Wednesday’s Theme Music

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.

Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

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

Monday’s Theme Music

It’s a draggin’ Monday. Speaking personally. How else can I speak. Also, it’s a metaphorical speaking, cuz I’m writing.

Monday. March 20, 2023. A series of depressing dreams left me depressed. I feel tired from it all.

The sun managed some light between clouds and rain at 7:14 this morning. Temperature is 36 F with a high of 56 F stealing in. Ashlandia’s sunset, famous around the world for its stupendous resemblance to other landlocked places surrounded by moderate mountains, will be at 7:23. Other than when people are up at one of the mountain wineries sampling a flight, folks rarely mention our sunsets, except for those times when wildfires’ nasty air rewards us with interesting colors.

It’s been raining, and it’s going to rain. As can be expected, it’ll also be mostly cloudy.

I thought I needed a little goofiness infused so I challenged The Neurons to come up with something. They gifted me “Don’t Let’s Start” by They Might Be Giants. The song was released in 1977, but ten years later, in Germany, Bob and I were discussing it at a party, pleased that we knew the song. The convo started when Bob said, “Don’t, don’t, let’s not start,” referencing work, and I replied, “Don’t, don’t, let’s start, this is the worst part.” He told me later, he felt it cemented our friendship.

Alright, coffee is here, and Papi is back in the house, after checking the weather outside — the sun is actually now out, he says, but it’s boring. Stay pos as best as you can. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

His royal floofness was not happy. “Meow,” he thundered quite harshly.

“What is it, my ginger liege?” I asked. Then I petted him and discovered the source of his displeasure. His floofship had been outside and guess what? Yesterday’s vigorous sunshine was replaced by a light but steady rain. No, my flooftator was not pleased with the circumstances, no, not at all. A towel was employed to dry the royal fur. Treats and catnip were administered as salve for his wounded soul.

At least it’s but 44 degrees F. No snow expected, just plentiful rain, about .19 inches, Alexa tells me, if she’s to be believed. High of 46, a drop of twenty from yesterday’s experience. Ah, weather. We can always count on you to change in Ashlandia. Probably having rain now because the sun popped up at 7:16 AM and saw its shadow. So claims Ashlandia lore. Frightened, the sun will hide from itself until it sneaks out of the valley. Weather gnomes say that’ll be 7:22 this evening.

Lovely day for reading, writing, maybe nibbling some food, perhaps napping, perhaps a walk. A day of shying away.

Well, with that, I have “Shy Away” by Twenty One Pilots, a bopping tune from 2021, stuck in the morning mental music stream, replacing the previous occupant, “It’s Raining Again” by Supertramp from 1982. We’re no longer in extreme drought in our county. The net verifies we’ve dropped to moderate drought, which is how 77% of Oregon is classified.

Onward, to things. Stay pos and be cool. I’m up for coffee. Need anything from the kitchen? Okay, here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

It’s 3.14.23. Let’s celebrate with a little pie. My favorite is blueberry. How ’bout you? Reminds me of the wonderful blueberry tarts I used to buy at The American Bakery on Okinawa.

This is Tuesday. Our whiff of spring the last few days was wonderful but today demonstrates they were interludes. Yesterday only reached the mid-fifties, ten degrees short of forecasted high. Rain started during the night, intensifying this morning. With thermometers reading in the low thirties, rain progressed to slush. Heavy flakes finally showed up. Accumulation is beginning. Still, a wet snow, and the temps are expected to snake a little higher by this afternoon. It’s pretty, most exclaim, along with surprise, because it’s been so nice the last several days. It looks like mid-December out there in Ashlandia.

Sunshine on the scene was limited by the situation but was still noted at 7:25 this AM. 7:16 PM will see sunset.

I must confess, I’ve been spoiling one of my cats. He’s an old fellow now. Tucker was one of those who showed up at the door in hungry, desperate circumstances. We took him in, nursed him back to good health, searched for his people. No one ever claimed him. Now he’s my oldest. He loves chicken and luncheon meat. I’d indulged him a few times. Now he’s trained me. I’m buying lunch meat just for him.

I typically buy sandwiches and don’t keep lunch meat in the house. My wife made something with cranberry sauce and suggested I pick up turkey so I can use up the cranberry. I bought the hormone free turkey, along with provolone cheese and dark rye bread. Rye is my second favorite bread.

The sandwiches were great but of course the Tucker toll was paid. I can’t resist. When he sees me with chicken or lunch meat, his demeanor becomes instantly alert, eyes wide and shiny, whiskers spread in hope, ears spearing the sky with their straight up attention. If I start eating without first sharing with him, he steps closer and releases a plaintive wail. I laugh and surrender. Short story made long, I need to pick up more lunch meat.

Today’s music is by Tame Impala. The Neurons suggested this song after they played “That Was Yesterday”, a 1985 song by Foreigner, in the morning mental music stream. While I was thinking about the Foreigner song and contemplating my overnight dreams, The Neurons delivered “Lost in Yesterday” (2020) by Tame Impala. I knew of Tame Impala before this song, but a friend’s daughter introduced me to this particular song. Following her suggestion, I sought the music video later and enjoyed it, as she thought I would. It’s subtle and not subtle. Hope you enjoy it.

