Tag: coffee

Books and pastries and coffee, oh my!

Daily writing prompt
If you were going to open up a shop, what would you sell?
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My wife and I have often spoken about opening a book store. But we also like coffee shops, so we amend our play place to be a coffee shop and book store. But I also like deli sandwiches, so…

Yes, in my perfect world, I’d own a three-headed hydra shop selling books, coffee (with pastries), and sandwiches. We’d be playing the blues in there, because coffee shops and blues go together in my mind. Of course, I’ve owned a couple businesses and know, they are not easy work, so I ease away from pursuing the dream. Besides, as my wife likes to relate, someone who owns a book store shouldn’t love books, they should love selling books.

That takeway was from the owner of our favorite book store, Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon. And whenever we talk about opening a book store, we remind ourselves of what he said.

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Fridaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Fridaz political observations from the worldwide net to anger and amuse you, and one to remind you to hope.

Interesting, innit?

Outrageous. A person who never served and has no honor, denying what they earned through their service and honor. What a travesty the United States is becoming under TACO.

Looks like someone visited a cheap hobby store.

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Sundaz Theme Music

Another cool, blue-sky deal rolls into Ashlandia. It’s Sunda, August 3, 2025, and 68 F. Claims are being staked that it’ll be 86 F with thunderstorms later today but I’m living in the now. We’re enjoying this streak of average normal summer. Been a few summers since we’ve had an extended streak, knock wood. Meanwhile sympathies and thoughts to all the places enduring floods, fire, wildfire smoke, and other disasters.

The morning joke between my wife and me is, “What has he done today?” We worry that the mango Offal Office occupant will launch a nuclear strike because he had a bad day at golf or more information about him and his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein was revealed. We joke without humor, “Did he raise tariffs 1,000 percent on food and rooster about how much we’re winning?” We’ve not seen any of his ‘wins’. Prices are still up and climbing. When prices aren’t climbing, it’s often because companies are giving you less for the same price they used to charge.

We were looking at online photos of his White House ‘improvements’. A huge, tacky gold-plated ballroom, with none of the grace of the building that houses the President and their family. Sickening. And look at that paved over Rose Garden. It demonstrates such a bare, empty vision. Yes, that is PINO TACO.

Today’s music came from dialogue with my spouse. We were talking about health issues. I was helping her with putting something on. “Easy, easy,” she cautioned. “Sorry, I answered. “I’ll try to use more care.”

The Neurons snatched that up like a dog going for a dropped piece of bacon. “Handle with Care” by The Traveling Wilburys was soon bouncing through the morning mental music stream. The Wilburys were a pop rock group formed by well-pedigreed pop rock musicians: George Harrison, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, Jeff Lynne, and Bob Dylan. Each claimed to be a Wilbury brother. Their music was fun and relaxed, people with little to prove doing the thing that they loved to do.

“Handle with Care” was the group’s first effort, and it’s most commercially successful. Originally intended to be the B side of a song George Harrison was releasing, record company execs thought it too good for that purpose and suggested the group expand its efforts and make more music. And it all came about with serendipity. George needed another song. He met with Jeff for dinner, but Jeff was already dining with Roy, so the three of them dined together. George invited Jeff to help him with the song, and Roy asked if he could come along. A studio was needed; George remembered that Bob Dylan was local and had a garage studio. Sure, you can use it, Bob said. George needed his guitar, which was over at Tom Petty’s house. Tom asked if he could join because he had nothing else going on.

I mean, come on. What a neighborhood. Much better than mine, where we nod and complain about weather, politics, and prices. Maybe we should start writing songs about that stuff.

Time to rock on. Hope your day finds peace and grace, and perhaps something tasty to eat for your neglected taste buds. I’ve got coffee. Here we go. Cheers

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Other Than That

I’m curious about life after death.

I’m curious about life before life. I’m curious about how life began. I’m curious about how our planet will end.

I’m curious about why we exist, if we exist.

I’m curious about reality.

I’m curious about what my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were like as children. I’m curious about how my ancestors came to the United States. I’m curious about their lives before then.

I’m curious about life on Mars and other planets. I’m curious about the nature of the universe, the nature of energy, the nature of time, and quantum physics.

I’m curious about what is faster than the speed of light and if we will ever find that out.

I’m curious about what life would be like on an atom.

I’m curious about Zeno’s Paradox and other paradoxes and thought experiments.

I’m curious about how technology affects our brains and societies.

I’m curious about what life was like on Earth three thousand years ago.

I’m curious about what we’ll be like in another thousand years.

I’m curious about the dark side of the moon and the far side of the galaxy.

