Tag: change

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

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Bones of Steel: A Dream

Don’t know exactly where I was but I was younger – middle-aged.

In a building, I could look out windows and see a large body of pale blue water. I seemed to be in a white building, like a lab.

A man was treating another man. I could hear the conversation but really see them. The man treating the other was saying, “I’m injecting him with this.” There was more blah blah which I couldn’t follow.

I kept getting distracted, turning around, looking to see what else was going on, looking out the window. Sunny out there. Inviting.

The man said, “What I’m doing will replace his bones.”

I saw him now, tall, black receding hair, thick black beard, white lab coat. Oh, I realized. He’s injecting the other man with something that will replace his bones with steel. The ‘something’ seemed like a thick green fluid. Well, that could be useful, I thought. If they’re in the military, for example.

Then I realized I was the one being injected. Oh, they’re turning my bones into steel with this fluid. How does it work? How long does it take?

“Not long,” the man replied, as if I’d asked the questions. “We’re almost done.”

Dream end

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Monday’s Theme Music – Waiting

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, April 27, 2026.

Spring continues in Ashland where hefty cumulonimbus clouds are invading the blue sky. 43 F, we’re rich in sunshine at the moment. Rain is expected in the afternoon with a high of 65 F.

It’s a busy morning of waiting. Water showed up on one bathroom floor last week. I did some amateur diagnostics and concluded, 1) blocked sewer line; 2) blew out the toilet wax seal. After researching the DIY, my wife and I reached out to friends for a plumber recommendation.

In parallel, the toilet shutoff valve in the other bathroom began leaking. I turned it off but it kept leaking. I modified an extra kitty litter box to catch the water and empty it. Then water showed up on that floor.

It’s a single story place with stacked drains, etc. So called the plumber last week. He can’t get to us until today, 11:30. That’s my day.

My texts blew up at 2:50 AM. Mom pulled a 180 on us. Had been campaigning to leave assisted living. My sister approached her about staying there, selling the house, etc. Wrote to us, “Mom seems agreeable to selling her house and staying there.”

On the other hand, the staff wanted to take Mom to the hospital because Mom was leaning to the left and her eyes looked bad. Mom said no.

Sis said she would go over and check out the situation today. She is also finally focused on getting a power of attorney and taking Mom to the post office to change her address.

Waiting for updates to see how this all went. I’m not sure why my sister felt a need to send it so early in the AM. It was 5:30 in Pittsburgh…

Trump had three more people killed in the eastern Pacific and Carribbean. Some news articles give Trump cover by saying the deceased were accused of being drug runners or narco-terrorists.

Sorry, but they accused. They weren’t seen in court. There was no jury, just the U.S. military again killing civilians.

That brings the number killed to at least 186 for the Bible-thumping regime.

We’re still waiting on the full Epstein files, and we’re waiting to see what will happen next in Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! We’re also waiting to see what will happen next in Trump’s Iran War, now beginning its ninth week.

I’m also waiting to see how much gas prices will increase in the U.S. this week.

Your Trump quote of the day:

Today’s song is “Waiting” by Green Day. The tune is all about the frustration of waiting for changes and differences — “Wake up!” Billy Joe sings. No wonder The Neurons pulled it into my morning mental music stream.

Hope your day has less waiting than mine and that you end up looking back on it and say, “That was a pretty good day.”

Cheers

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The Long Dream

My wife and I were staying in a white apartment building, in a spacious ground-floor unit.

Located on flat land, seven stories tall, the building was part of a busy area, full of energetic people and planning. Part of this was about the traffic going on with the broad street in front of the house. Other changes involved landscaping.

I had a sort of control where I could receive and send information. As I passed information on, someone in charge approached and asked how I was doing that. I showed them my control, a black rectangle similar to a television remote control. I demonstrated how I pointed it at things, pressed a button, and learned from doing that. I could then point it to someone, press a button, and share that information with that person.

In response to questions, I clarified that, yes, I could do simultaneous information collection and broadcast it to multiple people at the same time. But I also showed him that the remote was old and damaged; several buttons were weak or loose. I sometimes had to hold them in longer before the desired effects took place.

I hinted that I would really appreciate a new one, and they implied they might be able to help.

In another part of my dream, I had five cats. All were cats who previously lived with me and passed away. They were just hanging around the apartment, being cats.

Then a strange cat entered the front door. Resembling a small gray lion, it came in and then paused when it saw our cats.

One of our cats ran right up and attacked it. Our cat and the lion cat wrestled for a few seconds and then our cat pulled away and stretched. “Oh, he’s only playing,” we realized.

We then watched as the other cats interacted. One of our cats attacked one of the others, throwing them down. But then all the fighting stopped and the cats just settled down and washed.

It was then time for my wife and I to leave to go somewhere. As we left our apartment, I saw that the building’s rear landscaping was torn up. All the grass and plants had been removed.

That surprised me and my wife. We talked about it and then another approached and assured us that these plans had been in place for a long time. My wife and I chatted further, admitting, we must have missed the notice.

Dream end

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Monday’s Theme Music – Dreams

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 30, 2026.

