Get out your cards and markers. Time for daily bingo.
Wednesday. November. Thirty. Twenty twenty-two. Sunrise. Seven nineteen. Forty-one degrees F. Forty-six degrees F. Sunshine. Clear skies. Rain. Sunset. Four forty.
We have a bingo. Congratulations, sir. Here is your coffee.
Winds are blustering like a lying politician trying to distract everyone from their crimes. Our backyard flowering pear is shedding its golden leaves by the binful, turning the back land into a golden carpet. All around town, the leaves in the trees are switching to the same brown shade, beautiful in its own manner. Naked tree branches stretch toward sunshine and spring’s promise as a November day full of autumn hails the oncoming winter.
A dream provided The Neurons with today’s morning mental music stream selection. “Hold Me Now” by the Thompson Twins was released in 1983 and became a hit in many places. It also was used to end a dream last night. So, it comes up now as today’s music selection.
I have my coffee, thanks, courtesy of winning daily bingo. Stay pos, test neg, etc. Try to live a good life. Make moments count. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Hard frost whitens bare ground. It’s 31 F (yeah, you know what that is in C) and sunny. Gorgeous, really, with a preternaturally blue sky. Our backyard’s flowering pear still houses branches full of leaves, but they’ve gone lemony yellow. The sunshine striking its upper reaches really brings the color to life.
It’s Tuesday, the twenty-ninth of November in the common era year 2022. Sunrise came at 7:18 AM. Sunset is planned by the forces of nature to finish daylight at 4:40 PM. In between, the temperature will rise into the forties and it might run. There aren’t any clouds so I have a jaundiced view to that but then again, weather.
I have “Heavy Is the Head” by the Zac Brown Band with the late Chris Cornell filling the morning mental music stream. The 2015 song reminds me of something in the late sixties/early seventies era of classic rock that might have originated with Black Sabbath, without the finer lead guitar Sabbath’s Iommi brought. I didn’t hear HItH much on the radio back in ’15 but heard it on television while I was traveling and stopping at places, which seemed weird. But it stuck. The Neurons brought it up today because I was teasing my number one cat after number two cat took a swipe at him, talking about how hard it is to be number one and rule the house. Heavy is the crown on that furry black and white head, which led to the song.
Stay pos, test neg, etc. Have a most excellent Tuesday, as they say. Time to say hello to a cuppa joe and shift the morning into a higher gear. Here’s the music.
The furnace is running. It’s 36 F (2.2 C) outside, not so bad while you’re inside, where it’s sixty-eight. No sunshine through the windows, even after I opened the blinds and curtains, and the daylight is tentative. A mottled grey field meets my eyes when I turn them skyward. Autumn is finally surrendering its grip. Nude trees wave and bow.
It’s Monday, November 28, 2022, November’s final Monday. By the week’s midpoint, we’ll be in 2022’s final month. Winter is closing in with increased speed, having already arrived early in some places. But then, the calendar gives us an average. It’s different around the world, even in the northern hemes. South of the equator, summer is coming.
42 F and rain and snow showers will play for the afternoon. The sun delivered the daylight portion at 7:16 AM and the performance ends at 4:41 PM.
“Skin Deep” by Buddy Guy is playing in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons lured it out of memory last night when I was thinking about racism and prejudice and the insanity of it all. This song was offered as part of the Playing for Change series in 2018. I admire the project, and Buddy Guy is one of my favorite blues performers. Beyond Buddy, there’s other impressive singers and musicians coming together from diverse locations to present us this music, including several choirs. Hope you’ll take a listen.
Stay positive, test negative and do what’s needed to protect yourself, family, and community. You know, like masking to keep the spread down. Coffee is here so I shall retire to the solace of a cup. Here’s the music. I’m going to listen again. Cheers
The window of opportunity for Sunday 11/27/2022, has opened. By the numbers 7:15, 39 F, 49 F, 4:42. That would be AM sunrise, current temperature under an off-gray sky, today’s high, and to close the day, sunset this evening. Snow warnings are issued for later this week but we’re not expecting anything like what hit New York earlier this month. Old photographs of the digital type remind me that we’ve had snow in October and November before, always wet, heavy stuff that didn’t stick around for longer than a fruit fly’s life.
We’re celebrating another friend. We learned yesterday that she passed on Wednesday night. An artist with three sons, she was 96. I’ve only known her for sixteen years, since she was eighty, but she enthralled me with stories about growing up in Klamath, OR. Her late teens had her decide to move to San Francisco to study art. She went to school and lived the life, falling in love, marrying, moving to Sunnyvale, raising three sons while zipping around in a red Triumph sports car. There were trips to New York and Broadway plays, and then her husband’s death, and her return to Oregon. All that happened before she was fifty. I so loved talking to her and enjoyed her spirit. Her mind had slowly trickled away in its abilities, leaving her puzzled about people’s identities and what was going on, and disassembling her ability to paint and write, but she always shared a fantastic smile. Her youngest son has been taking care of her for the last ten years in her house on the hill. Art and laughter used to fill it. It had become more and more silent in the last two years.
The microwave has gone offline again. I did the usual tricks to restore but they resulted in a no-go. So, a deeper, more prolonged process of troubleshooting and repair. So, in case I thought I might have some free time, I don’t.
I saw a bumper sticker yesterday, oh boy. “Give me something to believe in.” read the label on the scratched light blue Volkswagen Beetle. The Neurons immediately kicked “Something to Believe In” by Poison from 1990. It’s a soft rock ballad about losses and inequities. As relevant today as it was back in 1990, noting the TV charlatans living in mansions, driving luxury cars and scamming money from people as the homeless crises rises. Bret Michaels wrote the song and was mourning the loss of friends as he wrote it and felt it when he sang it. You should check out the words.
Stay positive and test negative. Enjoy some fresh air, sunshine, and beauty where you find it. Coffee has been consumed, and more will be consumed. Here’s the music. Cheers
First, the setting. Tepid sunshine behind a peeling gray sky. Autumn colors are flattered by the gray sky but some trees have gone bare, as though they’ve lost the plot. Tree branch tips and bushes feebly wave good morning to me. Dark spots tell on the remaining dampness and that sky isn’t one that invites me into a warm embrace.
I think, it’s Saturday. Or is that, I think it’s Saturday? The Thanksgiving milestone has passed. It’s November 26, right? 2022. December is coming, along with 2023.
It’s 44 F now, chilly not cold, with a high of 55 probable. Sunrise licked us with light at 7:14 this morning. Daylight’s tail end will flick by at 4:42 PM.
My morning mental music stream is enlivened by The Cars with “Moving in Stereo” from 1978. Came upon me during the clothes wearing operation, the part when I thought about what to wear and made choices and decided, that works, except not those shoes. With little pause for contemplation, The Neurons had me humming, “Life’s the same, I’m moving in stereo. Life’s the same except for my shoes.” Then the whole song rolled in. Not a bad way to roll.
Yeah, coffee is almost half gone. Not real happy with the clothes choices because Thanksgiving. Oof. Stay positive, test negative, and enjoy your November Saturday. Here’s the music. Later, Vader.
No reason but whimsical demons to call this Fried-day.
It is Black Fried-day, though. Hearing shoppers declare themselves fried or exhausted today after a day of shopping would be about a one on the surprise scale that ends in ten on the high end.
Today is 11/25/2022. My friendsgiving (never sure if I should capitalize that word) was comfortable and satisfying. Smaller than planned, just twelve, but excellent conversation and a spread of food worthy of a feast. Hope you had a similarly rewarding day yesterday. Let’s do it again today.
Many will be doing it again today, because leftovers. More need not be said except I hope no one wastes food and that some is shared with the less fortunate. No one should be going hungry if we were socialized and organized right. There is more to say about it all, but it’s all been said.
Beautiful weather graced us yesterday but Gloomy Gus has taken Fried-day. Sun had a moment about an hour after its 7:13 AM rise but then Gus sprayed gray over the shine. Whether Gus will have his way with the sun until daylight’s departure at 1642 is open for betting. Currently between 3 and 4 C, a high of 55 F is possible. As always with the weather, politics, and the economy, we shall see.
Black Fried-Day has The Neurons circulating “D’You Know What I Mean?” by Oasis, 1997. This came about from listening to small knots of conversation and overhearing someone in each knot at least once rhetorically flourish, “Do you know what I mean?” Cogitating as part of the greater reflection process done later, that aspect amused me, along with hearing, “litte tiny” mentioned and “I was thinking to myself”. Those phrases always make The Neurons giggle, so they brought up the song. There were other songs with similar titles heard in the mental music stream for a bit but this one won the morning portion.
Stay pos and test neg. Enjoy your Fried-day as much as I enjoy this cuppa coffee which is about to meet my lips. Gotta go read a book, a highly entertaining tome called “Network Effect” by Martha Wells. Due back at the library tomorrow. Here’s the tune. Stay chilled.
This is it, the fourth Thursday of November, Thanksgiving in the U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt signed a Congressional proclamation declaring this is what we were going to do as a nation going forward. Before that, Thanksgiving was all over the place, sort of like Elon Musk and Twitter, an agent of chaos and close to unpredictable.
