Tag: aging

Friday’s Theme Music — Excursions

Ashland, southern Oregon — Friday, May 29, 2026.

Other months have gone by so fast for me this year. May feels like it’s dragging. Looking at the calendar, I’m surprised two more days remain in May.

I looked back at a post last year in May I wrote. I was complaining about the rain then, too. Today is gloomy, rainy, showery, 53 F with 64 high expected. Papi had to bring his outside show inside where he can sleep in dry warmth. Right now, he’s balled himself tight on the bed, eyes closed, snooze position assumed.

My sisters and their others have feverishly worked on cleaning and emptying Mom’s house, preparing it for the realtor’s photos and staging, and making a little money from Mom’s goods. Mom’s bedroom is empty, as is her tiny dining room.

Funny, though, Mom has actually used four different rooms as her bedroom. When she first bought the house, the upstairs was rented out as an apartment. So Mom’s bedroom was what was the dining room. Then she took the top floor back and moved into the ‘big’ bedroom. When Frank moved in, they shared that room for a while. When she started her medical issues, she moved into a smaller room because it was the only one with an air conditioner. Then, last year, with her mobility faltering, the back porch was re-purposed as her bedroom. A beautiful space, she was only in there for a few months.

I visited Mom, noting the changes. Each marked another season of Mom. I think she’s in her final season now.

My wife continues here cleaning/purging frenzy. A drawer, cupboard, or closet each day is done. She sets items out for me to judge: what do they go to? Do we need them? Do they work? What should we do with them?

She told me, “This is the easy stuff. I’m dreading when I get to the big stuff, the things that really matter. It’s going to be tough.”

Over on the Trump front, it’s amazing how quickly the performer lineup for Trump’s America 250 celebration is changing. The venue is called ‘The Great American State Farm’. Many of the artists said they had no idea that it was associated with Trump and turned it down after learning of his involvement. It’s almost like the Trump brand is tainted.

Food prices are up. The NYT reports: “Prepare for sticker shock as summer barbecue season heats up: The price of beef is sizzlingly high. Grilled sirloin will cost more than $14 a pound, on average, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, up 20 percent since last year.”

Sirloin is not alone as a higher price from a year ago:

• Tomatoes — 39.7 percent
• Instant coffee — 22.8 percent
• Coffee — 18.5 percent
• Uncooked beef roasts — 17.8 percent
• Roasted coffee — 17.3 percent

Trump has failed to lower the prices, though. Instead, his actions and policies keep driving food prices up. Energy prices are up, thanks to Trump. And the supply chain has been disrupted, thanks to Trump.

The Trump Iran War continues. So, food prices will continue rising. Trump couldn’t lower them before the war; there’s no reason to believe he’ll be able to after the war — whenever his ‘excursion’ ends.

Besides the war going on, the Epstein files have not been released, and the $1 billion Epstein ballroom is still under construction.

Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! is in a quiet period.

Today’s music is “Purple Rain” by Prince. Two factors played into this. I was talking to Papi about the rain. I was also deciding what to wear. I felt a long sleeve shirt would be appropriate for today. However, I often wear purple on Fridays. I don’t have a long-sleeved purple shirt.

The Neurons put this all together. Voila! “Purple Rain” began playing in the morning mental music stream. Prince said about the song, “When there’s blood in the sky… red and blue = purple. Purple rain pertains to the end of the world and being with the one you love and letting your faith/God guide you through the purple rain.”

Seems right for this time, when we’re divided as a nation into red and blue, and purple is considered a swing area.

May your day be bright with peace and promise.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music – A Short Reminder

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, May 27, 2026.

Wet, gray morning. Furnace is running to keep us warm. 49 F. 72 is the day’s potential high. That depends on when the rain moves on.

We’re not getting a lot of rain, mind. Just showers off and on. Still, the cooler temperatures, while not my preference, are better than hot, dry conditions. Saves our water, etc.