I’m curious about Earth’s first years.

I’m curious about the psychology of people. I’m curious about why the wealthy and powerful want or need more wealth and power. I’m curious about what causes such hatred in some people and why anger and hatred drive people to kill others. I’m curious about why others can be so indifferent to people’s suffering and children starving.

I’m curious about what it is that makes some people so brilliant.

I’m curious about why I struggle to remember scientific words.

I’m curious about charisma.

I’m curious about how the human body works, and how animal bodies work, and fish and birds and plants.

I’m curious about what rocks think and remember.

I’m curious about why we need to sleep and why we dream.

I’m curious about what my dreams mean.

I’m curious about what my cats are thinking when they look at me.

I’m curious about what my wife is thinking, feeling, planning, and remembering. I’m curious about what she really thinks of me.

I’m curious about why art, music, and literature can move me so deeply.

I’m curious about why I like coffee so much.

I’m curious about why I and others are driven to write fiction and tell stories.

I’m curious about the truth behind our world history.

I’m curious about what happened to Atlantis and other ancient places and peoples.

I’m curious about mystery spots and the illusions behind them.

I’m curious about what makes some people so wildly successful while other talented people work hard and remain in the shadows.

I’m curious about fate and destiny and the future and the past.

I’m curious about what the first people who looked up and saw stars thought.

I’m curious about why, what, how, and when.

Other than that, I remain a pretty incurious person.

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Fridaz Theme Music

Frida, July 25, 2025, landed on Ashlandia with a gently familiar thud. Weather is a relaxed blue-sky & sunshine state of being. 70 F now, we’ll be clicking on the low 90s by daylight’s end, which is about our average. No smoke bothers me. The Cram Fire is the largest, 95K of acreage, 77 % contained, north of us. South, in California, is the 19,000 acres Butler Fire. Prevailing conditions are keeping us safe, knock on wood.

Being Frida, the news front is slow and lazy. A shooting at a college in New Mexico results in more gun violence death. Couple police officers were ambushed elsewhere, shot and killed during their lunch break. This will all generate more handwringing but no action. Another handwringing moment hangs in the air as it was revealed that under the guise of ‘shipping out criminals’ during the Venezuelan swap, the United States imported a convicted killer of three. Terrific. Yes, the Trump Regime is always sloppy about vetting the details. But hey, he’s white and male, so it’s okay, right? Beyond that, the story still smokes about how Trump lied to Jerome Powell at the Fed, was called on it, and just blew it off. Lying is what he does, along with posting and sharing fake information, and splashing the world with bellicose hatred. This is the current face of the United States.

Today’s song is an ode to the cat. When he was served up and chowed down, he purred and chirped like, this is just what I needed. Which, yes, compelled The Neurons to serve up the 1978 ditty, “Just What I Needed”. Whole thing gives me a happy smile. A new wave pop song, it was part of the regular FM radio cycle for a while. So easy to hear, easy to understand, non-offensive and easy to sing along to, the cat gets it.

A smoke smell pesters my nostrils. The windows are closed for the day, to be re-opened tonight. I don’t see any discoloration in the sky. Air quality remains good. It’s just me and my olfactory processes working overtime.

Time to advance into the fray. Hope your Frida meets your needs. I’m gonna do my best to fit it to my needs, starting with coffee, I think. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Ashlandia won the early hours with cool air and warm sunshine. My snout detects just a little congestion-inducing smoke. Wenda, July 23, 2025, will be 91 F at the top end, and thirty degrees less on the low side.

I find it hilarious how angry Trump gets when someone talks of him and Jeffrey Epstein. His rage increases and he snaps, “Fake news!” whenever someone talks about Epstein being at Trump’s second marriage. Add in talk of photographs of Trump and Epstein and the mango sloth goes indandescent. He doesn’t want his secret history with Epstein discussed. Nor does he want reminded about how he and Epstein were besties forever, BFFs.

Trump rages over newly surfaced photos of Epstein at president’s second wedding

That Trump can’t sanely discuss it and reflect upon his past with Epstein could be a manifestation of shame and guilt, or a painful reminder to himself and MAGAland that Trump isn’t the great person he’s trying to pretend he is. Just saying. Some folks think it’s all more evidence that Trump is in danger of becoming ‘undone’.

‘In danger of coming undone’: Analyst says Epstein crisis exposed 2 key problems for Trump

My problem with that is it makes the basic, flawed assumption that Trump hasn’t already come undone. Just look at how he’s talking and acting. Sure, it’s worsening but he’s been pretty undone for a while. Maybe we’re looking at the final undoing. Time will tell.