We’re looking at a rainy spring day in our valley. Sunshine is on the low side as clouds gather and darken. It’s 49 F with anticipation that we’ll peak in the low sixties today.

Out early to do our monthly Food & Friends delivery, we’re back now and into our daily grooves. Our F&F route was small again, with several favorite regulars missing. We always what’s happened to them and hope for the best.

I had a rush of micro-dreams last night. All of them felt very uplifting. Seeing and remembering them was like watching a strobe light on a crowd of dancers.

Mom remains quiet today but she’s on our minds as my sisters and I exchanged texts about her, remembering her, wondering what’s next. We spent a bit of time remembering Mom and Frank together. They used to love going dancing and to estate sales, or the grands’ concerts and ball games.

They were a sweet couple, but Mom’s illnesses, accidents, aging, and medications changed her.

Trump has also been on my Monday morning mind. I’ve been wondering, what’s next? Tariffs, ICE, Iran War, ballroom, Epstein files, general BS — what’s next?

Trump wants to start signing the currency. The GOP is proposing to issue a 250th Anniversary coin that will feature Trump’s pudgy scowl. Look others, I plan to Sharpie his signature if that comes to pass. I also agree with the premise that the only currency Trump’s face should grace is a wooden nickel or fake funny money.

Stevie Nicks wrote today’s song, “Dreams”. It was a hit for Fleetwood Mac and a personal favorite. Slow moving like a thunderstorm, it’s reflective words and sound carries me into different moods and thoughts. It’s also a song about loss, too, mourning what was and what is now. That’s no doubt why Les Neurons put it into the morning mental music stream.

I took to a different video for it, finding this lovely acoustic version on “Playing for Change”. I hope you enjoy it.

Let’s hope peace and grace arrive and help us all to improved lives.

Cheers

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A Traveling Dream – with Pie!

I was packing all my personal goods up. Part of that was a lot of money, which I and arranged in boxes, cases, bags, and scheduled it to be picked up and taken east.

That done, I sought transportation for myself. I found a bus and bought tickets. Inside were blue seats. I found an open seat and sat. The bus’s seating reminded me more of a widebody jet, except, I saw, it was arranged in a star pattern. Either way, I thought it unusual for a bus and too big.

A crotchety woman was managing the passengers. She announced our itinerary. We were in Maine, heading for New York!

That was wrong! I was supposed to be on the west coast, going east. That’s where I packed my stuff.

Now I worried about my stuff. Had I sent it in the wrong direction?

Then I worried about all that money I’d packed away, fretting that somebody might steal it. I shouldn’t have left it like that, and I should have brought more with me.

A young dark-haired woman in red clothing was in the seat next to me. I recognized her but she apparently didn’t remember me. I played a sly little game, ‘guessing’ things about her because I knew her. She was amazed by how I correctly guessed.

They announced we were in New York and would have a rest stop. The crotchety woman came around serving us slices of pie. I took two pieces and passed them on to other passengers, then ate the third piece. It seemed like some kind of runny custard pie. I didn’t care much for the filling so I only ate the crust.

We arrived at our destination. I don’t know where it was but began looking for my stuff, anxious about how much of it I’d find there. Several of my bags were discovered. Inside them were bundles of cash. I gave some to another traveler because they needed help.

The dream ended as I was walking toward a building, finding and picking up more of my bags.

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Navigating Some Changes: A Dream

It started weird.

In my mid-twenties, I’d been somewhere, had a few drinks, went home. At home was an old girlfriend, visiting someone else, staying the night. Morning broke with sunshine through windows. I realized she was leaving and wanted to get up to say good-bye.

I could not move.

Paralyzed isn’t quite the word. I had no control. My limbs were flopping, weak, uncoordinated.

How did this happen? I kept asking myself. I didn’t much the night before, struggling to remember what I’d eaten, concluding, not much. I suspected someone had spiked my drink.

Thinking over the previous night, my memory pulled up a hypothetical scene where a man dropped something into my dream. I couldn’t guess his motivation and speculated he thought my drink belonged to someone else.

Then, damn – I’m late for work.

In the military again, I scrambled to find a clean uniform and shit, shower, shave.

Rushing out of the house, I headed for a train station and realized, I’m in Germany and I don’t know where I’m going. Nor did I speak the language.

There were long lines and a byzantine system of turns and steps. Putting together clues from what I saw others do, but screwing up, I sometimes got scolded – in German. I studied landmarks for more evidence about where I was, where I was going, then made it to work.

I was just a little late. Eventually I explained to the commander that I thought someone else had spiked my drink. He eagerly agreed, recapping my symptoms and then explaining the same thing happened to him the night before. That greatly relieved me, knowing someone else had gone this. I sensed that he felt the same.

I need to go somewhere else, they told me. Out in the system again, I tried putting pieces together to get to the right place and ended up going too far. Figuring that out, I backtracked until I found the right station. I realized we were sometimes going through people’s personal lands. They were very particular about what was permitted but sometimes changed it. For example, one old, white hair man opened up a door as a shortcut, apparently on a whim. An elderly gray-haired female chastised us when we considered using part of her walk as a shortcut.

Then it was time to go home. I had to figure out where to go, what to do, but fewer people were available. I had to figure it out on my own.

Dream end.

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