each other, plates, foods, and utensils in hand.
Today’s theme music is “Bullet the Blue Sky” by U2 out of 1987. Th Neurons delivered as I read a summary of gun violence in America, 2023. Can’t say it hasn’t changed this year as the rate of shootings increases. Fortunately, naught will be done because needless death is not as important as other matters.
Got coffee, and released Papi back into the sun-soaked rear yard. Stay pos, and own Wednesday. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Monday’s Theme Music
I listened to Alexi’s report. My wife joined me. We were at the breakfast bar, where Alexa nests. “What she say?” my wife asked. I asked Alexa for the weather again.
She finished her report. My wife and I checked the windows. East, south, west. Alexa had said it was mostly sunny. “I don’t see any sunshine,” K said. So it wasn’t just me.
It’s Monday, Feb. 13, 2023. Not a speck of sun is visible past the battleship sky. 34 F out, we anticipate rain and clouds all day and a mid-40s high. Sunrise was at 7:11 this morning and sunset will come at 5:41 PM. Snow warnings are out for tomorrow.
Taxes were filed yesterday. Bedding washed. Smelling the fresh bedding as I climbed into bed summoned childhood experiences. Mom would tuck us in and say, “I washed your sheets today. Smell them. Don’t they smell fresh?” I would do as directed and smell the sheets, and agree, they smelled fresh, like sunshine and wind.
I watched Superbowl LVII, which makes me think, liver. That was Superbowl Liver. Just a weird brain tick. KC Chiefs won, and no serious injuries were reported, so far. K was pleased that KC won. She thinks Mahomes is a cutie pie. She didn’t watch because she didn’t want to jinx him.
From the Superbowl, via The Neurons, I have Huey Lewis and the News singing, “If This Is It” from 1984. The Chiefs lined up for a field goal to take the lead. Eleven seconds left. “This is it,” the announcer said on Fox. “Playing ‘If This Is It’ by Huey Lewis and the News’,” The Neurons said. And so it still plays in the morning mental music stream, and I pass it on to you. Not a bad theme song. It’s Monday – if this is it, fill in the blank.
Stay positive. Cats returned from their outdoor recon. They report that it’s cold and there’s no sunshine. “Tell that to Alexa,” I tell them. “She needs the input.” Reporting live from Ashlandia, here’s the music. Cheers
Friday’s Theme Music
Friday touched down with a gentle burst of smoke from the tires. It’s Feb. 10, 2023. The heat and humidity closed in on my imaginary self. My real self warmed from the furnace’s gentle efforts.
Friday is happy. 37 F out, the Friday plans to entertain Ashlandia with some rain and a high temperature of 52 F. Everything is working to plan for Friday, with the sun breaking out at 7:14 this morning under the shadowy cover which Friday prefers this month. Sundown is established to happen at 5:47. Yesterday cracked 60 in my zone, so let’s hear it for Fourday.
I and mine made it alive to another morning again. No zombies or cougars got my family or cats, nor did severe weather, fire, or earthquakes, so that’s a win. “No More Tears” by Ozzy Osbourne (1991) was in the morning mental music stream, strategically entrenched by The Neurons after I read about Ozzy’s health issues and his declaration, no more tours. Tour morphed into tears in The Neurons’ hands, and here we are. It’s a hard driving song, good for this day. Its lyrics and wordplay fit today’s patina of existent too well for it to not be Friday’s theme music in Feb., 2023.
Stay pos. Enjoy some good coffee. I will, thanks. Have a most excellent Friday, as we used to say in another thread of being. Cheers
Fourday’s Theme Music
Today is Thursday, commonly known as day four of the standard work week. Maybe that’s a used-to-be. Could be different in this 24/7 existence which supposedly rules the U.S. I say supposedly because there are many things not available 24/7. They claim it’s a 24/7 news cycle. We know that’s not true. Politicians and corporations love them a Friday dump because they know that news garners less attention.