Thinking about Donald Trump and the secret history he has with Jeffrey Epstein and the photographs of the two BFFs hanging out and having a good time invited The Neurons to recall this 1973 Ringo Starr song, “Photograph”. A simple song, I think The Neurons made a fitting choice for Wenzdaz Theme Music.

Have the best Wenzda you can. I’m gonna try for the same. Coffee is juicing the system for me. Here we go. Cheers

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Satyrdaz Wondering Thoughts

I’ve downsized my coffee shop drink. As a familiar there, the baristas are prone to making it as soon as they see me and likewise ringing it up while confirming that I’m getting ‘the usual’.

BTW, I’ve always liked the expression ‘to ring it up’. I’ve written about it before and how it seems so archaic. I haven’t been in a place where the cash register rings with a new purchase in a while.

Sidebar aside, I’ve been educating the baristas about my smaller drink size. Today’s barista said, “May I ask, is it caffeine or price..?”

I smiled. “Nope. It’s waste. I noticed I wasn’t finishing my drink. I’m a boomer and was raised not to waste.”

The twentyish barista said, “Oh, I totally get that. I don’t waste at home. I’m the only one who eats leftovers in my house. It’s crazy, but I don’t want to waste anything.”

“You might be an honorary boomer,” I said.

“Maybe.” She glanced around and leaned forward. “It sure doesn’t come from my family.”

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Sunda’s Theme Music

I begin my Sunda with the summer morning ritual. I step out to rebalance my circadian rhythm, feel the air temp, and give it a sniff test. How hot is it now and how much smoke is polluting the air are the dual concerns. Today it’s now 80 F, up from the 71 F holding when I first went out. We’ll be at 103 F today, a few degrees above yesterday’s 99.8 F. The smoke isn’t bad. I water things and close windows, sealing us against whatever nature is plotting against us today. I have learned that by closing the blinds and windows and keeping everything shut, we’ll be 13-15 degrees cooler than outside. We like to use fans to move the air when it warms, as the air conditioning, while cooling, makes our noses run. My wife is one who needs heat anyway.

This is Sunda, July 13, 2025. It’s a cousin’s birthday, but she passed away. Cancer. Cheery morning thought. Then I ate a lucious moderate-sized fig, savoring the experience with a slow chew, trying to be mindful. I don’t think I’m mindful enough. At 69 yo, can I become more mindful?

I jogged yesterday morning. It was a whim and I wasn’t prepared, just testing myself to see how far I could go before my body rebelled. The Fitbit says that was 2.5 miles, surprising me. It felt good. I jog walked home, thinking that I should combine those words and create a word: jolk. Yes, I jolked home, letting my sweat drip dry. No aftereffects strike this morning, knock wood. I thought I’d hurt somewhere.

ICE and wildfires dominates our news feed. Nextdoor reports an ICE vehicle was spotted in Ashlandia yesterday morning about 9:30 on Ashland Street by the cemetery. People advise others to report it on the app. A judge blocked random ICE raids in LA. We’ll see if this is appealed to the Roberts Court and swatted away. A man died from a fall during a chaotic ICE raid.

Getting news of the local fire plaguing us, the Neil Creek fire, is problematic. Something like 72 fires are burning in southern Oregon and northern California. The Neil Creek fire is closest to us but isn’t threatening anything (last heard) and is not large. Media focus is on the big burners. I understand that but my understanding doesn’t alleviate my frustration over lack of Neil Creek fire information. The last updates were days ago. Also, I haven’t seen or heard tankers since yesterday morning. Surely all this must mean good news, right? I finally find a Neil Creek fire update on Watchduty from fourteen hours ago. It’s five percent contained. Then there’s a summary:

Despite increased fire behavior, crews held fire lines with the help of helicopter water drops. Firefighters continue to strengthen lines and expand mop-up around the fire. Along the south end of the fire, crews removed hazardous standing dead trees to allow firefighters to access the southern perimeter safely.

There was an incident in the night. The neighbor’s dog erupted with furious barking. Bear or cougar, my wife thought, hurrying to the back door. She flicked on the lights and opens the door but stays in, leaning out to look around. I get a flashlight. By then the dog’s owner has talked the dog down and quiet has reclaimed the world.

“Overkill” by Men At Work is in the morning mental music stream. It’s all about the line, “I can’t get to sleep.” I awoke sometime in the night a few hours after the barking dog, mulled and dissected a dream and then the writing muses took over. I wrote for a while in my head before I managed to shut them down with a meditation process I use to induce sleep in myself. But the song remains in the morning mental music stream. While looking for a video to use, I found this accoustic version by Colin Hay, the band’s vocalist, where he’s backed by a choir. I thought it a cool difference maker and offer it to you.