Yo, be positive. I have coffee in me, and the positive level is pretty high. Here’s Tame Impala with the music. Cheers

I Don’t Know

The cat is stalking me through the house

Staring at me and asking for something which

Might be a mouse but

I don’t know

And the wife is yelling loudly at me

For something that I was supposed to do yesterday

And all I reply back to her can be

I don’t know

And they’re showing me on the TV screen

Telling a story, the gist is me, and what it’s about

I’m waiting to see ‘cause

I don’t know

The fish in the aquarium was taken to the sea

And if you ask, I’ll tell you it was me

But if you ask why I did it, you probably know

I don’t know

I write this because it had to be

Muses arose and bushwhacked me

I asked them for explanations, see

and they replied,

I don’t know.

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

The cat led him into the feeding area. Bending down to pick up the kibble bag, the man farted.

The snapped around and intensely stared. Total demeanor asked, “What was that?”

The man snorted. “Oh, what an exaggeration. Like you never heard me fart before.”

The cat pranced to his food bowl. Sitting, he emitted a happy chirp and smiled up at the man.

Fursday Theme Music

Sunshine beamed in on gray rays at 6:45 Ashlandia morning time. As the hours scurry past, snow fields lose their battle against heat. Their edges draw in with softer roundness. Reinforcement flurries are flying in later today. Will it be enough? Will it arrive in time? It’s dire for the snow. Caught in the situation, icicles cling to gutters and drainpipes. Crystallized snow falls off branches and leaves with tinkling hisses.

It’s 31 F, on its way to 44 F, according to the weather mongers.

It’s Thursday, March 2, 2023, a hazy wintry shade. Spring has temporarily slid its intentions back into the Ashlandia shadows. But fresh stocks of doughnuts are in stores and bakeries. Sunset arrives in the evening, 6:03.

Les chats aren’t pleased with the weather situation, particularly Papi. His energy boils up. Sunshine reinvigorates him. Tthere he goes, dashing through the snow…well, not dashing, but employing small steps, bean-toeing on his tiny paws — such small murder mittens, he has — back to the house’s inside warmth for distraction. We have things to do, we explain to him, around petting and playing with him. More, he begs with sweet eyes and voice. What are we to do against such a power but obey?

I cleaned our carpetting the other day. As I drifted through that mechanical process, my freed mind contemplated me, my life, my writing. Cleaning house is always a meditative function for me. As thoughts joined and fragmented, I drifted through the usual shallows of who I am, where I’m at, and where I’m hiding. Out of this, The Neurons pulled a song up, dusted it off, and put into into the mental music stream where it still plays this morning. “Holly Holy” by Neil Diamond” when I was a young teenager. Looking it up, records show it was 1969. It wasn’t a popular song among my friends. Too slow and most said, “I don’t understand it.” Nor did I. It’s buildup hooked me, and I sat, listening to the words, trying to get them right, baffled by what I heard. But I heard and understood some of the first lines, “Where I am, what I am, what I believe in,” had me. This is an exploration and a declaration. I identified with it.

Coffee’s aromatic steam rises from my cup, enticing my lips. Stay pos, and own this Thursday like it’s a gift you didn’t expect. Here’s the tune. Cheers

Snowsday’s Theme Music

The rear door was cracked open.

A shout went up. “A runner approaches.”

Papi, the famous ginger cat, galloped in to great applause and cheers. The door was shut and locked behind him.

Locals crowded around the dashing feline. “What’s the word, Papi? What’s it like out there?”

The heroic floof’s amber eyes flashed. His tail slashed the air. “Snow. Everywhere. Up to my belly. And still, it snows. Quick, I need food. Hurry, damn it.”

It’s been about sixteen hours straight of snow falling. Am I sure that it didn’t stop in the night? No. But it was falling whenever I looked. This is the small, dry powdery stuff. Little relative moisture in it. And it’s piling up. Eight inches in some places around my Ashlandia patch. No wind, so there’s no drifts.

It’s Tuesday, February 28, 2022. Sunrise’s ticket was punched at 6:48 AM. Sunset: (trumpet flourish) 6 PM.

The sky is white, as is the ground, and white stuff religiously falls. It’s like the white album. 30 degrees F out there, so not too cold. Today’s high will be 35. Tonight’s line will be 29. It’s a narrow operating margin. Feels like a good day to stay home. Drink coffee, read, write. Got books, will sit. And we have heat, power, all those things, and food. We’re in good shape compared to quake and tornado victims, and homeless folks. The city and churches have opened shelters and established places for people to go. Breakfast and dinner is served.

The Neurons are showing an impish side, playing Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” (1982). “It’s a nice day, for a, white wedding,” Idol sneers. “It’s a nice day to start again.”

Okay.

Stay pos. Hope you’re doing well wherever you be on this day, and that good things happen for you, to you, etc. Coffee is served. Here is Billy. Cheers

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: