Spring has a solid hold on our stretch of valley. 59 F and sunny, we’re heading to the upper 60s today. Good weather if you’re a feline looking for a sunny place to nap…
I will do more yard work. I did all of my tasks yesterday, including pulling weeds. But the weeds have had a very successful year. If I could sell them, I’d be a thousandaire.
I had to again break off part of this post to create a Trump-centric post. I think Trump voters are addicted to hate, and Trump himself addicted to power. He’ll do anything to elevate himself. Lies, fake information, bragging are not beyond him. Nor is AI generated content showing him to be superhero strong, smart, and healthy. To those of us outside of his sphere, we see these things and shake our head, muttering, “What the fuck?” It’s amazing how many of his base can’t see the truth; it’s more amazing to see how many are willing to lie and just go along with Trump. It’s frankly sickening to see how low they’re willing to stoop to pretend things are going great with Trump in office.
Nothing new on Mom nor my health. Just awaiting developments on these fronts.
I ended up with The Neurons playing “Addicted to Love” in the morning mental music stream. It arose from thoughts that Trump is addicted to hate, and his base are addicted to him. I always enjoy the Night of the Proms series so I was pleased to find this video to present.
Hope your life finds you moving forward, healthy, happy, and safe.
Light clouds dappled with gray and white haze the sky. Blue peeks through like a shy child. Sunshine has grown bolder, spreading over the greening valley. 56 F, it’s springy in the best way, with the upper 60s listed as the day’s highs.
My wife and I are going through tasks challenges. Each night we ask the other, “What are you going to get done tomorrow?” The answer must be besides the normal activities. Yesterday, she did the quarterly shredding of receipts. Today, she is cleaning the bottom of the freezer. We have a drawer type freezer. I don’t know what happens in there, but below that drawer gets amazingly messy.
My chores include washing her car, pulling weeds, activating her new ID card, and buying a new phone. I already activated her ID, so I’m 25% done. *smile*
Here’s the long story behind that. I’m retired military, and she’s a retired military spouse. When I retired, my retired military ID became “Indefinite”. It wasn’t really indefinite: a new card was needed when I turned 65. At that point, I was eligible for Medicare Part B. My era’s retired military medical benefits change once I’m eligible for that, as Medicare becomes my primary insurance. My Tricare 4Life becomes my secondary insurance.
My wife’s retired military ID continued expiring every four years. That used to mean a trek to an office where a new card could be issued. The computer systems being used made getting this take about an hour. The local office is in Medford and didn’t do appointments. Everything was walk-in. So we would walk-in, join the line and wait about an hour to 90 minutes.
My wife’s card was expiring in July. Imagine my surprise and delight when the systems reached out and asked if we wanted to renew it online. Why, heck, yeah! Double the surprise when her card now has an “Indefinite” expiration now, too!
Thinking about the political and war news today, and Trump and his support, I wondered, are they dreamers? I’d had a very vivid dream and wondered how their minds work. From my POV, they’re unrealistic and full of illusions and delusions.
Proof of this to me is that Trump says one thing, does another, and it doesn’t work out. He’s done this all his life. He’s had failed businesses and bankruptcies. His supporters say, yes, but he’s a billionaire. Yes, but we know that he built that off his father’s empire, inheriting substantial money, lying, cheating others, suing others to bully them to ‘go along with him’.
Trump breaks promises, laws, rules, and norms. He broke businesses; now he’s breaking our nation, and maybe the world. He’s certainly has made it much messier.
Anyway, with those thoughts stacking in my mind, The Neurons responded with a Supertramp song, “Dreamer”, in the morning mental music stream. That actually had roots in the lyrics “Far out, what a day, a year, a life it is”. Of course, I was shaking my head as I thought it. *smile*
“Dreamer” is a simple song. I found a video of it being done as part of the Night of the Proms series. I always like how the orchestras add to the song. Honestly, I find it fun to watch the musicians and choir.
Hope your day progresses with joy, happiness, and good vibrations for you.
This is just a weird household fact. Weird isn’t even the right word. Really, just something noted.
Here in our household, the clothes washer is just called the washer, or the washing machine. But the dishwasher is always fully said with both words, even though it’s been morphed into one. Examples:
“I’m going to put some stuff into the washer and do a load.” That would be the clothes washer.
“Should we turn on the dishwasher?” Self explanatory.
And now, as I’m writing it out to understand what I think about this, I see how much context plays into the whole scheme. Like, we don’t collect dirty clothes into the washer and then announce that we need to do a load. No, that’s all more systematic. We put the dirty clothes into a wheeled basket. When it’s full or one of us has a specific need for something to be washed.
I’d attributed it to our upbringing. I’m 69. My wife is a year younger. Her family never had a dishwasher. Dishes were always washed by hand. My family acquired their first dishwasher when I was eleven. Mom bought it on sale at Sears for Mother’s Day. So I thought that my wife and I grew up with clothes washers but dishwashers came later. Hence the difference.
Could be a bit of both, I suppose. As a final aside, my wife announced on Friday, “I’m going to wash clothes. Do you need to put anything in there? I’m doing darks.”
“No, I have nothing.”