I favor using Fourday in honor of Thursday’s tentative origins. Back when the days of the week were being conceptualized, many people wanted to name the days by their order. Weeks weren’t even involved in the first round of thought. Today would have been Nineday because it’s February 9. (2023, BTB). That was rightly criticized as not helpful. Imagine the conversation. “When do you want to get together?” “Nineday, February 9.” Doesn’t add much does it? That’s when the great thinker and philosopher, Whathehellus, stepped up and came up with the days we now use. Whathehellus is also famous for giving us the expression, “What the hell?” Why else do you think we use it?
48 F out in Ashlandia at the mo, cold air bleached warm by rousing sunshine. Solar light splashes in through windows throughout the house’s east and south sides, invoking delightful coziness. 56 F is due up as the high, according to the weather seers. No reason why that won’t be attained can be seen right now, but you know weather and clouds, don’t you? Weather and Clouds, once a proud Brit rock band, now just surfs the sky causes mischief. W&C, as some call them, had their most notable hit with “Shadowing Your Day”, back in the day.
Sol’s presence was noted at 7:15 this morning. Sol will be left out by the world’s ongoing spin at 5:36 PM. Those times are only good for Ashlandia. Your times will vary.
The Neurons planted a couple songs in the morning mental music stream. They’re related. It started with irritation with Papi, our ginger floof. He was going in and out and in and out times three. Poor little one was restless and bored. Naturally, The Neurons responded with The Who, “Squeezebox”, from 1975. But when I finally forced myself awake and out of bed, “Real World” by Matchbox Twenty (1998) was brought up by The Neurons, cause there’s this line, “I wish the real world would just stop hassling me.
Okay, coffee has been consumed (black with a shot of whiskey, of course), as well as brekkie. Time to go write and rule. Stay pos, and make Fourday the best one you can. Here’s the theme music. Cheers
The Time-Travel Device Dream
I’d noted before that Papi, my ginger-flavored housefloof, picks 6:37 AM to demand — again — to be let out. This is true plus or minus a minute each time. I meantion ‘again’ because he’s usually been in and out three of four times by then.
Now 6:37 probably isn’t early to many. It used to be non-early to me. Military, I worked shifts on and off for fifteen years. Day shifts often started between 6 AM and 7 AM at most locations, depending on our mission, so rising early was regular. My Space Command days, though, I was a superintendent and then the QAF advisor and made my hours. I always chose to be in by 7 AM, and I carried that forward after retirement, when I began work for a corporation.
All that’s dream background. In the dream, I decide to investigate whether it was true that Papi always wanted out at that time, and further, what the orange wonder did when he went out then. So, there I am, peering down on the world, zeroing in on my house, through the roof to my bedroom. Here comes Papi. I check the time and confirm it. He just goes outside, sits and washes, looks around, nothing special. Good, that’s one day but I need to check more.
Someone else there tells me, “You want to use our time machine?” I never see the others but I know that three are present.
I reply, “You have a time machine?”
“Yes, we use to go back and find the truth of what happened so that it can be properly documented.”
Yes, I’m floored. “Sure, I’d like to use that.”
I can see the other’s hands and arms at this point. All are wearing white gloves and a black coat. They give me a small black box, rectangular, maybe four inches by two inches by one. Blue numbers are on its front. I see labels for months, time, year. “Just put in the particulars which you want and it’ll take you there. You can’t interact at all but you can observe.”
Doing as directed, my instructors realize that I’m going back one day at a time and explain how I can do it more efficiently by using a little scroll control to the side. I can designated how I want to scroll, by year, day, hour, etc. So I play with it, confirming that Papi has been asking to be let out at that hour and minute for some time.
I finish with that exploration and give it back. “This is really useful,” I say. “It’d be great if I could go back and see what happened during other times, with other people.”
“Oh, you can do that,” one answers. “You can use it whenever you want. Just let us know.”
Dream end
