The Stuff

Mom has moved out of her house and into an assisted living facility.

A household of things have been left behind that we need to move to sell her house. That includes clothing, paintings, vases, dishes, appliances, furniture, electronics. My sisters contacted liquidators and estate sales businesses to see if they would do it for a cut.

Short answer: no. Not enough of value to make it worthwhile.

I wasn’t overly surprised. Mom has tons of clothing and shoes but none is really vintage. She has furniture but the agents said that furniture is a hard sale these days.

My wife and I talked about this in relation to our own life. Adverse to an estate sale after she passes on, my wife has been doing a slow-roll death clean: a drawer a day. A closet. Organizing, tossing, donating. She used to refer to it as simplifying; now she just calls it the death clean.

It’s one of the places where we diverge on our philosophies. I consider my life busy and frantic enough to do without going through my belongings to see what I still want and want I need to throw away or donate. I do so sometimes, but I don’t make it part of my daily or weekly routines.

This exchange summarizes it for us. My wife said, “I don’t want people having to come through the house to get rid of things for me.”

I replied, “I don’t care. I won’t be there.”

As I walk around the house, I wonder, what would the estate sales agents say to me?

I suspect they’ll tell me the same thing they said about Mom’s stuff.

Thursday’s Theme Music — State of things

Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, May 14, 2026.

It’s blue out there, full of sunshine. Clouds are absent. 50 F with a high in the mid 70s today.

Thunderstorms looked possible yesterday but it didn’t happen. Just as in the previous days of forecasted activity. After the winter snow drought, May is at 3% of its average rainfall.

Our snowpack is at about 7%. While the reservoirs are above 80%, without snowmelt to replenish them, it’ll be a hot, dry summer. Stack the El Nino predictions, many of us are bracing ourselves for a rough year ahead.

Mom’s state is not good. She wasn’t responding to my sister’s texts. Sis called the assisted living facility, Heritage Grove, to ask about Mom. They said Mom went to bed before dinner and had not felt well all day.

On the optimistic side of the board, two neighbors are reportedly interested in buying Mom’s house.

My wife and I had new tires installed. For the record, we replaced a set that we’d bought in 2019. Got 35,000 miles out of them. Not great, not bad.

We bought them at Costco and had them installed there, shopping while we waited. As we were in the Medford area, we decided to eat out and chose the Texas Roadhouse Restaurant. My wife likes the salmon they serve there.

We couldn’t eat there. The way was blocked by ambulances and firetrucks. Wondering what’s going on, we took to our phones to learn. Nothing at the fire department, alert system, social media, or local television stations could give us that info.

This duplicated a Tuesday incident, in my mind. Driving home from writing at the coffee shop, one lane of traffic was blocked off in front of an SOU building on Siskiyou Avenue. What happened? I searched for information after I got home and couldn’t find anything. 24 hours later, the answer came: a woman had driven across the median strip, up a walkway, and into a building, breaking a gas meter along the way.

Miserable headlines fill my feed. When will there be good news? I’m not sure what I mean by good news at this point. An end to wars would be nice, along with a return to normalcy. Normalcy to me is let’s take action against polluting our air and water. Action against climate change. But the cynic in me says that PINO Trump would take credit for whatever and enough brain-dead people would slurp that down and bray about how great Dozy Donnie is that I’d regurgitate everything taken in during the last three days.

But here’s the state of things in the United States nation in one sharp observation someone else made:

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Paraphrasing, Trump lies, says this isn’t so bad, Biden! Because that worked well previously under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

Enough people with brains are responding, screw you.

You started a war, Donald J “No new wars” Trump.

The economy is a mess, gas prices are rising, all the prices are rising, Donald J “We’ll cut prices on day 1” Trump, and the country is going in the wrong direction.

And you, DONALD J TRUMP, YOU ARE THE REASON WE’RE IN SIX MILLION MESSES WITH NO WAY OUT EXCEPT TO FIRST GET RID OF YOU AND YOUR CRONIES.

Now stop building the damn ballroom and release the damn Epstein files so we can feast on your political corpse.