I went off and did something in the other room. When I came back, she accosted me. “We had so many dirty clothes that I had to split it up into two loads.” She gestured back at the machine. “Why are you wearing so many clothes? Where are you going? What are you doing?”
“I’m just following the norm,” I replied. “You know, clean shirt, clean underwear, clean socks. Just one of each a day. Except socks. I wear a pair of them. I usually wear my pants a few times before washing them.”
“You need to be less clean,” she replied.
I laughed. Being told to be ‘less clean’ was definitely a first.
Munda, September 15, 2025, has settled in against a backdrop of clear blue skies and warm sunshine. Summer is hanging on, taking us from overnight lows in the lower fifties to an 85 F high. All things end, though, and summer’s last days are coming on in the northern hemes.
I spoke to Dad this morning. He’s still in the rehab center. His voice was not strong. This latest ordeal really seemed to suck his life energy out of him. But…it might also be that he had just gotten out of a very hot shower and said he was sleepy. On a more positive side, my wife seems over her illness. She ate yesterday, picked up a book and read, and went to exercise class this morning.
Had a storm of dreams again last night. Went from being in the military trying to get a haircut to being in charge of a process with IBM and ISS, the Internet security companies where I worked, to recover and shut down security equipment. The latter was a messy, disorganized affair, and no one had done anything, so I was taking it on. Out of the blue toward the end, three young women, teenagers, really, appeared to help me with the computers. They weren’t much assistance at first, as they lacked knowledge but they were eager and energetic. With their help, I began wrangling the mess into something bearing some coherency.
Back to some rock ‘n roll for Munda. I was singing “Honky Tonk Kitty” to Papi this morning after he chirped appreciation for the food being delivered to him. Naturally, my song inspired The Neurons to fire up memory of the Rolling Stones tune in the morning mental music stream, as it’s quite similar to what I was singing.
Today’s project is about getting tree branches cut back from the neighboring apartment complex. I’d do it but realized that some of the branches are higher than my reach, even if I’m standing on a pile of books on top of a ladder where they tell you not to stand because it’s unsafe. I’ve reached out to the apartment complex to start a dialogue about my needs and intentions. They were out of office, so I left a message. Next steps would be to talk with them and then get estimates and get ‘er done.
Hope peace and grace find and lift you up today and every day. Coffee is doing some heavy lifting in me today. Time to bounce on into the day. Cheers
When he did chores at home, he always challenged himself with time limits. Vacuum the floors or wax the furniture by such and such time. What will you give me if I do, his neurons always answered, as he rushed about, intent on his artificial goals.
Other people would probably find it silly, maybe childish, making these fake goals, but these small goals helped prop up the day’s structure and keep time from getting away from him. It worked for him, so what did he care what they cared?
A sublime rollout of sunshine woke the valley at 7:21 this morning. True, large swaths of the valley’s population were already awake or now retiring to sleep. Depends on your species and intentions, doesn’t it?
October 13, 2022, has arrived, a Thursday in the common era. A mountainous presence lowered the air’s temperature to a pleasant mid-fifties Fahrenheit overnight. Our meteorologic oracles say temperatures will climb to the high eighties. They said the same yesterday but our sector never saw anything above 81 degrees F. Not that I’m complaining. It was coolish but sunny, comfortable weather for short sleeves and short pants. The lower temperature seems to be a collateral impact from the Cedar Creek smoke veiling the sun. Not too smoky, it’s a moderate haze that manages to pull our air quality to less than ideal level, 63. The solar system’s movement will bring us sunset at 6:32 PM.
Now it’s up to the daylighters to decide what to do in this time and environment. I have a variety of chores and actions needed to catch up with modern demands, which is often known as ‘paperwork’ even when it comes in electronic form. We had a celebratory beer for our departed member, Chris, and planned our annual celebration of being which will be in November this year. Paella is the featured dish.
Of course, I’m sitting here as sunshine completes its morning takeover thinking, okay, it’s time to do this and that. Time to get cleaned up and dressed. Time to make some phone calls, check some emails, read some blogs, write some fiction. Time to watch the Jan 6 hearings, time to —
Well, the point has been driven in, hasn’t it? It was ‘the time’. The Neurons leaped onto the words. “Oh, oh, oh,” they shouted. “Here’s a song about that.”
They began playing “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons from 2012. That delivered me to now, where the song continues rolling through the morning mental music stream. And here I am.
Yes, the coffee is brewed and ready to drink. It’s time to get on with the day and get things done. Stay positive, test negative, and carry on with what you need to do. It’s time, don’t you know.
He realized that many things needed to be done, and that he was the person who needed to do them. A list was made and priorities established, good initial steps. Critically, he would need to remain focused and ignore the call of books and computer games, and keep his energy marshalled.
When you’re vacuuming, you ever notice there’s always one piece, usually lint, but typically a clump of cat fur in our house, that has supernatural powers to resist the vacuum? You run the sweeper over it repeatedly, but it defiantly stays on the floor, sometimes moving around and pretending that it’s been sucked up, only to re-appear a few moments later. Then you’re forced to other courses of action to get it up, even stooping to pick it up and feed it to the vacuum, just to prove who has the power.
Michael Seidel, writer 