Tag: family

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Much of North America appears to be trapped in snow and ice. Ashland is dry and 45 F under a blue and white sky with a potential high of 55 F. It’s Wednesday, January 28, 2026. I keep hoping for some snow in the Cascade to build up the snowbank needed to carry us through summer and fall.

Several friends and family members are trapped in Winter Storm Fern’s aftermath. Meteorological forces have the cold air locked into place, so snow and ice will likely hang around for several long days. Power outages remain in eastern Texas, spreading east across several southern states, up into Tennessee. The death toll is 50 to 58 at this point. FEMA updates show that some hybrid hotshot crews are being deployed to help clear debris and set up generators where they can. Early days, yet.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump seems trapped himself. He’s put at statements that he’s trying to de-escalate confrontations and violence between ICE and the citizens of Minnesota. But Trump made comments that do the opposite on Truth Social.

Meanwhile, an ICE agent attempted to enter the Ecuadorian consulate in Minneapolis. DHS denies this, but video evidence exists, contravening — again — DHS claims about what’s going on.

The Neurons chose the Allman Brothers Band’s cover of “Soulshine” for a residency in my morning mental music stream. It’s because, for me, things seem calmer and cooler than in previous days of 2026. I wait to see whether this is a false dawn or a signal of true change.

“Soulshine” by Warren Hayes works because of its message that it can get better.

I grew up thinking that I had it made
Gonna make it on my own
Life can take the strongest man
Make him feel so alone
Now sometimes I feel a cold wind
Blowing through my aching bones
I think back to what my daddy said
He said, “Boy, there is darkness before the dawn”

h/t to Genius.com

I hope it becomes better for all of us, whether we’re in the United States as citizens, or people in other nations. The color, gender, political affiliation doesn’t matter in my thoughts. We need to work together to help one another remains my bottom line.

Best of luck today and every day. May peace and grace find, guide, and hold you. Cheers

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Success & Processing: A Dream

Young, I dreamed I was in the military, except it seemed more like I both was and wasn’t. As the dream unfolds, you’ll see what I mean.

I was at my house, in uniform. It was this house where I live in real life, but located somewhere else. I was going through the house, thinking about what I needed to do when I received a phone call. An agent said a publisher was interested in my book and wanted to talk to me — could I come up next Tuesday?

Hell, yes, was basically my response.

Giddy with excitement, I shared the news with my wife. Then I was informed that the general was arriving for a briefing. Scrambling, I put together a PowerPoint slide presentation, finishing up just when the doorbell rang. The cats ran off as the general and his staff entered.

The general was tall, friendly, white, quiet, and very hands on. As I began the slide show, explaining things, he asked for the controls. Then he tried to take over but didn’t know how to work the controls. I showed him. He then ‘left’ the slideshow app and started going through the material.

At one point, the general stopped. Watching him reading the slide and working the controls, I guessed that he wanted to print something. I showed him how, which he quickly understood.

Noticing the television, the general asked if it worked and requested it be turned on. I turned the TV on but with the sound down. The general took a remote and tried changing the channels. This was an odd-looking remote that was like an old-fashioned television dial on rectangle. He turned the dial but nothing happened. I explained that we didn’t use that remote — it didn’t work with this system, and gave him the correct remote. He then turned the channel.

I took the laptop with the presentation on it to the printer area to retrieve the general’s printouts. Another general was there. This one was younger, less rank, chunkier, white, with a balding head, brown hair, and a thick brown mustache. He was also very gregarious.

I saw that this general was trying to make copies of something. Chuckling, he was saying, “I was ready to retire. I can’t believe I got this assignment. It just fell into my lap. This is wonderful.”

He walked off. Glancing at what he was copying — coupons — I discerned that he’d not done them right. Adjusting the machine and settings, I copied them for him, speaking to my wife as she came up. “Look, hon, he’s copying coupons,” because my wife used to be a coupon hound. She left and left that area as the short general returned.

I showed the short general the copies I made, telling him, “I think this is what you were trying to do.”

He thanked me, agreeing that I’d fixed it for him. Then he took a fat marker and circled something on the page. I didn’t see what and didn’t feel it was my business to look.

Suddenly, he said, “Will you go down and sell my house for me? I need to sell it but I don’t have the time. It’s next Tuesday. I’ll give you $10,000 to do it.”

Seeing me hesitate, he cajoled me into helping him out. On my end, I reacting to him but not saying anything. First, an extra ten grand? Hell, yes. Second, next Tuesday? I have something planned then. I’d need to do both. I also thought, look at all this great stuff happening.

Everyone left. I went around, thinking about all that had transpired. While seeing the guests off, I’d noticed that the yard was weedy and trees needed trimmed. I decided to take care of those things. I went into the house first to tell my wife about the short general’s deal.

Back outside, I discovered that the weeds had almost doubled in size and numbers while I was in the house. Well, I needed to take care of that quick, so I went in and got the equipment. Coming out, I began working on a tree. My wife came out and said something that I didn’t catch.