The Neurons inserted “Mind Games” by John Lennon into my morning mental music stream. This actually came about from Papi’s state of mind this morning. I played with him and his favorite nemesis, the red dot. The play began abruptly. As soon as he engaged, I stopped for about a minute. He kept peeking left and right, waiting for it to reappear. Just as he started walking off, I blinked it back on. Off Papi went, chasing it across the room, then stalking it.

I hope your Thursday brings you some good news and fair winds, assuming you need winds to get somewhere. Like you drive a sail car and need to have wind to blow you along the Interstate.

Have my coffee now. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music – Turn to stone

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, May 12, 2026.

It’s 66 F in Ashland. Clouds have painted a thin white veneer over the blue. Thunderstorms are forecast, along with an 87 degree high as spring moves toward summer.

Papi and I went out back. As I was stretching and yawning, I looked down and saw him doing the same. I laughed. “Nice stretching, oh great fur being.” He sat down and began grooming places that I groom in the shower.

News from home is that Mom is sick again. Details are shared. Her sciatic nerve has flared up and she’s back in her wheelchair. Also suffering from diarrhea. Sis says that’s been going on for a week.

My sister has been in content with estate sellers. Familiar with them? They buy the contents and then sell it to the public. They really want to know if there’s anything there besides furniture. Yes, there’s all the things you’d find in house where someone lives. I know that there’s a new movement on about ‘vintage’ stuff. Corning Ware is very popular now. Old clothes. Mom has all that stuff.

Strange and humbling to think simultaneously of all that stuff being bought, used, and sold to others. Decisions made about each purchase. I’d rather that someone else finds and uses the stuff rather than having it going to trash or recycled for its materials.

Today’s music has a two-prong inspiration. One, Jill Dennison recently played ELO’s song, “Turn to Stone”. A good song, it brought to mind another song called “Turn to Stone”. As soon as I read “Turn to Stone” on Jill’s blog, The Neurons introduced Joe Walsh’s “Turn to Stone” song.

I also remembered that I once read that Walsh said the song was about frustration. In true ‘net spirit, Wikipedia.org has a good quote about that from Walsh.

“‘Turn to Stone’ was written about the Nixon administration and the Vietnam War and the protesting that was going on and all of that. It’s a song about frustration. Also, I attended Kent State. I was at the shootings. That fueled it, too. In those days it felt like the government’s priority was not the population. They had an agenda that was about something other than doing what was necessarily good for the country.”

That last line echoes through Trump’s agenda. Driven by ‘right-wing values’, also known as racism, sexism, and greed, and orchestrate by the Heritage Foundation and Project 2025, Trump’s agenda is about him and not at all anything necessarily good for the country.

As Joe sings, “Read the writing on the wall.”

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Inflation news grabbed headlines this morning. Driven by Trump’s non-war in Iran, inflation jumped 3.8% in April. Rising gas prices were a big factor.

Trump’s disapproval rating keeps climbing. The NYT’s page summarizing polls and their Trump ratings are a column of red, showing net disapproval in every poll.

One another piece of news was that Epstein survivors are testifying in Florida. Standing by for another salvo from Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL to distract us from these pieces of news.

On to the music. Hope your day is full of good intentions and good results.

Got my coffee. Time to fly. Cheers

A Complex Dream of Instructions and Help

It was a complex dream, shifting as ocean waves with a brisk wind. As I thought about it, I distilled it into these general scenes, but it wasn’t quite this linear.

Younger, I was sometimes in the military, sometimes in some other work, seamlessly moving from one to the other from scene to scene. Most of the background was dark, but as if I was in office buildings.

At one point, a guy came by and gave me a silver computer. “Your instructions are on here,” he said. I nodded, understanding, ready to go to work, confident about how to proceed.

Opening the laptop, I brought up the guidance and sat back in surprise. These instructions were different. No worries; I’d figure it out. Probably just take longer.

I was called into another area. It was a small space, and dark. In there were two high-ranking Air Force general officers, small but slender and fit. I wasn’t there to see them. Passing behind the higher ranking one, I heard him describing someone.

I said without thinking, “Oh, you’re talking about – “

I stopped myself from finishing the sentence because I felt I’d overstepped. Then I apologized.  

The general gave me a sharp look and then nodded once. “You’re right. Good job.”

