Category: Thinking, thinking

Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

While going to the coffee shop, I often pass a cemetery. Not surprising as Ashland has three.

This one is the original. Located just off East Main Street, it sits beside some of the town’s oldest neighborhoods, including the Railroad District.

I often glance at the cemetery while driving by, looking for deer. Deer often visit the cemetery, grazing and digesting between grave markers.

A few weeks ago, I noticed teenagers gathering in the cemetery. Once was a curiosity, twice was a surprise, three times is a trend. They did this for several weeks, regardless of sunshine, freezing fall, or rain and drizzle.

We’re not addressing a few teens; usually ten to eighteen gather, typically a few minutes after eleven AM. I wonder, what’s going on there, and at what grave are they gathering?

Here’s the kicker, though. School is out for the winter break. The children are not gathering. Instead, that same gravestone was host to five deer. I kid you not.

I really need to stop by and see the name on that grave.

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

Greetings on Satyrda, December 27, 2025. They said it’d be cold and we’d have snow. No snow but it was 38 degrees F, sort of cold. Sunshine is leaking in around clouds stretching a flimsy chain across blue sky. A high somewhere in the 40s is anticipated.

My stepmother texted last night. Dad has taken a bad turn. He was found on the floor, communicative and awake but confused. That was Wednesday. His wife is talking to professionals about whether Dad should go into hospice. She is due to receive an update and then will text me to call her so I can learn the latest.

I sent Mom and Dad holiday cards and letters. My sister read Mom her card and letter from me; my stepmother read Dad his card and letter from me. Neither Mom nor Dad could open their cards on their own. Dad lives in Texas and Mom lives in Pennsylvania. The parallel path of their decline fascinates and depresses me.

Dad has been married to my stepmother for over thirty years. It’s his third marriage. As Dad’s health has declined, my stepmother’s children visit him and care for him, just as my sisters visited Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, and cared for him before he died. Life’s complexities and layers are rich and interesting.

Sis wrote that she hosted Christmas celebrations on Thursday and Friday. Half the family came on one day and the other half came the next door. She said that worked out much better than having the whole tribe there at the same time.

With dreams of homes and families and news of family percolating, it’s not surprising that The Neurons chose a song about houses for the morning mental music stream. Today, it’s “Our House” by Madness.

As I wrote this post, my wife told me of some factoids she just read. Back in 1950, the average starter home in the U.S. was less than 1,000 square feet with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. Now the average starter home is considered 2500 square feet with walk in everything and vaulted ceilings and fireplaces, kitchen, dining room, and breakfast nook. And fewer people seem able to afford starter homes in 2025.

Then I went off to dress to go out to write. My wife and I talked about it, how, while waiting to call my stepmother for an update, I was planning to go write. I shrugged. “The beat goes on.” And that’s why we have a twofer theme music offering for today. The Neurons immediately supplanted “Our House” with Sonny and Cher singing “The Beat Goes On”.

Hope peace and grace come by to present you some comfort. I’m off to the writing races once again. Cheers

5

The House Dream

Been a while since I’ve dreamed about houses. Such dreams are always in conjunction with family.

I was visiting my wife’s family house. It no longer exists, as it was torn down after her mother was moved to assisted living. That was a sad thing in itself, to have a dwelling lived in for almost fifty years broken down and hauled away. She died about seven years ago.

In this dream, I knew it was her parents’ house even though it wasn’t like the real place. My wife and I were both young and visiting. Two women I didn’t know were there but nobody else.

The four of us were bored. I opened a drawer and found a deck of cards. We decided to play ‘King on the corner’. After we drew our cards, the person with the highest card would go first. I announced I had the king of diamonds. Someone else announced they had the king of spades. I then saw that I also had the ace of diamonds. Everyone agreed I should go first.

I took my turn, drawing a card. Play progressed and I realized that I’d screwed up because I hadn’t put down my cards. Someone put a king on the corner. I saw it was a king of diamonds. That couldn’t be because I had that card, which I pointed out. We realized that we had more than one deck. Upset with that, we abandoned the card playing.

