He has his routines. After eating his wet food and his kibble, he heads for the desk. His guy is seated behind it, on the computer. There, on the right, is the man’s mouse, used for his computer, his hand resting on it. Eyeing it, he walks around the computer to the mouse hand, and puts his nose down and starts rubbing on his human’s hand. He usually only wants about two to three minutes of rubbing on the mouse hand before settling down for a nap, using the mouse hand as a pillow. That rarely works because the hand and mouse moves, eventually causing him to jump down to find another napping location. But all is well.
He’s had his morning mouse. It’ll suffice until after dinner. Then he’ll have his evening mouse.
Entering our consciousness just after midnight, Wednesday, October 26, 2022, sailed in under a gray curtain of rain and trumpets of gusty winds. Sunlight’s arrival at 7:36 AM brought up pre-winter conditions. Frost advisories have been kicked out. Temperatures are dropping. Lovely rain extended its visitation rights. Streams and creeks grow swollen with contributions out of mountains, gutters, and drain systems.
It’s 5 degrees C right now. We’re told — and they’re usually pretty close on these things — 51 F will be seen by the afternoon. The sun’s departure at 6:13 PM will kick the temperature back down the stairs toward the lower thirties.
We were reflecting on Halloween’s approach. Until last week, it felt like summer here. Trees hadn’t turned, temperatures remained in the eighties, sunshine and blue skies lorded over the valley. Summer, right? Then a cosmic meteorological switch was turned and autumn crashed down. Suddenly, summer was gone and, hello, it’s Halloween? What? Seriously?
And now October is finalizing its last day plans. Enjoy it while you can. I don’t want to be a spoiler, but I can tell you that there will be a change next Tuesday.
A cat inspired The Neurons for today’s music. Papi, energetic from being housebound when the rains and temperatures dropped suddenly declared last night, “Enough of this! I want out!” Yes, I warned him, it’s no longer summer out there. But he’s a cat. Did he listen? Of course he did. But he ignored me. Because he’s a cat and ruler of whatever he thinks he can get away with ruling.
So he went out. And came back in. And wanted back out. No, in! Out! In! Out! Well, yeah, by the fourth time, I refused to play the game. But my wife was awoken by his efforts to get in and did his bidding, only for him to come to me and say, with pleading eyes, “Please, sir, let me out.”
At some point in all this, I told him, “I love you but you’re driving me crazy.” Well, yeah, Der Neurons liked that and fired up some Sammy Hagar in the morning mental music stream. His song, “Your Love Is Driving Me Crazy” (1983), has been playing in my head since serious dark thirty.
Although October may be ending (or maybe not!), keep wearing your positive pants. You know the ones, the ones which you’ve decided brings you good luck because you got a free coffee once when you were wearing them and people compliment you and are nicer, and you were told you got a promotion that one time, and you always get better traffic flow when you have them on, seriously. Also, continue to test negative.
I’m up for coffee. Anyone else? Here’s Sammy. Cheers
Biflooflent(floofinition) – Animals associated in pairs.
In use: “With two dogs, three cats, and a bird, the large male cat and little parakeet were an odd but loyal biflooflent set, always together napping, bathing, peering out windows, and eating. The bird was even with the cat in the litter box.”
The Tucker floof awoke me with song at an early time. “Get up, get up, it’s time to eat. Get up, get up, no time to sleep. Get up, get up, feed me some food. Get up, get up, or I’ll keep up this tune.”
Which he did. So I did. That makes this Mewsday.
The sky crashed down on his last night. Well, starting just after two in the afternoon, winds shifted, bringing the Rum Creek fire‘s smoke right down the I-5 corridor, changing the color of our air quality indicators from green to red like a traffic signal at work. Although it looks and smells better today, we’re at 152, red, and not good. Actually, the peculiarities of the narrowing valley and slope that I live on brings the air quality down to a more endurable 105. A wind shift can take that away, making us like the rest of the city.
Sunrise was a mellow and uneventful period at 6:33 AM. Sunset cometh at 7:50 PM. Cool 54 F now but a high of 34 C is on deck.
Got a Tom Petty song in mind. Heard it on the radio the other day. The Neurons said, “We like this,” and kept it on as background music in the mental music stream since. The song is “Leave Virginia Alone”. I remember hearing the Rod Stewart version back in 1995. Didn’t move me deeply. I was unaware that Tom Petty wrote it, learning that later, when he covered it himself. It sounds more like a Tom Petty style song than a Rod vehicle to me.