Dream end.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Today is January 24, 2026.

Saturday came to Ashland dressed in the same weather that Friday wore. Coldish but clear, with sources reporting 36 to 46 degrees F in Ashland, with blue skies. We no longer have a stagnant air advisory and the high will be in the 50s.

As I watch the storm developing in the eastern U.S., I realize that I’ve taken on a new life as a tracker. My tracking life is an old life, but just freshly understood — tracking weather, prices, people’s health along with their moods and situations, and politics.

Sis reports what’s up with Mom, which is mostly moods and mental issues. The truth is, Mom’s issues made co-existing with her a struggle, no matter who it is. A sad trend, sure, but we’ve seen this happening for years. When her boyfriend, Frank, was alive, she complained about him, accusing the 95-year-old of being mean, cheating on her, and secretly plotting and planning unnamed things.

Mom’s prescriptions and credit cards are now the issue. Mom insists she doesn’t have a co-pay; she does until she maxes her deductible. Her credit card was blocked because Frank’s name was on it, too, and his family tried closing it. Sis reports daily rounds about the co-pay and credit cards. Mom is furious with sis because sis argues back and has the receipts, which shows what’s going on. Mom ends with telling sis that sis is being mean — just as Mom used to say about Frank.

As for politics…

Trump requires heavy tracking energy, as that meme shows. His logic defies logic, his history defies history, and his facts defy the truth. That shifts heavy lifting to those aware of these things — tracking them. We know the real story when he says that prescription drugs will be 1,000% (or more) lower or that he’s stopped hundreds of wars and saved millions of lives. We live the truth that the economy and the deficit are not rosy, as he declares.

The Davos show was interesting. According to some reports, he was expected to make an announcement about using 401(k)s to buy houses. But he never mentioned that, instead focusing on himself and disparaging the rest of the world, particularly our allies. Speaking in Switzerland, he said that we’d all be speaking German, if not for the United States, another testament to his vast wasteland of broken understanding.

So much of this places me in a waiting stage, waiting to see what happens with Mom, the economy, politics, the weather, and our life. I’d selected “Wind of Change” by the Scorpions as today’s theme music. It plays in my morning mental music stream, an homage to Francis Buchholz, the group’s bassist who recently died. Written in the USSR during perestroika, the song reflects the sense of change in the nation as realization arrived, the cold war is ending.

Look at the song’s lyrics:

The world is closing in, and did you ever think
That we could be so close like brothers?
The future’s in the air, I can feel it everywhere
I’m blowing with the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away (dream away)
In the wind of change

It’s about moods, expectations, and how they impact us. That’s why I think it perfect for today.

Stay warm, be safe, and keep tracking what matters to you. May the day bring you grace and peace. Cheers

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A Car & Its Driver

I paced the room, waiting for word about my wife’s 2003 Ford Focus. The car was recently stopping on its own, unsafe and inconvenient.

I resisted thinking it was a battery at first. The car cranked up and fired without any issues but then died.

My wife didn’t think it was a battery. “It starts up. Nothing dims, and it doesn’t have that weak, sluggish sound when it starts.”

I agreed in principle. I checked the battery, confirming, no loose wires or cables, intact and clean. A date on the battery’s side, 05 20, surprised me.

Telling my spouse about it, I added, “I didn’t think the battery was that old.”

We reminisced about buying it. Delivering Food & Friends alone because the COVID pandemic was underway, her car died enroute. She called me to rescue her, which I gleefully did to escape the house.

I reminded her, recent ‘high-discharge’ batteries don’t show the same dying battery symptoms we grew up seeing. Then I recalled, it was cold when the car died on her a couple times this week. Cold affects how much energy batteries can deliver.

I decided, checking the battery was where to begin. An appointment at Les Schwab, a mile away, was made for 10 AM this morning.

I started the Focus without any issue; it died five seconds later. I started it again. Death came five seconds later.

Three times was a charm, but I worried about the car dying as I drove to the appointment.

The Les Schwab tech confirmed, bad battery. “One cell is completely dead,” he said.

That fit, to me. A couple hundred dollars later, we believe we have the problem solved.

Whether the problem is truly solved won’t be clear until the car has been driven normally a few times. I have high confidence it’s fixed, though.

But — knock on wood.

Just in case.

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Thirstdaz Theme Music

Today is Thursday, January 22, 2026.

Ashland continues a weather pattern of cold nights, warming days, blue skies, and air stagnation. Blue skies came, went, and returned yesterday. Like yesterday, today’s highs will register over 50.

I’m happy to report that Alexa, online, and my system closely agree that it’s cold this morning. Alexa calls it 31, my system tells me it’s 27 F, and Ashland’s temperature online says, 32. Rejoice!

It looks warmer out there, an illusion of golden sunshine on majestic but naked oak branches lit against sky blue. Stepping out, as Papi will tell you, is a different matter. He did his business and hurried back in to work through breakfast.