It’s November 24, 2022. Feels like spring is visiting autumn outside. Recognizing sunshine, the cats wanted out immediately. Their eagerness was rewarded by calm air hovering around 56 F on its way to a 65 F high. Gadzooks, what a treat. Sunshine invaded at a little before the 7:12 AM sunrise. Sunshine will hang out until 4:43 PM.
Thanksgiving is a day of deep planning for many families. Traditions are observed, new ones established. Martyrs are born as people go to extremes to satisfy their Thanksgiving commitments. Warnings are a newer Thanksgiving tradition as people point out which foods are vegan, gluten-free, vegetarian, or contains eggs, dairy, or nuts. Mom and my sisters do Thanksgiving up, going over-the-top with their food. There’s turkey with stuffing and all the American food staples associated with that through the years of Thanksgiving, but also pasta dishes to honor the Italian side. Dessert and treats? My god, yes. Apple pie, and pumpkin, along with cookies, pretzels and chips, cheese trays with crackers and bread, relish trays, and, yes, cake and cheesecake. Leftovers are eaten for a week. Some things are frozen and eaten later in the year.
My wife and I celebrate Friendsgiving with a group. We’ve been doing this for a while and it’s become our Ashland tradition. I’m looking forward to it, as friends that I’ve not seen in months will be there. I enjoy their company and catching up with their news.
A friend of ours is breaking her tradition this year. She loves Thanksgiving and plays hostess to her extended family every year. This year, though, her newly married son invited her and hubby to his in-laws’ Thanksgiving celebration, an enthusiastically accepted invitation, with just one hitch: part of his new family’s Thanksgiving tradition is a visit to the family spa in the nude. About that, she is not enthusiastic. She is seventy years old and a radical mastectomy survivor. She’s not excited about others viewing her nakedness, age and mastectomy or not. She’s just not one to share her nakedness. We understand. As my wife said to, “Hell to the no. Nobody outside of you is seeing my body.” That’s a position she’s held since she was a little girl.
Today’s music comes out of a car ride yesterday. The song is called “Classic” by Cam and came out in 2020. There are lines in it which we enjoy: “Johnny and June, Chevy light blue (They don’t make ’em like this anymore), Bette Davis, Yellow pages (They don’t make ’em like this anymore).” When we first heard it after its release, we laughed, went home and confirmed that we heard right.
Well, if you’re read this post before, you know that The Neurons liked that and have kept it going in the morning mental music stream this morning.
This is a late post. I’ve had my coffee, as I spent the first hours cleaning up and doing dishes after my wife did her cooking last night. Stay positive and test negative. Hope you have a day with an outcome worthy of giving thanks. Here’s Cam with “Classic”.
Wednesday came calling. I agreed to meet, have some coffee, see where the day drives us.
Thinking of the snowstorm that hit the northeastern U.S. Probably hit Canada, too, but when the U.S. is involved, news of other countries is often crowded out in my realm. Photos and videos are ripe click bait the last few days as stories about the snow’s depth piled up. Some people claim in comments, that’s Photoshop. It wasn’t that bad. Everything is questioned.
Misty damp gray dresses Wednesday here. It’s the day before Thanksgiving in the U.S., November 23, 2022. 38 F, with a shy sun and smirking clouds that hold the sky. The high temperature will be 52 F. For the record, sunrise and set are 7:11 AM and 7:43 PM.
Catching up on Mom news. I text her every morning. It’s about making her feel better. She changed bedspreads, washed the old stuff, put it in the storage bag and then into the closet. Live-in boyfriend helped. He’s 92, damn good shape. She meets with her doctor today to discuss her latest issue, the yokenella regensburgei. No growth after the five-day colony test. Nothing there. So. What to do, the doctors are debating. She meets with them today.
The Neurons have “Hypnotized” by Fleetwood Mac in the MMMS (TM pending). Not about being hypnotized, but the sentiment taken from the opening verses about the same old story. Reading news, déjà vu rakes the senses. I’ve been here before, not too long ago. The day is comfortable, but is that safe?
Other than that, preparing for our now almost traditional friendsgiving celebration. Spouse does almost all of our contribution. We’re being simple this year. I’ve prepared things in the past so we would both take something, but this year, she drew back and said, “I’m just doing deviled eggs and a cheese and cracker spread. We’ll also take a nice bottle of wine.” She’s in charge, so I replied, “Okay.” Be about eighteen people there, all vaxxed. Most have also had COVID. It’s at a farmhouse in the country. Hope it’s a clear night there, as I love standing in that empty space by their house, considering the stars.
Coffee is ready so Wednesday and I will have a cup, see what shakes out. Stay positive, test negative. Here’s the music. It’s Fleetwood Mac with Bob Welch. Bob wrote the song.
