Category: weather

Monday’s Theme Music

Another milestone reached, because it’s another ‘t’ day. Yes, it’s today, April 4, 2022, a Monday, a new start to a new week, if you’re one of those who think of Monday as the first day of the week. I do, at least for today.

It’s rainy and chilly outside. Poured hard earlier, drumming on the roof and the vents, transporting us to a rock concert drum solo. Nice being inside, safe and warm, listening to the rain. I wish everyone in the world had such simple luxury, shelter, and security.

The theoretical sunrise, theoretical because the clouds were saying, “Nope, not this morning, no sunshine for you, Ashland,” was at 6:49 this morning while sunset, if we see it, will be at 7:40 PM. It’s now 42 degrees F. We might see 50 today.

Today’s song comes out of reflections for the cat who passed away last month. I miss him and his energy still fills the house while his memory is sharp in our minds, but, you know, he was enduring heavy pain and discomfort by the end. You know how it is; you miss them but you’re happy they’re free of their disease’s chains. You promise to meet up again sometime, somewhere, and wonder, can that be true? Is that possible?

So, it’s mixed emotions with which his passing is viewed. Hearing that, the sleepy neurons were like, “What? Mixed Emotions. Rolling Stones. 1989. Here we go.” I answered, no, no, I wasn’t asking for that to be played.

Well, here we are. The neurons won.

The song has a nice guitar-driven throwback for the Stones. It could easily be from the late sixties or early seventies instead of the late eighties. They were, are, an enduring band.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, etc. We’ve made plans for our next booster this week. Take care of yourself. Now, the neurons are demanded they be paid in coffee for their work, so I’m a mission to the kitchen. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

4/3/2022, A Sunday, with a lazy, milquetoast sun, and a low energy motor. April’s first Sunday is gonna be mellow, it proclaims. Were this a thriller or murder mystery, or a disaster film, something would happen to shake the calm and enliven the day with screams. So far, nothing — but it’s early.

Not that I want it. I have coffee. Would prefer to just motor on in a quiet way.

Temperature is a chilly 42, and yes, others say, I’ll take that, because they’re freezing their butts off or dealing with snow. I hear you, and I understand. Supposed to reach 62 F here. The sun wandered in at 6:50 AM, scratching itself, mumbling “Whatssup,” through a yawn. It’ll wander back away at 7:39 PM. The clouds, like the sun and me, seem to lack the energy to be more than a white wisp of stretched thought, the kind of thinking when you say, “I’m hungry,” and someone else asks you, “What do you want to eat,” and you answer, “I don’t know.”

The neurons continue messing with my head. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to them but they’re a bit cranky, energetic and lazy at the same time, like sullen teenagers feeling their hormones and wandering what to do with them. First the neurons pushed Olivia Newton John music on me — “Have you never been mellow” — followed by Melanie singing, “Look what they’ve done to my song, ma,” followed by the German version that was a larger hit. I mumbled something about needing change, fast. The neurons responded with impressive speed, playing the Ramones, “Do You Remember Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio?” from 1980. It’s not speeding around and around the morning mental music stream like race cars at the Indy 500.

Got my coffee, yeah. Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Reading a novel where their future mentions in passing, COVID-19, COVID-23, and COVID-27. It’s a startling thing to do in passing.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Sunshine petered into our valley for an hour and then the sun crested the mountains like a shining spring bloom.

Hi. Today is Saturday, March 33, 2022, or April 2, for the purists. We’re already at 52 degrees F today after the sun hit the valley with its warm light at 6:52 AM. The sun will ride our sky until 7:38 PM, pulling our temperatures up to a high of 66 F. No rain today; not a cloud in the sky right now.

The neurons continue having fun with me. This morning, out of nowhere, and I’m serious about that, it came from nowhere, they began singing a song called “98.6”. Released when I was a child, I had to search for who sang the song and the year. I was clueless about both. I know it sounds like a humbrag — and yeah, it is — but music is usually weirdly fastened to me via space and time, like details about who I was and where at the time I regularly heard the song, friends’ reactions to it, etc., along with the artist. But for this one, I knew I was a kid, and the lyrics were just sucked up. Of course, the lyrics are smooth and easy, following a simple rhythm, so I suppose that’s understandable. Turned out the song was released by Keith in 1966. I was ten. Such a different sound to pop in that era, innit?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the jabs when needed. We are searching for another booster, and we’re still masking when in stores, etc. We’re not alone in that, either.