Then we were just talking when the phone rang. I thought it could be my father-in-law calling. He’d passed away back in December of 1991.

It was him on the phone. He said, “Tell them I’m on my way home.”

I asked, “When do you think you’ll be here?”

But the line was dead. I told the others what had happened. They responded, “We need to clean up.” They jumped up and left the room to go down the hall.

I followed them. The rest of the house wasn’t anything like her parents’ house and I said so. Then we came to a part of it where there were two businesses on the right-hand side. That blew me away. Businesses in the house? That made no sense.

I gathered the businesses were an ice cream stand and a coffee and sandwich shop. Young women were at serving windows in both. I didn’t know either. My wife spoke to one. She revealed we’d gone to school with them. I didn’t remember her, but she claimed she remembered me.

The others had gone off. I walked around on my own and discovered my mother-in-law’s room. I went in and knew it but also knew it was different. My wife called out, “Mom’s here.” I eagerly went to greet her.

Instead of my MIL, another man entered, arms out with a large smile. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Although I didn’t recognize him, I said, “Good to see you, too.”

We hugged. Then he said, “I notice you looking at my feet.”

I’d not noticed his feet, but he continued, “They’re new, but they screwed them up.”

I looked at his feet. They were sticking straight out to the sides. I also noticed puddles of pee on the floor and realized that he’d peed himself.

He said, “Can you tell me where the bathroom is? I need to take a dump.”

I pointed him in the right direction and rushed off.

I joined up with my wife, her older sister, and my neice. We continued to the house’s front. It was wildly different than before. The front porch, driveway, big oak tree, and flowering rhododendrons were gone. It was now more like a Monet painting. Amazed and staring, I said, “This is completely different. When did this happen?”

Oh, a long time ago, the others replied, dismissing it. They went out of the house to a little shop, flooring me that a little shop was there and that they were aware of it. This place was where the long driveway used to be, and sold purses and jewelry. My wife and the others knew the owner and went in and talked to them and looked around.

I went off to explore the new place. As I did, a long, gleaming gold car with bright chrome wheels arrive. I thought, that can’t be my father-in-law.

It wasn’t. It was some stranger who parked and walked away in a different direction. Beyond the parked car was a raging muddy river. I picked my way across it to see what was on the other side. A scarlet rooster began following me around. As I went to go back, the rooster jumped on my lower leg and hung on.

It was starting to get dark. I kicked the rooster off my leg and heard it land in the water but couldn’t see it because it had become so dark. Now I worried that I wouldn’t be able to cross because of the light. Hearing splashing, I realized the rooster had made it safely back, which relieved me.

The darkness suddenly lifted enough that I could see where I was. I hurried back across the river.

End.

4

Fridaz Wandering Thoughts

I’m reflecting on life lessons again as 2025 closes. These are the important lessons I keep returning to.

  1. All food is not the same.
  2. What you can eat and works for you is unique to you.
  3. Your body will change based on what it’s taking in.
  4. You will also change as you age.

Observing our society, we in the U.S. don’t do well with teaching, learning, or sharing these lessons. People will often say something like, “Well, that’s what my parents always ate, and their parents for that matter, so it’ll be fine for me.” The attitude assumes you’re exactly like them. It also assumes the food you’re consuming is exactly the same food they consumed twenty years ago or more. A good chance exists you’re not exactly like them, even if you are their spitting image.

Odds are high, too, that the food being put before you is different from what they were eating. Genetic modifications of our foods are more common in this century. More chemicals are utilized in the growing and processing systems. The end results are often highly processed food.

I’ve noticed that I can’t tolerate the food and quantity of foods that I could in my youth. But it’s not an even change. My metabolism has slowed. Some foods still work great, and I’m happy to eat them. My body treats certain other foods as hostile invaders. Cheese, for example. Much as I love it, my biome is less happy when it comes in. And coffee. I’ve cut way back on coffee and cheese, to name two victims of my changing body.