Papi isn’t pleased with the weather. He came in wet and released a plaintive, “Meow,” that’s quite unlike him. Dried him with a towel and bribed him with treats. Now he’s vigorously grooming.

Spent an hour on the phone with Mom yesterday. She called to talk to me about my health. She sounded so tired and struggled to put words together and finish thoughts.

My sister got the power of attorney done and signed an agreement with a realtor to sell Mom’s house. Then I spent an hour with my sister, texting back and forth as she addressed her relationship with one of her daughters. It’s a challenging world. Always has been, a shifting spectrum of needs, problems, and expectations. Memories and history and differences add more unique elements to finding understanding and developing relationships.

Heard from Trump that he’s in perfect health. Despite his struggles with speaking, walking, and staying awake he aced everything! Trump is a documented liar, so I don’t believe a word of it.

Same with Trump’s war and ceasefire with Iran. Epstein files. Mexico and the wall. Golfing. Trump chose golfing over his son’s wedding. Just as he chose other women over his wife — sorry, wives. Oh, but then, Trump must have realized how bad the optics were, golfing instead of attending his son’s wedding, and changed his plans.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump paid for sex with Stormy Daniels in 2006. Melania is his third wife. In addition to his sex with Stormy Daniels, Trump allegedly had a ten-month affair with another woman, Karen McDougal, starting in 2006. Trump is also in the Epstein files but it’s unknown to what degree; just as he reneged on other promises, he reneged on his promise to release the Epstein files.

Instead of releasing the Epstein files, Trump began Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Under this program:

The Epstein ballroom was first supposed to cost $200 million, and would be paid for by private donations. It would then cost 300, no, $400 million. Now the White House asked Congress for one billion dollars for it.

No, I don’t trust a word he says.

Many other Americans also are losing trust in Trump. His disapproval ratings are reaching record levels.

Yet, Republicans just keep walking away from everything Trump does. That thought inspired The Neurons. As I shook my head, dismayed again, The James Gang with Joe Walsh on guitar and vocals, began playing “Walk Away” in the morning mental music stream.

Trump is trashing historic norms and trust in the government. Unlike the GOP, I just can’t walk away.

Hope you have a day memorable with good times, good friends, and good foods.

Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Newport, Oregon — Saturday, May 22, 2026.

It’s 54 F with a high of 60 in sight. The waves are calmer, but the wind continues ransacking the beach. Nobody is down there right now. I did see four small figures walking it an hour ago…

We opened our laptops to see if Trump passed away or if the war was over. Big news is that some Republicans said no to Trump’s ballroom drone port military underground bunker funding request of a cool billion. Seems like its elections optics and not principles. Few are bothering to recall that Trump said it would be built with donations and cost just two hundred million and the American taxpayers would pay nothing.

One of those ‘standing up’ is Susan Collins, who exhibits the same moral fortitude as a feather on the wind. Yeah, I’ not impressed.

Trump’s response: attack those who said no, etc. Says, paraphrasing, ‘This is all according to the plan and we’ve been saying it all along.’ Sure; that’s why there’s no evidence online of that. Question: does he think us all that stupid, or is he that stupid?

He’ll probably steal, er, shift the money from somewhere else. That’s his MO. Screw the laws, constitution, all that.

It’s all part of the same game for him: launch a war, say it’s over, promise it will be over shortly, tell us that it’s not long compared to other wars, tell us it’s not a way. Just like his healthcare plan that never arrived. His promises to lower prices day one. Claim that he’ll ‘fix’ the Lincoln Reflecting Pool for 1.8 million which becomes over ten million.

Still waiting on the Epstein files.

My sister, Gina, is busy selling Mom’s household items and pushing to get the house sold. I admire her energy level and remain really thankful that she’s there to do these things.

Today’s music is by Damn Yankees. I don’t know why “High Enough” is in the morning mental music stream today. It could have to do with a dream, I suppose. The Neurons aren’t connecting the dots for me.

I hope your day goes well, and you go to bed satisfied with what’s transpired for you.