Clouds have descended on us. It’s like, ain’t no sunshine. There is daylight, with the sun brokering the current levels when it came into the southern end of our valley at 7:10. We’re the funnel piece here, where I-5’s traffic coming north from California is squeezed through a pass and down through the mountains, heading west before turning north toward Portland. The mountains spread away at our town’s edge.
It’s 38 F now. The weather masters tell us it’ll be cloudy all day, maybe rain, but we should see some sunlight later, as temperatures will trudge into the fifties, peaking at 55 F. Precipitation might strike the valley in the early evening, depending on how the clouds tango.
This is Tuesday, 11/22/2022, another of those days that get people excited with its numbers. “Look! Eleven. Twenty-two. It must mean something.” Maybe it does mean something beyond a calendar date, but that meaning hasn’t surfaced for me. But it is a youthful day yet, still getting its footing at nine AM. Maybe all will be revealed at a later hour.
Sunset will be arriving in less than eight hours, at 4:44 PM. Get busy, ’cause we’re losing daylight.
I have The Peripheral on my mind. Do you know this novel and the television series? William Gibson gave us the book a few years ago. I’m a fan, so I read it, dazzled again by his ideas when I finished it. Differences between novel and series fascinates me, as these things often do. I’ve gone through this with Dune, I, Robot, Sense and Sensibility, Foundation, Game of Thrones, and so many others. I experience annoyance at the differences but also respect that the differences are required to carry the story and clean it up for delivery by a different media. Movies — and television — and books are not the same. Adaptations require some sacrifices.
“Lady Marmalade” from 1974 by Labelle is cruising the mental music stream. I blame The Neurons but I also blame the wife. Of course, it started with The Neurons.
“Hey Soul Sister” by Train had been playing on my car stereo. Entering the house, I greeted my wife, “Hey, soul sister, how they hanging?”
She responded with the opening lyrics of “Lady Marmalade”, “Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister.” The Neurons answered, “Oh we know that song. It goes like this.” And it’s been going ever since.
Coffee time, yeah? Stay positive and test negative. Hope your weather is favorable and the news is good.
High white cirrus brush strokes marble the pale blue sky. Monday, November 11, 2022, begins with sunshine and 33 degrees F in my foot of the valley. Although autumn fashion still imbues most neighborhood, eau de winter fills the air. It’ll be 54 F today, and mostly sunny. Sunshine crept in at 7:08 this morning like a cat sneaking in through the pet door. The day’s final rays will grace us at 4:45 PM.
We’re planning our soups. Soups in winter is a household favorite. Post Thanksgiving, we’ll resume a soup a week. I listed my favorites. Top of the list is harvest soup, which is all roasted veggies with mushroom broth. Second is chicken white chili. Tortellini soup comes next. Black bean veggie chili fills the fourth slot followed by lentil in fifth. Nothing like soup and warm bread on cold days to fill you, and these are all healthy and filling. Their simmering fragrances are a lovely bonus.
Musically, The Neurons were influenced by another’s post. Jill shared a song by Mike +the Mechanics, “In the Living Years”. It traditionally makes me pause to consider my relationship with Dad. Not the best, nor the worse, but a damaged one and a fount for personal frustration. He and I try but there’s just too much piss in the snow to completed the connections. I’m from his first marraige but he has children and stepchildren from a few other marriages. Dad was in the military and finally living in the continental US when I was a teenager. Another one of Mom’s marriages was imploding so I took refuge with Dad. He married again in my high school senior year. I became an adult and was gone. You see how it is. He just celebrated his 90th birthday last month.
That song prompted memories of other M +tM songs. The Neurons began playing “Taken In” from their 1985 album. I had it on CD and played it while driving across the southeastern U.S. I did that a lot in that life era. While stationed at Shaw AFB in South Carolina, I deployed on temporary duty to Florida, Somalia, Egypt, and places in Europe. I’d drive to stateside places, but before deploying, I’d sometimes take my wife and cats up north to stay with her family, as I’d be gone a while, four to eight weeks. So there were the trips there and back to taker her home, and there and back to pick her up. I put 54,000 miles on the car in eighteen months. Besides music, I’d listen to books on cassette tapes from the library. They weren’t yet on CD in our base library. It was an interesting time of transition.
“Taken In” is a mellow song and was ideal as a vehicle to help past the day speeding down the highways. I’d never seen the video before, but I love the period touches — the phones, the clothing, the cars. Hope you enjoy the video and music.
Here we go. Got coffee and a plain blueberry bagel. A cat monitors my progress on my left. The other sleeps in another room, where sunshine slices in past the slats on the blinds, generating a cozy ambiance. Stay positive, test negative. Cheers