Here’s the music, which means it’s coffee time. Cheers

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The Philospher-Musician Dream

It began with a dark, rainy night. Walking along on a windy tar road under a tall highway overpass, I was looking for a specific house, one where a French philosopher and musician lived. I had some vision but it was extremely dark and wet. As I walked, I realized an animal was not far from me. I veered a bit to go around it and realized it was a large, black dog. I changed course again, then just shrugged off the dog’s presence and walked past it. The dog ignored me; I looked back and found it was two large, black dogs, but they weren’t paying any attention to me.

I arrived at the house I sought. Children let me in and led me to a bedroom. Her ceilings were low, the walls were wood-paneled, windows abounded, and the lights were soft, yellow glows. After a moment, a woman entered; this was the philosopher-musician I sought. She was short and fair, thin, with a black bob. I explained to her that I had an original song trapped in my head. I wanted to get it out but I wanted to duplicate it so others could hear it. Could she help?

Yes. I sat on her bed on white sheets. She asked me to describe the song. I listened in my head and described soft violins that swelled and fell. She began playing music, asking, like this? That kept on until she had that piece down with my corrections. So it went, with different instruments, until she’d captured the entire song in my head. The children sometimes interrupted, coming in to peek at me or asking Mom for something, but it was overall a very productive but intense session.

She gave me a copy of the recording for my use. I left, retracing my steps through dark pouring rain. Seeing a shortcut through a yard, I ventured to follow it, where I saw a bird riding on the back of the turtle. The turtle went through a pool of water and then out onto the land again. The bird was almost dislodged but resettled. Both looked at me. I wondered if the bird was a burden to the turtle and considered trying to remove it but decided against it.

I went on and came across a large party under sunshine and tents on the grounds of a Marriott Hotel. I knew it was a Marriott because of the big, red letters. It wasn’t raining; I was dry and the land was dry. I saw two of my tall cousins. Going to them, I said, “Hey, let me buy you a drink,” and handed one a twenty. Each already had a drink in their hand but stopped and looked at the money.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s not enough,” one cousin answered.

“Isn’t this happy hour?” I returned.

“Yes,” the other cousin said, “But my vodka is nine dollars a shot, and this is a double shot.”

Dream end.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Let us turn the page. Turning a calendar page has a waning crowd. It’s like spending a dime. Dropping the penny. Looking a gift horse in the mouth or having a pig in a poke.

Today is April 1, 2022, Friday. Sun’s first light was peeping into the valley well before our official kickoff at 6:51 this morning. Clouds have faded into high pale shadows of themselves, trickles of white braced against a hazy blue field. Temperatures dropped to 33 F last night, driving the cats back in — well, just the one really, as the other is older and has decided he prefers indoor life and firm sunshine over the cold dark. We’re now up to 44, though, and expect the mercury to reach 66 as our high. Do young people understand temperature and our links to mercury references?

Which delivers me to the morning mental music stream. A friend referred to “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac from 1977 the other night. Inspired by being outside last night, listening to the wind blow as shadows and darkness took over after sunset, the neurons began playing the song for me. They have yet to stop. Oh, those crazy neurons.

Here’s the song. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, etc. We’re on the hunt for a second booster. We were originally J&Jers and my wife is immunocompromised. Every small edge is pursued and appreciated. It’s not ready to be delivered yet, as no one in the valley has it available, except Walgreen’s in Medford. We’ll keep looking, calling, searching, etc.

Speaking of appreciation, I think I’ll go get my coffee. The neurons will appreciate it.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Here we go, the end of the month, Thursday, March 31, 2022. About a quarter of 2022 has fled into history. Gray cloud layers in the west fondle the pines on the ridges. Broken clouds up north hover like an anxious herd ready to flee. In the east and south, smaller, tattered pats yield to sunshine and blue sky. Are you up for rain? It might come. Might not, too. Just be a brief spit, probably, if it does.

Sunshine trickled in at 6:55 AM. The sun will do the fade at 7:35 this evening. Temperatures hunker in at 44 F right now, with a cold, northern edge to it, like winter is saying, let me stay. A high of 58, not too ambitious, is possible.

I went out with the cats this morning to feel the air. They found sun pools and stayed. I shivered and slipped back in. Somehow, in that process, the neurons decided “Take Me to the Pilot” by Elton John (1970) fit the moment and inserted it into the morning mental music stream.