I learned another clear lesson early: sodium is my body’s arch enemy. I’m constantly on guard against it. Sodium is linked to high blood pressure.

That translated to hydrating more and using less salt, and being on guard against sodium in processed foods.

But I was mystified. So many others easily and often ate processed foods. Salt was briskly shaken over their meals and yet, they didn’t have high blood pressure.

It was only later that I learned about my Vagus nerve’s reaction to how sodium is handled as part of my parasympathetic nervous system. This is why others can eat sodium without problems while my body tells me to leave salt alone.

I’ve compiled more understanding of the Vagus nerve’s role. Such insights are valuable. But our bodies are dynamic. Paying attention and learning about changes aids me when I wonder about gaining weight or energy levels. It’s empowering and useful in this age to have the Internet to help me grasp the root of these changes.

They really didn’t address our bodies and food in much detail when I was educated. We were taught about food groups, balance, and the food pyramid. It wasn’t explained at all that people’s bodies react differently. That was left to us to learn for ourselves.

My education was over a half a century ago. I hope the system has changed and more people are learning these things. This is why I write about them for me, in the hope that others find it helpful.

Have a happy and healthy 2026. Cheers

4

Fridaz Theme Music

Hey, good morning, sunshine. It’s Frida, December 26, 2025. After a rainy night, the clouds shuffled aside and sunlight broke in on us. We were warned that snow might fall in the night. Peerings out the window provide no visuals that snow was encountered in our area.

My system says it’s 41 F outside. The net claims 38 F with light rain. Alexa claims 41 and cloudy. SOU marks it as 44 F. We’re basically in agreement, then, in a six degree range. That range makes sense. SOU is lower down and about a mile away. The location is subject to being foggy. If fog doesn’t show, it’s subject to being sunny. Projected highs aren’t far off with the given range as 43 to 46 degrees F.

We’re settling into the post-Christmas groove. I find this an odd period. People are coming down from the holiday high of eating, giving, and receiving. Schools are closed, as are some businesses. Others are forced to trudge back to work. It’s a Frida but lacks a Frida vibe.

Next week brings the New Year. My cynical side asks, “How many other nations can the Trump Regime attack before the year’s end? How many more people can this administration kill and displace?” Being a peace president isn’t easy, you know. That’s why Trump wanted a department of war, so he could push for peace. He’s going to threaten, bomb, bully, or kill everyone into peaceful. It’s ‘do as I say or else’ diplomacy. Which is also is political tactic, and his negotiating stance. It’s all ‘do as I say or else’.

The ‘or else’ side of things is diminishing. Everyone has the measure of Trump’s blustering. He can’t do much economically. That’s largely because he severely damaged the United States’ economic power by breaking trade agreements, and levying tariffs. That leaves Trump with the greater danger for the rest of us, to employing the power of the U.S. military, which is still potent.

With that in mind, thinking over 2025 and looking ahead to 2026, The Neurons came up with the Grateful Dead song, “Casey Jones”. “Trouble ahead, trouble behind.” Yep, Trump is driving us toward a no-win, no-way-out situation of isolation.

By the way, what does everyone think about Trump bombing another place at about the same time that the DOJ found a million more Epstein Files? That seems like suspicious serendipity to me. I can imagine a conversation inside the place formerly known as the White House:

Trump’s minions: “We’re going to announce that Justice just discovered one million more Epstein files.”

Trump: “Whatever.”

TM: “We’re also announcing we’re releasing them.”

Trump: “Bomb someone. Quick.”

As mentioned in yesterday’s post, Christmas brunch was at at friend’s house, and a Czech student was present. She’s from a small village. Her school there covered elementary school through ninth grade and had only 117 students. After hearing her version of Christmas celebrations in her village, with baby Jesus delivering presents, I asked the net for more info. I learned that Martin Luther had encouraged this idea to help move people toward Christianity.