Time for Operation Epic Find Food.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Florence, Oregon — Wednesday, May 20, 2026.

To clarify, we’re actually staying at Heceta Beach, 3 miles north of Florence. Heard from the catsitter. Papi has adjusted to her presence and her feeding him, and is basically acting just as if we’re there.

It’s 60 F now, on its way to 63 F. Here’s this morning beach photo.

We’ve had wonderful, fresh, tasty food everywhere we’ve eaten, and have only met nice folks. Hope to hell I’m not jinxing this by mentioning it.

Yesterday was a bad day for Mom and my sister Gina, Mom’s defacto caregiver. Mom had another UTI, was complaining of dizziness and headaches. Gina took her to urgent care. They said Mom’s UTI isn’t responding to antibiotics and needs something stronger and had Gina take her to a hospital, UPMC East. Well, that was an eight hour ordeal for them, with miscommunication between the two care facilities.

Mom was back into her room around midnight. Gina was shocked at its state; disorganized and messy. Very un-Mom. Mom denies her dizziness is a problem but Gina said she complained about it multiple times. XRays and CT Scans showed nothing.

Gina is also frustrating because the other sisters are ‘too busy’ to help with Mom. She ended up transferring Mom from car to wheelchair to bed, and back, etc, eighteen times yesterday.

Poor Mom. Poor Gina.

This is life.

Haven’t looked at the news this morning. Don’t want to disrupt the vacay vibe by doing that before I’ve had my daily wine and beer. I mean, coffee. Yeah, that’s what I meant.

I did see that Trump’s Iran War is not over. The price of gas is shocking here. Diesel prices are almost at $7 a gallon.

Trump mocked that as ‘peanuts’. He insists he’s a man on a mission to stop Iran from having nuclear weapons, no matter how much pain it cause US citizens and the world. Sure; we believe that. It’s all just part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

Today’s song is “Boys of Summer”. Written by Mike Campbell, a guitarist who played and wrote with Tom Petty, Petty turned the song down. Don Henley took it and had a hit in 1984.

The Neurons put it in the morning mental music stream because several times, I looked out at the beach and saw, “Nobody on the beach.” Recognizing the line from the song, I suppose Les Neurons thought I was trying to remember it.

I hope your day progresses in a satisfying way. I find that coffee helps, along with staying well hydrated with other fluids.

Off to begin Operation Epic Eat Breakfast.

Cheers

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At the Goodwill

My wife and I are on the Oregon coast. We ate a wonderful fresh breakfast at the Fresh Harvest Cafe. Then we hit the local Goodwill.

My wife enjoys visiting Goodwill stores. She likes bargains and she likes re-using things. She did say today, “I’m not buying anything new. I’m death cleaning so whenever I see something I want, I just tell myself, ‘You’ll just have to throw it out.'” Books are the exceptions. We bought four, two for each of us.

Killing time, I wander the store and write a short story in my head. It’s about a future Goodwill. Dystopian situation. A guy ransacks an unused house. There’s a lot of them. Finding a cache of shot glasses, he brings them to the Goodwill. They give him a small bag of peanuts for them. He sits outside in the sunshine, savoring every nut as he eats them.

My sister texted me about her grandson’s birthday. He’s already fifteen, thoroughly discombobulating my brain, which still thinks of him as much younger. His mother is still a teenager in my thoughts. To see that he’s now a teenager is too much. I do the slow math; I was fifty-five when he was born. Time, you know?

Sis tells me that her grandson went to an Escape Room for his birthday. Muses gather in my head to conceptualize fiction about Escape Rooms.

Sis interrupts with a text abut Mom. She’s taken Mom to Urgent Care for another suspected UTI. Mom complains about dizziness as she Mom gets in and out of her wheelchair and the car.

Browsing Goodwill shelves, I see things which might be in my home. I go through an aisle of tools and imagine my tools in there.

I believe I have seen the future.

Leaving the building, I breath in fresh air and smile at the sunshine on my face.

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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.

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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

2

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

1

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.

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