Stay positive, etc. Sorry, I need my coffee. Here’s the song. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

We’ve reached another milestone, a day that ends in ‘y’. This one is a Tuesday.

It’s March 29, 2022, for those of you playing calendar bingo. Sunrise came at — ta da! — 6:59 AM. Sunset will be at 7:33 PM.

A weak sunrise was experienced, one like a cup of tea made with a tea bag that’s already serviced a dozen cups as tattered rain clouds still harrumphed across the blue. We had a few stretches of steady rain yesterday, one bit of that which hit five on the Floof Scale. I always use the Floof Scale to measure precipitation. A five meant, find cover, it’s coming down. Ten is head for high ground and hang on.

Average spring temperatures remain the norm. The digits sit at 48 F now. We expect 67 F today. Back out to weed this afternoon.

Today’s music was brought on by yesterday’s writing session. I’d been finger dancing on a kb for a while as the muses whipped my back and urged more writing, faster. Stopping for a breath, I discovered the digits said it was almost four PM. The day had slid past in a word sprawl. The neurons, catching on to my surprise about the time, began singing, “Time, time, ticking, ticking away,” repeating that chorus. They were testing me, of course. “The Last Worthless Evening”, Don Henly, 1988, The End of the Innocence, I told my neurons. To reward me for getting it right, they started playing the song, and now it’s stuck in the morning mental music stream.

Stay positive, test negative, and remain alert to what’s going on. Here’s the music. I’m gonna go treat the neurons to a cuppa java. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Monday, March 28, 2022, is out of the gate and running. The sun slipped into the valley at 7:01 AM and will slip away at 7:32 PM. The temperature is a comfy 52 degrees F but the high will probably top off at 60 as rain is in the tea leaves.

No dreams were in my head this morning. It happens, but it always feels weird. Like, what happened to the dreams? Why aren’t they there?

What is there is music. Tom Jones is singing in the morning mental music stream. So are the Beatles, Who, Stones, and 21 Pilots. What’s it all mean? I queried the neurons but they’re not saying. It might all have to do with being up late writing last night. Was about to close the files for the newest work in progress, The Light of Memories, and shut down the computer when I thought, let me start this one scene so I don’t lose that thread. Forty-five minutes later, the scene was finished, and two others were started. I don’t generally like writing late because the neurons start running around like adults at a beer festival, which isn’t conducive to sleep.

The neurons have quieted. Into the silence, they’ve brought up “Fell on Black Days” by Soundgarden from, like, 1994. An interesting choice, a dark but strangely mellow tune. Used to listen to it during the SF Bay area commute. Guess it reminds the neurons of better times and places.

Here’s the music. Stay positive, test negative, etc. You know the drill. What’s that, neurons? Yes, you’re right, it is time for coffee, or, as I call it, coffee time.

Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

We’re in cloud city this Sunday, March 27, 2022, facing a temperature of 54 F. It’s expected to go up to 70. The sun bounced a feeble few rays our way at 7:02 AM. Sunset is expected at 7:31 PM.

Some of my balance has returned. It feels like a proper Sunday. Yardwork plans are in the offing. I’ve gone out, pulling weeds and trimming things, in the afternoon a few days this week. We cleaned yesterday, then I walked for a few miles on my own. The sun was full and strong, and it was beautiful to see the flowers in bloom, green flushing the lawns again, and leaves filling trees’ branches.

On the DIY front, I did buy a new thermostat and installed it Friday, which fixed the heating issue. Fifty dollars at the local hardware store, it’s a mild upgrade to the one I’d installed in this place about fifteen years ago. I reckon it’s the fifth thermostat that I’ve installed in my lifetime. The first was one with a mercury switch, a long time ago in a duplex that we rented.

My neurons are having fun with me this morning, inserting an old song, “Polly Wolly Doodle”, into the morning mental music stream. I haven’t heard that song in ages but remember singing it in an elementary school class with the teacher at the piano. You should hear my neurons snickering and chortling as the song goes round and round. I answered their efforts with that classic retort, “How old are you?” That should’ve put them into their place, but they reacted by pumping the 1999 Blink 182 song into the stream, “What’s My Age Again”. More of their mischief. Although it’s been a featured theme song before, I haven’t had any coffee and don’t feel like arguing with them. So, here we go, folks.

Stay positive, test negative, adjust as needed to the changing situation, and stay alert. Don’t let complacency take you down. I won’t, once I have some coffee.

Cheers

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