I also ended up looking up Sinterklaas. I’d mentioned that figure as another interesting Christmas variation. They all claimed to have never heard of Sinterklaas, so I had to look him up just to reassure myself that I wasn’t nuts.

I hope your holidays were and are pleasant for you. Hope, too, that whatever troubles 2025 brought to you drop away and that 2026 is less problematic and troublesome for all of us. Fingers crossed. At least we’re going to be seeing longer periods of daylight up north now, having crossed the solstice boundary.

Got my coffee. Here we go again. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

I was deep into a writing day at the coffee shop when I happened to look up. Across the room was a young girl—maybe six. In her hand was a huge chocolate croissant. I swear the pastry was as large as her head. She kept attacking it with her tiny mouth, trying again and again to make inroads into the dough.

As I smiled to myself and glanced around, I noticed others doing the same. We all seemed to feel it: the quiet pleasure of witnessing a sweet moment—a sweetie going after a sweet.

1

Wenzdaz Theme Music

The rain has ceased and it’s warmer.

Hi. Today is December 24, 2025 in Ashlandia. Just one week of 2025 remains.

It’s 45 F right now. Quite pleasant. The fog left for a while. Yesterday, buzzing around town on errands, brought beautiful vista of long silvery gray fog snakes crawling around the hollows and valleys, and scaling the mountainsides. Clouds blocked the sunshine, lending the scenes an intensely dark backdrop.

Writing neurons immediately pictured the fog snakes as sentient creatures crawling through our presence, perhaps stealing pieces of us. Not all fog snakes are the same; some feed on memories. Others fog snakes still physical presence from us. More nibble away emotions or thinking. Where does it go from there? Give me some coffee and let me think.

While it’s 45 F now, the weather forecasters are warning us that temperatures will be dropping.

News headlines bring us tidings of destruction or recovery of destruction in other parts of the world and nation. I was with friends last night, toasting our friendship, talking about the season’s plans and plans for next year, and addressing political issues. All present believed Donald Trump’s strength is ebbing. That aligns with several articles I’ve recently read about Trump’s weakening influence.

Only one recent president has scored an approval rating as bad as Trump’s – himself

President Donald Trump’s job approval rating stands at just 36 percent in the latest Gallup poll, the joint-worst rating of any U.S. president at the end of their first year in power of the last 50 years.

The other man? Himself – at the end of the first year of his first term in December 2017 – when he picked up precisely the same score.

For comparison, his predecessor Joe Biden was at 43 percent at the end of his first year in the Oval Office in December 2021.

Happy Holidays, Donald Trump.

Today’s song, “Here Comes Your Man” by the Pixies, comes by way of dog watching. I was examining the morning through the office window. Sunshine! Blue sky! No fog! A dog walker was coming up the street, big black dog trotting alongside on a leash. Sudden deep wagging broke out on the dog. The woman walking the black pup called out something. A man strode down the street. The dog began joyous leaps. Letting the leash out, I heard the woman say, “Here comes your man.” Man and dog rushed one another and showered the other with affection.

As I smiled and went to turn away, The Neurons plugged “Here Comes Your Man” into the morning mental music stream. It’s a very pop tune sound, very un-Pixie, almost anti-Pixie. The band themselves resisted releasing it because it was so pop to them. But here we are, playing it 37 years later. Life. Technology. Perspective.

Coffee is served. Sun is still shining. Sky remains blue. A decent day may be brewing, at least for an hour or two. Hope peace and grace is on its way. Have the best day possible, today and every day. Cheers

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Twas the Day Before Tomorrow

Twas the day before tomorrow

And all through the land,

Was a man on television,

A person who many couldn’t stand.

Blustery and yelling,

Threatening to be harsh and mean,

Much of what he said made no sense

To those watching the scene.

“Affordability is a hoax,”

He shouted again and again.

“You just watch me, I’ll make it end.

“I inherited the worse job in the land.

“But it’s getting better,

“Just close your eyes and pretend.

“Start buying less of what you want,

“Prices will go down,

“Ten thousand percent, twenty thousand,

“So much! It’ll astound!

“You’ll be much happier

“With one room instead of three,

“If you work harder,

“Eat less eggs and meat,

“Play with less dolls,

“And watch less Teevee.

“You’d better be peaceful,”

He added in a rising voice,

“Or I’ll bomb you all

“Because you give me no choice.”

He finished up with a scowl and a smirk,

And stumbled away with a twitch and a jerk.

Then we read his holiday texts as day went into night,

“I’m the best ever.

“Give up! Don’t fight!”             

6

Twozdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Dementia Donny has been living up to his hype, blasting us with more wondrous boasts about the greatest and most beautiful things he’s doing for us.

Solving real problems fell off Delicate Donny’s radar long ago. His previous magic was to ‘tell it like it is’. Morally bankrupt and intellectually dishonest people fed off it. Now, with no one reining him in, his reign is a crashing, shambolic nightmare.

Affordability and inflation haunt Trump. The East Wing’s demolition reminds everyone who looks toward the White House sees it and remembers all of Trump’s past failures such as Trump Air and his string of failed promises, like “Mexico will pay for the wall”.

Now, hospitals are shuttering in rural areas. More are closing in 2025 than have in the past five years. Rising costs for food, healthcare, and energy are undermining Trump speeches that everything is better than before. Rising bankruptcies point to data that everything isn’t getting better.

Thing about it was that Trump’s bluster often covered his damage. When that didn’t work, he’d order wild distractions. That strategy was aided by those who want to further his agenda. Now, reality is engulfing the nation. Disapproval for Trump is drifting toward historic lows. Approval is becoming as weak as a memory of sunshine. Although media conglomerates still kowtow to Trump and his sycophants appease him by naming things after him, Trump is a weakening individual with waning influence.

Even Republicans are awakening to that truth. Stands are rising against him. Speaker Mike Johnson in the House remains Trump’s man but voter anger is stinging rank and file Republicans. Worrying about keeping their seats. they’re jumping off the MAGA wagon, though they carefully say little to anger Trump. He still has a big stick.

Trump’s biggest crutches remain the cadre he installed as his cabinet. Vought, Noem, Miller, Hegseth, Bessent, and Kennedy race forward, trying to do as much damage as possible before Trump shuffles off the stage. Vance is eager to seize the reins, but all know, he isn’t Trump. Although Trump can’t or doesn’t care to see it because it isn’t about him, Trump is institutionalizing regression under the guise of progress. That is how Project 2025 planned it. These are not mere villains, but morally ambiguous players dedicated to the Project 2025 cause.

Vance seems to be coming from a place where he thinks he can say, “Hey, we’re all Christians here,” and earn a stronger following. Christians might go for that but the rest of us are dubious about it. As Heather Cox Richardson related in her December 21, 2025, piece, Vance and the Project 2025 crowd continue to try to rewrite history and facts.

Speaking today at Turning Point USA’s annual “AmericaFest” conference, Vice President J.D. Vance said, to great applause: “The only thing that has truly served as an anchor of the United States of America is that we have been, and by the grace of God we always will be, a Christian nation.”

Actually, we haven’t.

Vance’s statement flies in the face of our Constitution, whose First Amendment reads: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof….” James Madison of Virginia, the key thinker behind the Constitution, had quite a lot to say about why it was fundamentally important to make sure the government kept away from religion.

In 1772, when he was 21, Madison watched as Virginia arrested itinerant preachers for attacking the established church in the state. He was no foe of religion, but by the next year, he had begun to question whether established religion, which was common in the colonies, was good for society. By 1776, many of his broad-thinking neighbors had come to believe that society should “tolerate” different religious practices; he had moved past tolerance to the belief that men had a right of conscience.

