It’s been raining all night. No sunshine in sight. If clouds are your thing, the sky is a delight.
37 F outside but it’s cozy in mi casa. It looks like day destined for inside activities, like writing, reading, and of course cleaning. Cuz it’s Saturday. Saturday is about cleaning in this casa.
Slept great last night. No cat woke me. Didn’t get up to pee. No, didn’t pee the bed either, those of you who went there, as I would. Had a lengthy, uninterrupted dream about previous employment and co-workers. Sunrise before seven, sunset after 7:30 PM. This is Thursday, April 1, 2023.
The cats not waking me worried this morning. Tucker was on the bed by me, sitting and watching, looking like he thought, oh, good, he’s alive. I won’t need to eat him to survive. Papi was out on the sofa curled up. At my approach, he yawned, stood, stretched, and then join Tucker and I to get some breakfast. Both seemed well. Letting me sleep all night makes me suspicious, though. I wonder what they’re up to.
I have The J. Geils Band playing “Must of Got Lost” from 1974 in the morning mental music stream. I can’t trace the origins or intent for playing this tune. The Neurons tell me, the reason must have got lost, then they cackle like crazy folks.
Stay pos. and enjoy your day. I’m off for brekkie and coffee. Here is the music. Cheers
Ordinarily, I love this time of year. The air smells fresh after the winter scrub and temperatures are moderate. Blooms crack out of the ground and raise their heads, unfolding their colors. We’re still waiting for most of that. We’re on winter/spring seasaw, and winter has the better of spring on most days. High and low temperatures are ten to twelve degrees (F) below normal for this period. It’s 37 F now. Clouds are positioning on the western horizon.
Earth’s orbit still brings some reasons to rejoice, like sunshine. This time of year, it floods the master BR through the massive slider on the eastern side. Out in the dining room, sunshine steals in through the dining room southern windows and grows bolder. Back in the MBR, the sunshine fills the room and then slides south into the living room’s eastern windows. Finally rising above the trees and mountains, sunshine fills the living room’s eastern and southern windows, along with the dining room’s windows. Fabulous.
The blinds are raised. The floofs absolutely adore finding those huge stretches of sunshine. We have mixed flooring — bare hardwood, rugs, and then carpets. The floofs find their warmth intoxicating. They settle in spots. Synchronized grooming commences. Then, naps.
Today is March 31, 2023, March’s last day, and Friday. Winter storm watches and advisories are up for Ashlandia from tonight at 11 PM through Sunday night. Saturday through Tuesday calls for snow and rain. Up to 24 inches of accumulation, depending on your elevation and location. I think we’ll see some snow around my Ashlandia hood, but not much.
Watching and reading the political news in wake of the Nashville murders of six people and the D.C. debt ceiling talks and Jordan’s performance at his committee hearings, The Neurons punched up a 1972 Steely Dan song, “Only A Fool Would Say That”. Echoes my comments about what I was hearing and reading: only a fool would say that.
Stay pos., and enjoy whatever you can. I’m enjoying waffles and coffee, watching the floofs sleep in sunshine, and the build-up to shifting into the writing day. Kind of like getting ready for a championship game, with less commentary and commercials.
I raise the bedroom blinds a few minutes before seven to see how the day looks. I know it’s Wednesday but it looks like Tuesday. To be fair, Tuesday wasn’t a bad day, with some spring breaking through winter’s facade in the mid-afternoon, to treat us to what it should be for about six wonderful minutes. Then winter wind knifed in, mocking us, not yet.
So here with are with clouds. A sun is up there, we know, but the clouds front them. If we saw this sky from space, it’d be a little gray marble. Rain is expected this afternoon. 36 F now, up from 32, the weather minders say we’ll reach 50 F. Sunrise is after 7:30 PM.
Dreams have loaded up my mind. Out of that porridge, The Neurons decided the appropriate song is Queen, “Keep Yourself Alive”, 1973. It’s a recording of a live show with everyone alive, young, and in good health. Terrific performance.
