A friend owns an online business called 1000Museums. Quoting them, “1000MUSEUMS is the place to discover, shop and share museums and exhibitions from around the world!” It’s a fascinating site. They’re offering a flash sale to honor IWD. If you have an interest, take a peek. If you want to buy, use the code. Better hurry. Flashes don’t last.
Candice is always sharing intriguing photos that make you smile. In her spirit I saw two places today while I was out and offer them.
The first is a sign of children story locations, located above a Little Library on an Ashland street.
These are by someone’s house on Walker in Ashland. I suppose I could politely inquire about their story and history. Maybe someday I will. For now, though, it’s fun to see them and imagine why they’re there. Hard to do justice to them, but they’re a tiny door and tiny window set into the side of an embankment. On the top is a small bridge.
Good morning. Welcome to the February 16, 2021 edition of southern Oregon Tuesday. Sunrise and sunset are 7:06 AM and 5:45 PM respectively. Look how quickly we’re moving to eleven hours of daylight. How the heart sings with expectation.
The high and low temperatures today are 45 degrees F, and 32. Sunshine is busting through all over right now. Rain is expected but it’s 40 and pleasant out there right now.
Meanwhile, stormy weather dominates this US news cycle. Snow and ice grips most of the nation’s contiguous states. It’s freezing and snowing in places that rarely feel it. Power demands are forcing rotating black-outs. Millions are without power. They’re running out of fire wood. Lines for propane refills are almost as bad as lines for food last summer in Texas. The upper part of Oregon, where Portland rests, is suffering from collapsed car ports and snow-burdened roads, Trees, branches, and power lines going down under the heavy snow and ice. It’s ugly.
Stormy weather kicked the Wayback Machine into gear. “Stormy”, a 1968 hit by The Classics IV, settled into the mental music stream. Hope you’re familiar with this one. Haven’t heard it outside of my head in yonks.
Stay positive and test negative. Wear a mask and get vaccinated. Enjoy the music and think good thoughts. Cheers
I dreamed I was driving a BMW M1 in a dream last night. The road was slushy and snowy and the car was dark green. I was having a ball sliding the powerful, capable car around curves and slamming down straights, managing the direction as the car attempted to fishtail and spin.
Awakening and thinking about the dream kept a smile on my face. Although I know of the BMW M1, I’ve never actually seen one. It’s a rare model. Research shows it was produced from 1978 to 1981, with four hundred fifty-three cars built. A mid-engine mounted sports car, it was powerful and capable, with output coming from a straight six engine. Top speed was 164 MPH and 0-60 MPH was about 6.4 seconds. These aren’t brilliant numbers these days, but back then, that performance put it in a special category.
Of course, the query in my head is why that car in that dream? I often think of my dream cars as representing me. It’s pleasing now to think that I’m a rare but outdated exotic sports car who used to be capable of performance that impressed others. Carrying the analogy further, now I’m just an old rarity, long out of production, and infrequently seen.
I like the green in the snow though, you know? You can see why, right?
An old song is stuck in my head this Saturday morning, the last Saturday in January, 2021. In other news, the sun rose at 7:26 AM and will set at 5:23 PM here in Ashland. All those things happen every day, but at different times.
They call songs stuck in your head ear worms. I call them a diversion. I typically get trapped in one specific section. I call it a groove loop, a reference back to the time when we listened to records on vinyl, which had grooves.
The stuck song is “Spanish Harlem”. The stuck version is by Aretha Franklin and came out in 1971. I was about fifteen. The eternal question of why this song is stuck in my head can’t be answered today. It arrived as I decided to eat a banana as my breakfast’s second course. First course was oatmeal with cranberries and peanut butter, sprinkled with gluten-free maple granola.
The COVID-19 situation continues to alarm many, including me. We experienced a solid week of double-digit new cases, and the rolling three day average was dropping. Across the country, cases were dropping. Only two states were reporting increases on Thursday. Yet, dire warnings about the variations were increasing. Recommendations to wear two masks, or wear only N95 masks were issued. Then, last night, boom, our county reported triple digits again. It’s wave after wave. Like the ocean, some waves are larger than others, and you need to be mindful of sneaker waves.
Time for coffee. Stay positive, test negative, WAM (wear a mask), and get vaccinated, when it comes your way. Here’s the music.
So the thoughts go, ah, another cousin has died. He was seventy-three. Positive for COVID-19, kidney failure was his cause of death.
The thoughts continue, when did I see him last? What happened to him in the interim?
The thoughts drift…did he marry and have children? Who are they and where do they live?
The thoughts roll on to other uncles and aunts and their children, and their children’s children.
Two other cousins passed away in 2020. Hadn’t seen one in two decades. Almost six had passed since I’d seen the other. They and I were small children. Also passing was an aunt, not seen since I was two or three.
In a modern age of connection and travel, it’s startling to recognize how many of my family members I know about, and how little I know about them.
Two related stories are there to be told. One is of a cousin fourteen years younger. He was friends with my sister via FB. (My sister has a different father than me and last name and she’s since married a few times.) He reached out to her: “Hey, how come my mom’s maiden name and your brother’s last name are the same?” He was too young to remember me, and didn’t know about our connection.
Another friend request came in last year. Mom’s older brother had a son who know lives north of me by a few hours. Can we be friends? A few years older, he and I have a lot in common. On one FB exchange today, we discovered that we attended the same Joe Cocker concern a few years ago. From our description of where we were sitting, we were within yards of one another.
It’s a large world and a small world, a world tangled with connections and distance. I began trying to untangle some of it today.