Okay, where is the coffee, please? The cats have abandoned me. Tucker is silent and coffee is needed. Stay positive, test neggy, etc. Have a good Monday, whatever that means on your spectrum. Here’s the song. A little mellow for a coffee-less Monday to my ears but it makes The Neurons happy. Cheers
Today is Freeday, August 5, 2022. Today you have the right to declare yourself symbolically free. Sounds like a waste but when you do so, using whatever styles desired short of hurting and killing other beings, it’s invigorating, liberating, stimulating, and intoxicating.
Weather is a very comfortable hazy and cool 72 F after an overnight low of 14 C. Highs of 94 F are expected. Freeday opened with a smooth and deliberate sunrise at 6:08 AM. Daylight hours will continue until the sun ‘drop’ at 8:25 this evening. All times are Pacific.
AQI is good. More fires have started, some have been partially contained, others have been extinguished.
Watched my cat, the ginger prince, study a large raccoon using the top of the back fence as a freeway about six thirty this morning. Meanwhile, as that went on, I tracked a skunk going around the yard. The skunk stayed to the perimeter, going through the leaves and making a lot of noise about it. Papi paid no mind to it. Once the Raccoon departed, Papi hopped up onto his patio condo – guess that’d be a pando – and went to sleep. What did fascinate me about the skunk was that a jay flew from tree to tree, spying on the skunk, never making a sound.
The Neurons had several Beach Boys and Beatles song skirmishing in the morning mental music stream. I called up Kings of Leon with “Sex on Fire” from 2008. The Neurons asked, “Why that song?” Tables turned, I replied, “Why not,” and laughed. It’s because I like the sonic influences, though, innit?
The coffee has commenced issuing its wake-up fragrance. I’m in the mood to have a cup. Stay positive test negative, etc. Here’s the music. Cheers
Heard a loud crash reverberate through the night last night. Shook the windows and threw me out of my chair. Investigation revealed that Wednesday, August 3, 2022, had arrived.
Sunrise was at 6:06 this morning, a sketching of faint pastels relieving night’s fading grays. Our temperature pumped up to 21 C from a start of 65 F, with a high of 97 F in sight for today. Skies are clear except for charcoal scratchings brought on by smoke. The McKinney Fire still burns, still less than one percent contained, unlined, but rain slowed its spread. Other fires have sprung up and are being dealt with. We were fortunate that with all the lightning strikes of the last 24 hours, we were spared, knock on wood. Sunset was a bold, lingering red splash yesterday and I think we’ll have the same today at 8:28 PM.
I was watching my ginger sweetness do a dash. He’s a cat who loves to dash about doing good. As I teased him, “Why are you running from place to place,” The Neurons said, “Oh, we know this song.” That’s how I came to have “Saving Grace” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (2006) in the morning mental music stream. I enjoy the song’s purer rock sensibilities, which is something I think that Petty always brought to his music. His was a simple approach.
Stay positive, try to be cheerful, test negative, have a nip of coffee. Don’t mind if I do. Here’s the music with the late Petty recorded live. Cheers
Just after sunrise at 6:02 AM, the sun began clearing the mountains and threw unmistakable blood-orange light through the windows. Smoke hazes and clots the air. Wildfires are burning somewhere. We can smell it. Our AQI has jumped to 90 around our part of town, 117 downtown, two miles away. Either the fire is nearby, or the winds and terrains are lifting and channeling it in our direction.
Good morning! Today is Saturday, July 30, 2022. One more day and then July is history. On to August.
Yesterday reached 112 F at our house. That was my home weather station’s reading. The net claimed 109. Alexa agreed. At 8:30 AM, it’s 81 F. The humidity has gone up. It’s only 39% but it feels heavier. Today’s high is expected to reach 106 F before sunset @ 8:32 this evening. The overnight low was 75 F last night.
That overnight low staying so high hurt. We kept waiting for the air to cool down outside so we could open doors and windows. It finally dropped below 90 at 11 PM. Yes, some relief. Then a skunk struck. Maybe two. The house was re-sealed for an hour while the winds scrubbed the odor away.
The heat affected our big black and white cat, Tucker. He’s older, and older cats struggle to deal with extreme heat. I brought him in, dampened a washcloth with cold water, and rubbed him down a few times. He really enjoyed it and is quite energetic this morning, with a strong appetite. Now, he’s resting by my right hand, providing editorial guidance. Papi, of course, is all, “It’s cool. I’m good.” I keep an eye on him. He appears to be telling the truth.