Speaking of cats, Tucker, my b&w almost long-haired floof with crazy-head whiskers and ginormous paws, has a habit of laying down beside me in bed and then stroking my chin with claws. He came to us with one damaged eye so his depth perception is a little hinkie. Thus, the claws pluck my skin. Not as adorable as you might think when you’re half awake.
Stay positive and test negative. Friends just enduring a short but brutal COVID bout, reminding it that it’s still out there. We’re in the extreme minority when masking, which we still do in many public buildings. But you do you and I’ll do me. Here’s the tune, and look, coffee! Praise be.
The coffee shop is full of refugees, if you will. The roads heading south into northern California, Interstate 5 and Highway 101, are closed for a blizzard. Several groups exchanged tales. They expected rain — it’s spring, you know — but they didn’t expect this snow. I feel for them and their disrupted plans, but they have phones and computers, and a comfortable place with okay food and good coffee.
The place has become packed, and of course, their vibe is totally different from the rest of us.
It’s Tuesday again. Seems like it was just last week that it was Tuesday. The way these days just keep coming around can drive you nuts if you think about it. Answer from friends and wife: don’t think about it. snort
It’s March 28, 2023. 2023’s first quarter is coming to an end. Time to close the books, take stock of how ya did, and make adjustments. It’s a spring-winter day here — sprinter — with snow and cold temperatures refusing to stop threatening us. Dropped to 36 F last night, which is warmer than we’ve been having at night, but lower than Ashlandia’s typical nighttime temperatures.
It’s 37 F now. No blue sky, just a white plain illuminated by sunshine from behind, and a few small flurries sometimes spilling down. Sunrise was a little before seven and sunset will come at 7:30 PM.
Papi was out enjoying this for about four minutes and twenty seconds before beating on the front door. He’d been let out the back. Usually, with our eaves, he can walk around the house without getting wet but today’s winds have the rain slanting in from the east — the backyard, so he stepped out into it. Upon his return inside, the ginger floof galloped around the living room, through the dining room and down a hall and back three times. I believe he was trying to air dry himself by running fast.
Big new today: they changed Wordle.
I have a song out of 2009 called “Check My Brain” by Alice In Chains going round and round (you know, like the Ratt song?) in my morning mental music stream. When I first heard it on its release, there was no doubt it was AIC. They have interesting indelible vocal mixes. Today’s song came from my wife’s comment last night because she couldn’t remember something, announcing, “Check my brain. Is it still there?” The Neurons were all like, “Ooo, ooo, I know that song,” and commenced playing.
Stay positive. Hope your weather is lovely where you’re at and you have a chance to enjoy it. Seize the day! I’ve seized the coffee. It’s a start. Here’s the music. Cheers
The wheel has spun and landed on Monday. Again. I feel like it’s rigged. But again, what do we know about what’s going on?
It’s March 27, 2023. 33 degrees F in Ashlandia after the sun showed up sevenish to drive off some of the night’s cold. Not looking like spring, sure doesn’t feel like spring. Cats didn’t even ask to go out this morning. They were all, “Wake me when winter ends.” The weather whisperers think it’ll rain today. High of 44 F degrees before the sun’s setting somewhere after seven PM, and the wheel spins again.
Quiet in Ashlandia, on the surface. Beneath it, arguments, accusations, and debates rage. Southern Oregon University has terminated instructors and cut classes, gutting programs. Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s director is claiming racism and arguments are going on whether it’s true. Their revenue has dropped from $40 million to $4 million. Questions arise, is that right? What happened? What will fuel the comeback? Structural debt lurks in the city’s bloated budget. Parks and Recs want more money and it’s not there. They want to build a new swimming pool for ten million, though the city has one. How many pools does it need? What’s wrong with what we have? Money is needed for a new water treatment plant — or should the current one be repaired and updated? The city hall conundrum rages on, should we build one — where — and where will the money be found? — or can the current building be fixed. Same question is applied to the community center. Behind all of these topics remain the annual usual concerns of water shortages, drought, wildfire, and smoke. Stay tuned; another election has been scheduled for May to address these matters. Meanwhile, the crumbling roads need work.
After reading and reading each side’s take on these matters and more, I have the Pixies singing “Gouge Away” from 1989 in the morning mental music stream…
Stay pos, keep calm, and carry on. Coffee helps me in that regard. Here’s the tune. Hope you enjoy it. Cheers
It’s a beautiful December morning outside the window. Snow graces the ground and plants. Clouds promise more clouds. 32 F out there but a comfy 68 in here, thanks to the heating industry. All that would be great, but this is March 26, 2023, and we’re beginning another week of spring. Someone pass the message on to the weather deities, please.
Although the Mt. Ashland ski resort is pleased, the rest of us are more perplexed than happy. Snow was not in our end of March plans. Leading the list of the dissatisfied are the cats. The in/out game is in play each morning and afternoon. Fortunately, yesterday, after the morning’s snow, sunshine bulled through the cloud cover, delivered us from the snow, and shared some shine, pushing temps to the mid-forties. The weather conductors tell us the same will be the case today. Despite the wintry scene, we will have over twelve hours of daylight, and that’s a good thing.
Today, I have “Metal Guru” by T. Rex from 1972 bubbling in the morning mental music stream. I first heard it on some late-night music show on AM radio while driving my 1965 Mercury Comet home from my girlfriend’s house. The car was a hand-me-down from the period’s stepmother, a forest-green sedan with a solid 289 V8. My girlfriend lived out in the country on twenty-some acres with no neighbors within shouting range. I lived back in a small town, Daniels, 10 miles away, about twenty minutes by the Comet late at night. I found the lyrics and its nuances mesmerizing and picked them up, singing to my girlfriend. She didn’t know what the hell I was going on about but she was used to that. I was considered a bit out there. Despite that, she married me, and we’re still together, a half century later.
I haven’t thought of this song in years. Nor have I heard it. The Neurons dusted it off after the cats and I were talking about their breakfast preferences. For some reason, The Neurons thought this intersection of action and conversation should be noted with the lyrics, “Metal guru, is it you?” Except I was singing, “Little kitty cat, is it you?” Then the rest flowed in and I realized, oh, yeah. T. Rex.
Ah, sunshine is exploding in through the eastern windows. Looks like spring is returning. Winter is melting away…again. Stay positive. Hope you have a lovely day underway whatever you’re doing out your way. I’ve just kickstarted my heart with some coffee. Breakfast awaits. Here’s the tune.
Morning salutations. It’s Saturday, March 25, 2023. Tucker used a querulous old man filter on his morning meow, forcing me up earlier than wanted. You know how persistence a querulous old man can be? Tucker has learned it. Anyway, the blinds were pulled up and there it was, two inches of snow. Well, they’d warned us. Snow was still falling. At 33 F, it’s not the thick stuff, but a wet slush piling up. Piling up is too dramatic; it’s just edging up. Supposed to reach 44 today, the weather masters say. So snow will stop and rain will commence. The temp will crash back into the high twenties tonight, and snow will commence again.
Sunrise was at 7:05. I can’t swear to that, because, clouds and snow. It’s just one big white slouchy pillow up there, draped down over the mountains. Pretty yesterday after the snow because we had a dramatic scene to the northeast, blackening clouds plopped on top of unkempt white and gray clouds, crashing an the snowy mountains all the way down to the snowline, where it went solid green. That’s all gone today.
About this snow, though, it graciously doesn’t stay on the pavement and asphalt, so those are clear of snow but wet. So, we’re muttering abut the snow because this is spring, thanks, and, like white shoes, snow is supposed to have its season. But we’re are pleased that driving is not impacted…much. The snow adds to the bank and we’ll need that this summer. Probably. I’m guessing.
The cats saw the snow, felt the cold, ate, and announced, “Screw this,” and went back to sleep.
Shelters are open for the homeless but it’s not a clean scene. Hot meals are served twice a day for them but at another location as the shelters are basically churches and the library. Some homeless are camping in the parks. I’m fine with it in principle but locals around those areas complain about the smells that end up arising because of people using alleys and areas around the parks as latrines. That also makes it a health hazard.
The Neurons’ music choice came out of a memory track. The track began by generally walking and thinking. Somehow, Cream and “Badge” emerged from sleeping in the gray vaults to play in my head. After they played, I recalled that a female group had once come out with their version of “Badge”. The Neurons were sent to excavate the name. Eventually it came back, Fanny. I’d mentioned Fanny to several people through the years but nobody ever knew them. My mind questioned whether they existed in this reality or it was something I’d made up. Perhaps, gentle suggestions were made, I had the name wrong. All possible.
But with the net, I looked up Fanny this morning and confirmed they were real. Then I found some terrific videos someone had made of them. Time was spent listening to them, enjoying the sound. I played “Badge” but also several other videos, including, “Hey Bulldog”. I always enjoyed it, so here it is.
Already had coffee. Soon as I saw the snow, mind ordered it now, hot and black. Stay pos and take the day. Here’s Fanny – hope you enjoy them. Cheers
Good mornin’. It’s Friday again, March 24, 2023, for the first time, we think.
Shakers of snow have spilled in several places. Tiny flakes laze from a pewter sky. Sun arrived a while again but the clouds have the numbers. 34 F now, the weather lizards explained with great showmanship it will reach 44 F.
Snow earned the cats’ disapproval. Tucker ate and found a warm space. Papi checked the front, back, front, back, front, back, front, back, and finally accepted that no comforting levels of sunshine could be found. Whiskers drooping in disapproval, he’s lounging on the sofa.
Meanwhile, I’ve retreated to the office with a cuppa coffee. With little solar energy feeding me, I needed a brew stat. Musically, The Neurons have imposed some Green Day in the morning mental music stream. I’m listening to “Holiday” (2005). Written in the aftermath of 9/11 and the retaliatory war started by Dubya’s administration, the songwriter was pissed and let fly his feelings. I shared them, because we were warned about WMD even though just months before, Colin Powell was reassuring us they weren’t there. Cheney had a different feel for it and added by Curveball, pushed for the war. They said it was gonna be a cake walk. Said it would pay for itself. Sure. Yeah, it was all dressed up very pretty in patriotism and UN resolutions, but it never made sense. Still does not.
Here’s the music. I wish you all a happy Friday. Stay pos. Cheers
Today is 3.23.23. It’s a Thursday, hazy with spring clouds, wet with spring moisture, cool with spring temps. 42 F now, looking for 51 F later. I wouldn’t be surprised to see it higher. The systems have been underestimating our high temperatures in March. Sunrise sprang in on us at 7 AM. I wasn’t quite ready to be all light up but that’s nature. Meridian is 1:10 PM while sunset is at 7:20 PM.
For some reason, or maybe many reasons, the housefloofs demanded additional attention this AM. Of course they’re given focus before they’re fed. House rules, which the floofs wrote and signed. I wasn’t even consulted. They were just, these are the rules, and presented ’em, a floof accompli. Wasn’t with this floof set. The house rules were put in place decades ago by our first house floofs. Others have carried them on. So, besides the pre-eating attention (I think it was the second or third breakfast), each came back and said, “I need a little more attention before I go wash and nap.”
Today’s theme music was released in 1976. The band is Aerosmith, the album is Rocks. The song is “Nobody’s Fault”. It’s a hard rocker best heard at high vol, one of those songs that has you head beating and singing the lyrics. It’s an angry sounding song. Some of my favorite lyrics:
Lord I must be dreaming What else could this be Everybody’s screaming Running for the sea Holy lands are sinking Birds take to the sky The prophets are all stinking drunk I know the reason why
Michael Seidel, writer 