Leaving there, I went back to my dark office space and reclaimed my seat, reading to resume my work. Two other people came by. They’d received their instructions but weren’t sure how to do it.

Laughing, I gave them some insights about how to proceed. We chatted for a few more seconds before they left and I resumed work, pleased about what I was doing.

Mailing the Card

Mother’s Day is upon us in the US again.

It’s tougher for me this year. A year ago, Mom and Frank, her live-in partner, were residing together at Mom’s house. All of that has changed.

I bought Mom flowers on line a few days ago and scheduled their delivery. Bought her a card, wrote a note, and mailed it. Provided her with a gift card to help with her expenses.

I was thinking, though, how very difficult the time is for my younger sisters. They live not far from Mom. Mothers themselves, it used to be their practice to take Mom to a local restaurant for a Mother’s Day buffet brunch.

Mom loved those times out, raving to me about the food and how nice it was to be with her daughters and their families, to be out at a restaurant with everyone, to see other people.

Change is change. We all do what we can to mitigate its impact. Some things remain out of reach.

Sorry, don’t mean to be a downer. I know that I follow in the steps of many others who have walked this path. In the end, my family has many good memories of this holiday. There are others who never managed to find that level of joy and happiness.

Bottom line for myself: accept the blessings. Reflect on the past.

But let go.

I hope you can balance your memories and changes with the day. If you’re fortunate enough that you and your mom are together and can celebrate the day, I hope you build something wonderful to remember.

Cheers

Aging Reflections: the Balance.

A NYTimes headline scored my attention today:

5 Money Lessons From Readers in the Trenches of Elder-Parent Care

Regular visitors to my blog know that my family have been dealing with my aging mother for years. She’d been living a good life; a fall on some stairs changed that trajectory.

Mom fortunately had a good partner, Frank, as she moved toward her 80s. His drawbacks including increasing deafness, blindness, and being five years older than Mom.

We could see what was coming: Mom would need more and more care. The care would become more and more expensive. Frank would be less and less able to help Mom.

I spoke with Mom about it over the years, advocating to get someone in to help her clean and help her take care of herself. I also kept suggesting that they move into smaller place, such as an assisted living facility or a ‘senior’ community.

Mom resisted most of the suggestions. She didn’t want to leave her house. That home represented her life. She bought it on her own, then got her GED and went to nursing school. Mom opened her home to her grandchildren, taking care of them while my sisters went to school or worked.

I eventually convinced Mom to accept someone coming in and cleaning a few times a week. I paid for it, which helped Mom accept the help. She was also willing let that person in because it was a neighbor and someone she knew.

The arrangement ended when the cleaner suffered cancer and could no longer work. Worse, Mom was falling more often. Her recovery arcs were longer. Each hospital episode left her with more challenges. Yet her will to live was undiminished.

Things took a drastic turn last year. Frank, her partner, fell down the stairs. Hospitalized, he went into a coma and died, 95 years old.

This was devastating for us on multiple fronts and forced Mom’s health from concern to crisis.

Mom tried living alone when Frank was in the hospital and everyone hoped he would recover. Falling, though, Mom couldn’t get up several times and slept on the floor. Cooking was a struggle, so she took shortcuts such as eating sardines with crackers for dinner. She grew thinner and weaker.

My sister took her in. Sis set up a nice space for Mom. Perhaps the biggest drawback was that it was located in my sister’s finished basement. It started out fine but soon devolved into a cold war between Mom and everyone living there. Mom has been vulnerable to UTIs, and we think that was part of the problem.

Mom ended up making suicidal comments. She ended up hospitalized and then in an assisted living place where she does not want to be.

All this is just foreshadowing to me. I’ll be 70 in a few months. My wife is a year younger. One sister is two years older, and another is two years younger. The other two sisters are 8 and 10 years younger than me.

The thing is, even as Mom needs help, all of us are also reaching that point. While I’ve been hospitalized and treated for several issues in the last five years, I’ve rebounded. The same can’t be said for my wife, my sisters, and their husbands.

We’re all facing the same issues that others face in this article: how do we help our parents when we’re crossing the threshold into needing help ourselves?

This is the Silver Tsunami, a term many do not like.

I’ve considered moving to be closer to my sisters and Mom. There are many legitimate excuses for why that hasn’t happened. While our southern Oregon home is ideal for us, the location is not any longer. Just under 1900 square feet, the house is single storied with two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. One bedroom is the home office. This is where we spend our most time, reading, exercising, watching television, on the computer.

The area, though, has been enduring droughts. With the droughts have come water shortages, wildfires, and smoke. As those hit, the local economy has suffered. As a result, Ashland is facing a financial crisis. Adding to that crisis is that two major employers, Southern Oregon University (SOU) and the town’s hospital, Assante Ashland Community Hospital, faced their own crises. Those crises forced them to drawdown in significant ways, with more on the way.

At this point, the future is not ideal. As the article points out, we’re not alone in our problems, both with our own health and aging, but also with helping our parents.

What’s troubling me as much as anything is how the GOP has responded. Trump has cut social services to the aging population. He instead wants to spend more money on the military. Equally troubling is that the GOP goes along with this.

There’s already a growing rural hospital crisis in the United States. With Trump in office, madly spending, the national debt has crossed the point where it is now larger than our Gross National Product.

Yet, Trump’s spending priorities are geared toward bailing out countries, starting wars or using the military as a stick to threaten other nations. These do nothing to help our nation’s aging citizens. Trump’s policies have instead resulted in higher prices across the spectrum, which makes everything worse for anyone living a marginalized life. Including people like Mom.

Projections show that it’ll probably get worse, with more citizens requiring healthcare and living assistance. Natural supply and demand for personnel, food, assistance, and medical care will further drive up costs.

It’s a terrible spiral. As wealth becomes more concentrated in the hands of billionaires who care mostly for themselves and their businesses, the rest of us will keep sliding further into debt and crisis.

Sadly, that is Trump’s America. As it now stands, it’s the future for far too many.

Some may say that I’m being fatalistic. I reply, I’m just reading the news and watching the trends.

Thursday’s Theme Music – Fronts

Ashland, southern Oregon — April 30, 2026.

A new weather front has moved in. It’s 54 F under layers of clouds and sprinklings of sunshine, a typical Ashlandic spring day. Highs in the upper 70s are forecast for us. Right now, with all those clouds, it feels weirdly chilly.

Good news from the home front. Mom is electing to stay in assisted living and cooperating. She’s also agreed to sell her house and furniture. While it’s welcomed, it’s also so sad for her and our family. She wanted to be there; we wanted her to be there. Yet, practically, it could not work. Personally, I will miss go home, to her house, to hugging her in her living room, chatting with her in her kitchen, helping her with her laundry. And I will miss the many wonderful dishes she used to make. Her potato salad, spaghetti with meatballs, and chili all remain the best I ever had.

I will say, though, my sisters are a little annoying with their texting. They get up early, before six, and text. My first text from them came at 2:12 AM. I have my phone set up to notify me of texts from the family, in case there’s an emergency, but these were casual, informational texts. Okay, rant over.

No, I haven’t spoken to them about it. They’re doing so much to take care of Mom and help, etc. It would be really petty of me to complain to them about the time they send their texts. I’ll just whine here instead. *smile*

I’ve not seen much surface changes on the Trump front. The voting front is rapidly changing as the Roberts Court dish out their rulings and states respond. A situation as messy as first graders fingerpainting is going to get muddy and sloppy. That mud and slop favors the GOP and Trump. That’s why they’re pressing it. Not about democracy; it’s about staying in power.

Meanwhile, it’s been quiet on the Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! front and the Epstein front.

With the war in Iran at a stalemate, more conversations about the US military’s capabilities are emerging, such as this one. And they’re right; as often happens, the military fights the last war. We’re built for vast nuclear battles in the US with technologically sophisticated but expensive systems. Iran is countering us with different tactics and inexpensive weapons.

In a sense, what we’re seeing in this war echoes wars for the US back to the American revolution. The British were fighting an old war. The colonist changed tactics and won.

Changing policies and weapons in the US will be a challenge. As President Eisenhower warned, the military-industrial complex has a firm hand on procurement. Defense companies manage Congress through projects, manufacturing, and employment. We build systems as much for our economy as much as we do for our security. Meanwhile, the public nods agreeably because, ‘patriotism’.

Trump is responding by increasing the defense budget and calling for more expensive weapons systems. He’s pushing hard on a new class of Trump battleships. As with many things Trump, the battleships he envisions are outdated and bloated relics better fit for the past.

As the war stays stall, oil prices are slowly rising. A Gasbuddy AI analysis from March of 2026 is hilarious to read:

“GasBuddy’s latest projection paints a starkly different picture from the past. The company now forecasts the 2026 U.S. gasoline price average to fall to $2.97 per gallon, marking the fourth consecutive annual decline and the lowest average since 2020. This sets up a clear seasonal pattern, with prices expected to peak in May around $3.12 per gallon before declining steadily to a low in December of $2.83 per gallon.”

Mock Paper Scissors found a saner prediction from a Gasbuddy expert:

“GasBuddy’s Patrick De Haan, a widely cited gas price expert, predicts the national average price at the pump will hit $4.50 a gallon within a week (currently $4.30).”

Never to shirk from taking advantage of a bad situation, British Petroleum is making some handsome profits from the war and the world energy situation.

Oil giant BP announces huge rise in profits in first results since Iran war

Your Trump quote of the day:

“Gas prices have risen 49% since the beginning of 2026, according to prices tracked by AAA. They dropped by an average of 7 cents a gallon after a two-week ceasefire was announced last week.”

And as any driver now knows, that drop is already gone.

The Neurons observed my thoughts on fronts and responded. They put Elton John and “All Quiet on the Western Front” from 1979 in my morning mental music stream. Lifted from a movie of the same name, it’s not a song that comes on the radio much. The song’s tempo’s and musical style reminds me of “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” from 1975.

I hope your front is calm and peaceful and that you progress to better and better places for you in all ways possible.

Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music – Wild Life

Ashland, Oregon — Friday, April 17, 2026.

The clock is running; here we go.

It’s up to 44 from its overnight low of 32 F. Clouds and fog were graying the blue sky but now they’re gone. Unbridled sunshine lights up the green spring world. We’re heading for the upper sixties, they say.

Mom’s deadline is today. 30 days ago, she told the assisted living facility she was moving out. She then started searching for someone to ‘take her home’. It’s been a tug of war since. Today is quiet; no texts from Mom or sisters. I wait on pins and needles.

There’s breaking news — again.

Crude oil prices fell to $90 a barrel based on something Iran was said to agree to. The stock markets were quick to shout good news and go up, but then, that is its modern nature.

We won’t know what it means for a while. Higher oil prices are already embedded in our economic fabric. It will take a while to get it out.

Will the war be over? Will the US military forces leave that area? Depends on what Trump’s bones say.

Even if this war ends, what will happen next? What nation will Trump next attack?

Waiting to see when SOUTHCOM kills some more people in boats in the Pacific.

Still waiting to see what else is in the Epstein files.

Still waiting to see what’s really going on with Trump’s health and mind.

That brings me to “Wild Wild Life”, a 1986 song by Talking Heads.

I’d read a piece about Kavanagh saying, oh, based on Dobbs and original intent, the military draft could be illegal, because it’s not mentioned in the Constitution. That encourage me to scowl and mutter about cherry picking precedence and the dead hand of our founders — all white men — orchestrating our response to modern issues via conservatives who want to turn back the clock.

That all triggered Der Neurons to bring “Wild Wild Life” lyrics into the morning mental music stream.

Like sitting on pins and needles
Things fall apart
It’s scientific

Sleeping on the Interstate, oh-oh-oh
Getting wild, wild life
Checking in and checking out, oh-oh-oh
I got ’em, wild, wild life
Spending all of my money and time, oh-oh-oh
On too much wild, wild life
We wanna go and we go where we go, oh-oh-oh
Ah, doing wild, wild life

I know it, that’s how we start, oh-oh-oh
Got some wild, wild life

h/t to musixmatch.com

Hope your wild, wild, Friday is a safe, prosperous, peaceful one for you, maybe with a little celebration and libation. Have the best one you can make.

Coffee, please.

Cheers

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