The Neurons are playing “Lovesong” by The Cure in the morning mental music stream. They’d started with “Friday I’m In Love” and then segued into “Just Like Heaven” before launching “Lovesong”. I asked them, “What’s with the medley? What do you know that I don’t?” They, sipping their espressos, snickered and replied, “Ho, ho, a lot.”
“Lovesong” came out in 1989. I was still in the military, in Germany, then, and found I really enjoyed the song’s moodiness. Hope you enjoy it on this July Saturday, 2022.
Stay positive, test negative, and take care of yourself, yeah? Sure. Back to reading. Back to writing. Back to a cup of coffee. Then, things to do. It’s Saturday, you know. Cheers
An insistence buzzing breaks my sleepwall. As consciousness is dragged forward, so comes awareness that this noise is arriving from the Fitbit on my wrist. Yes, I’m one of those who sleep with a bit on my wrist. Use it to wake up, check time, a quick splash of illumination when necessary, and such matters. But why at whatever broiling dark thirty hour was it going off?
Don’t know. Checked the digitalware and found it cycling through its functions. Perhaps it’d gone crazy from heat or being with me. It’s a Charge 2, an old device that’s not even supported any longer. I’ve worn the bugger for years, going through fasteners and bands.
A smart person would have plucked that sucker off their wrist and gone back to sleep. But I ignored it, leaving it on my wrist, as it came up and buzzed every three seconds, announcing, “Notification” like it was telling me nukes were inbound or fire was consuming the house. Eventually, no surprise, all those notifications sucked the life right out of it. It was totally dead when Tucker awoke me for Sixes, his affectionate term for a six AM feeding. He was meowing, “Get up, get up, time for sixes.” I put the FB on a charger. My wife started her day shortly later. I told her about the Fitbit and asked her to wake me when she left for her exercise class because I was going back to bed.
“It’s probably dead,” she said. “You probably need a new one. It is old.” Then she promised to wake me.
The final exchange left me wondering about electronic lifespans among devices and their ratio compared to human years. It probably varies to some degree between, say, microwave ovens and iPhones. I decided, without real reason except how often and quickly our tech marvels expire, that one human year equals ten digital years. Your ten-year-old electronic device is 100 in digital years. JMO.
When I checked on the Fitbit an hour later, it was fully charged and alive. My dashboard showed no data lost except for about two dark hours.
All’s well, then, though, looking at it, I could use a new band. This one looks fifty years old. Makes sense. I bought it four years ago.
105 F is today’s magic number. Ashland’s forecast high temperature, keep it in mind as you plan and pursue activities. Cooling shelters have been set up around town at churches, community centers, and the library.
The house system says it’s 66 F outside. Alexa claims it’s 21 C in Ashland, where I reside. The net says it’s 74. It all makes sense because they’re all correct. Depends on where you live, the mountains’ shadows, and the sun’s reach, yeah? Hope the weather is kind to you wherever you are. If it’s not, then I hope you’re in a safe place.
Another week has begun. This is Monday, July 25, 2022. July has entered the final stretch. 2022 is halfway through summer in the northern hemisphere.
Old Tucker was active last night. The big guy was feeling it. I opened the back door just after midnight to let in some cooling air and check upon them. When I flicked on the light, I saw Tucker dash out into the yard. He seemed to be after something. Well, the light was bad so I dropped back for a flashlight. When I illuminated the scene, I saw a young raccoon facing off with my cat. The raccoon was a little larger than my boy but Tucker goes aggro with animals. I called for him to come back. The raccoon tried to make an escape. Tucker gave chase, but the raccoon made it into a bush. Tucker sat there to ensure the critter didn’t leave. I went out an coaxed Tucker back, allowing the other to make their escape.
Meanwhile, the orange menace known as Papi, aka Meep, had watched all this from the patio’s safety. Once Tucker returned and the raccoon was gone, Papi went over there and laid down in front of the bush where rocky raccoon had taken refuge. He just grinned at my efforts to get him back in.
“Everyday Is a Winding Road” by Sheryl Crow (1996) has settled into the morning mental music stream. The Neurons riffed on my thought upon reading some news and thinking, “Well, anything goes these days.” The Neurons promptly launched the song, homing in on the lyrics, “Everybody gets high, everybody gets low, these are the days when anything goes.” Like almost every song residing in my mental juke box, the song has a story attached, although it’s just a regular tale of hearing the melody during my Silicon Valley commutes, passing the time as we motor slowly through the webs of interchanges clotted with cars.
Stay pos, etc. It’s still cool so I’ll refresh with a little hot java, yeah? Yeah. Have a better one.
Michael Seidel, writer 