Coffee has been sucked up. Time to press on. Hope your day answers your needs. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

Ashlandia remains in a stable weather pattern for today, June 27, 2025, Frida in our reality. Like yesterday, our highs will encroach on the mid 80s while we enjoy 62 F at the mo.

Ashlandia’s current problem are aggressive deer. This has been an off and on thing and doesn’t usually get as much press as other animals, like cougars and bears. The cougars haven’t been in the news much. The bears have just bee Yogi-ing trash cans. The deer, with new fawns being born, have declared war on dogs and people coming too close. Some of them are bold and forthright, imitating Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, insisting, “You shall not pass.” The dog-walking people, dog leashed, respond to the deer, “But I live there.” It’s a challenge. A city committee studied the issue in 2008 but no effective solutions were found. With four aggressive does finding the NextDoor spotlight in different city areas, it’s recycled into our awareness. That cycle itself is a product of drought; the deer were out of the area when we were parched and conserving water for more than a decade. Now that we’re water rich with thick greenery, the deer are enticed back into the area. Humans (with leashed dogs) and deer are getting acquainted anew.

A pause for silent reflection for Bill Moyer, journalist, press secretary, writer, 1934-2025. Watching him and reading his commentary and essays informed me and shaped my thinking.

Thinking that I wanted to break my current dark cycle, I asked The Neurons to please come up with some chill music for the morning mental music stream. They delivered Carlos Santana with Michelle Branch from 2002 and the “Game of Love”. Wikipedia provided some background to the song that I didn’t know.

The song had originally been recorded with New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander, but album producer Clive Davis felt a female voice would maximize the song’s appeal and a recording of Santana performing “The Game of Love” with Tina Turner as vocalist was completed. When Turner declined to participate in making a video for the track, Davis recruited Macy Gray to record a replacement vocal. When Davis was not satisfied with that version, Michelle Branch was asked to record the song,[2][better source needed] with Branch’s rhythm guitar playing also added to the track. Branch said, “It was the first time for me to sing somebody else’s song. Usually I’m like: ‘Oh I want it this way’ and I’m in charge…I didn’t meet [Carlos Santana at the recording session], I didn’t know what was going on…It felt to me like wow it seems like there’s so much at stake, I’m going to go in there and just sing my heart out and just cross my fingers.”[3]

Coffee is arriving at my major internal waypoints. Time to rock up again. Hope you have a great one. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

It’s supposed to be the first day of summer in Ashlandia: Frida, June 20, 2025. But it’s fifty and has a certain autumn flavor to the air. Sun and blue sky have surrendered to charcoal clouds. Rain veils aren’t there but an atmosphere of impending rain lurks. Today’s high will only be 61.

The cat is not happy. Prancing out for sunshine, he stops and looks around. “Right,” I say. “Where’s the sun?” The cat doesn’t say anything. He’s not much for conversing. “Want to come back in?” I ask. The cat’s gaze at me is rich with skepticism and disappointment. “I can’t control the sun,” I say. “I’m going back in.” I go in and close the door. A few minutes later, I check on the cat. He’s sulking. I open the door. He hurries in. “I agree,” I say. He meows for food and is given a third breakfast to make up for the sunless suffering he endured.

My mouth is healing. This is Post Op Day 2. Teeth are missing from the upper right and left sides. I’m not allowed hot stuff yet. I make oat oatmeal and let it cool, doing the same with my black coffee. I inhale the coffee’s aroma, comforting myself that I can soon gulp down a tepid splash. I make my warm water with salt and swish, rinse, and spit, as required, marking it off my mental checklist, along with two Ibuprofen and my Amoxicillin. I have pain killers but I don’t use them. Just give me some coffee, damn it.

My wife is leaving for the gym. “Do you want me to pick you up anything?” she asks.

“Sunshine,” I sniff.

“I mean food.”

“No.”

I sit and eat my chilled oatmeal and smell my coffee.

I check my phone for texts. Nothing from Dad’s side in Texas nor Mom’s side in Pittsburgh, PA. Guess both of their issues are temporarily abated.

Today’s music is “How Does It Feel” by London Grammar. The Neurons turned it loose in the morning mental music stream after my wife asked how my mouth felt. “Fine,” I answer, feeling grumbly.

The coffee is cool enough to drink. The sky has gotten darker. It’s almost time for my chlorhexidine gluconate oral rinse. I raise my cup and look out the window. “To summer.”

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