Ms Richardson’s final line in that paragraph struck me. This is where we’re seriously regressing as a nation IMO. As a progressive democracy, we were moving more past tolerance to the belief that everyone was equal but individual, but that the roots of individuality didn’t matter. What mattered was that all of us were humans, invested in one another to advance together, or fail together.

Now the Project 2025 gaggle has us as a nation regressing. We’re no longer even ‘tolerant’. Yes, Trump pushed that idea, giving it more emphasis as it gained traction. What deeply disturbed so many of us as Americans and U.S. citizens was how many of our fellow citizens weren’t willing to be tolerant. Not only were they not being tolerant of others different from them, but now they’re moving toward being more aggressively violent.

That is Trump, too. But the resentment, the willingness to be intolerant was always there, as was the violence. Trump and Project 2025 used that to propel Trump forward. Needing more votes than his base provided, Trump appealed to people upset with the economy by falsifying and magnifying how bad it was. Now the truth is out. Affordability is a bigger problem under Trump than it was under President Biden. Paul Krugman noted that the national deficit did not decrease under Trump but is bigger than it was in the first nine months of 2024.

Voters are noticing Trump’s failed economics policies. GOP stalwarts are noticing. No matter how many buildings are named for Trump, no matter how much he tries to change the narrative, the damage has ended Trump’s ability to lie and blame others.

There will be a reckoning with voters in 2026. Despite being in an ideological bubble, Trump knows it’s going to be bad for him.

He feels it, and it shows.

3

Twozdaz Theme Music

A tight light gray sheet is pulled down over Ashland. Woven of clouds, rain, and fog, it reduces sunlight to graylight. As light rain sings, the temperature hangs at 38 F with a high of 38 F looming. This is Twozda, December 23, 2025.

Thinking of Mom, life, and politics led me into paths of cogitation about how we shape others’ impressions of us. Sometimes our impressions of others actually undermine our ability to see who they are and what they mean. History with them, and disappointments with them, seem to frequently color our greater impressions and reactions. Emotions overtake thinking. Anger sets in and calcifies. Then we limit engagements, refuse to talk to them. Why should we? They’ve proven who they are to us.

Yet, we know that one of the greatest constants of existence is change. Many of us try and succeed to change ourselves for the better. Sometimes we awaken from whatever cocoon held us and realize, “Oh, shit. What did I do?” Then we hunt avenues to fix whatever mess we created.

Not all, I guess. I’ve known some terminally ignorant people who refused to ever admit they were ever wrong, let alone try to fix things. But others saw them for that toxicity and drifted from them until they stood alone, stewing in their rage about how they knew they’re right and everyone else is wrong. I think Trump is deeply into that circle. The thing is, his wealth and power keep extending his life. He’s surrounded himself with enablers. To admit that he’s wrong is to admit they’re wrong. And they’re shying off from that.

Like Trump, like Mom, like me and others I know, underlying our behavior are health challenges. I’m dealing with mine and seem to be rapidly improving. But I know others who are skating downhill, picking up speed, piling up the problems. It’s harder to see those things in others, whether their causes are emotional, neurological, matters with digestion, depression, or the simpler and more insidious problem…getting old. Even when you know ‘what’s wrong with them’ in clear and lucid terms, it’s hard to grasp the many ways that what’s wrong with them interferes with their being, causes them suffering, and makes them seem to lash out. Some people magnify what they’re going through, hungry for attention. Others hide it as deeply as possible, shunning attention and sympathy, disgusted that they might be *gasp* pitied. We’re complicated beings in a complicated world.

I have Fall Out Boy in the morning mental music stream. “Save Rock and Roll” featuring Elton John is the breakfast soundtrack. It hinges on the pins of my reflections and a lyric that goes, “You are what you love, not who loves you.” Not sure how it fits into my morning morass of mingling musings.

Rock and roll never forgets even if peace and grace seem to. Got my coffee. Here we go, into the gray future once again. Cheers

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