Mom and sis each report adjustments have been made, and acceptance of their new relationship is growing. Each still complains about the other but in gentler terms, with more compliments for one another sprinkled in. Hope remains alive that Mom living at sis’s house will eventually thrive.

Sis says they’re preparing for a big winter storm in Pittsburgh, up to twelves inches of snow. She stocked up on baked goods to prepare.

It’s always interesting how things change and stay the same. Weather is one, Mom and sis are another. Trump is a third.

Trump wants Greenland ‘for the United States’, threatening eight allies with tariffs. Global markets responded with fast drops based on worries about a trade war. Whether that impacted Trump’s thinking, he withdrew the tariff threats on those eight nations.

We wait to see what Trump will do next. He promised to cap credit card interest rates by January 20. Didn’t happen.

“We’re going to issue a dividend to our middle-income people and lower-income people, about $2,000,” Trump told the press Nov. 10. “And we’re going to use the remaining tariffs to lower our debt.”

Nobody has received that check. Trump didn’t remember making that promise when people asked about it.

And, let’s not overlook the Trump phone. Promised in 2025, there were rumors of about 600,000 pre-orders. None have been reported as received or delivered.

I’ve heard whispers from some that maybe a tipping point was reached with Trump. I’m not sure that’s so and won’t let myself get optimistic about it.

Thinking about what they’d seen, The Neurons brought up Green Day and their song, “Waiting”.

Now, time to chug coffee and head out to the repair shop to deliver my wife’s vehicle and await their verdict. The car sometimes completely dies without warning. It’s over 20 years old but in good shape, so we have our fingers crossed that something quick and easy will be found. Taking a book with me, in case it’s a long wait.

I hope positive energy fills your day and good things come your way, today and every day. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

“Groundhog Day” weather continues in Ashland. Air stagnation, temperatures between 35 (my system) and 46 F. Dry, with sunshine and blue skies, and highs bouncing between 50 and 60.

As repetitive weather patterns, worse is possible. Mom said the news warned it would be 15 below zero last night in Pittsburgh. I also saw snow down in northern Florida. It’s a topsy turvy weather year — so far!

Mom’s health and moods continue the topsy turvy motif. One day will deliver complaints about sis. Last night, she praised how sweet and thoughtful sis is. This reflects a greater pattern of pain, lucidity, and loopiness which we’ve noted. Mom’s pain and loopiness seem linked.

Mom said she took a long nap and felt so refreshed afterward. She vowed to take more nap, which I encourage, although not to the point that she’s sleeping all day and ends up awake all night. The napping sweet spot, shorter duration in the mid-afternoon is best, but I don’t think she can control that.

Another sister drove Mom to a doctor’s appointment. They decided to take her off blood thinners, hoping that’ll reduce Mom’s falls. I have my fingers crossed that they’re right.

Speaking of topsy-turvy — three times a charm — I think Trump’s message about Greenland has a topsy-turvy tone.

Trump’s Sunday message to Gahr Støre, released by the Norwegian government, read in part, “Considering your Country decided not to give me the Nobel Peace Prize for having stopped 8 Wars PLUS, I no longer feel an obligation to think purely of Peace.”

A nation – Norway – doesn’t give the Nobel Peace Prize. That’s decided by a committee, although they are in Norway, per Alfred Nobel’s will. That’s some topsy-turvy logic. To me, this is like saying that the United States didn’t give a foreign actor an Academy Award, so they’re not doing business with the United States any longer.

It’s not the United States which give Academy Awards, and Norway doesn’t give the Nobel Prizes.

The other way that Trump’s tone is topsy turvy is his response to failing to win the Nobel Peace Prize. Most people failing to achieve a goal, vow trying harder. Imagine a coach not winning the Superbowl, responding, “You didn’t give me the Lombardi Trophy for winning the Superbowl, so I’m going to work less hard.” Topsy turvy!

The Neurons spilled a 1972 song into the morning mental music stream. “Only Solitaire”, by Jethro Tull, is about performers — actors, musicians, politicians — pompously delivering their shows for us.

The Neurons flagged this song for these specific lyrics today:

Court-jesting, never-resting–he must be very cunning
To assume an air of dignity
And bless us all
With his oratory prowess
His lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air

And every night his act’s the same
And so it must be all a game of chess he’s playing–

But you’re wrong, Steve. You see, it’s only solitaire

Reading about Trump today invited these lyrics into my thoughts. It’s the same story from him every night: me, me, me. I am misunderstood, unappreciated, unrecognized, and I give so much.

It’s not the attitude that We the People need. It does fit these topsy turvy times, though.

Hope your day is straightforward happy, joyous, and healthy. Perhaps a tincture of peace and grace will be thrown in. Let’s hope so. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Monday, January 19, 2026 has rolled into Ashland. 32 F at the house, Alexa and the net insist it’s 43. Stagnant air warnings remain, but the blue sky and sunshine offer hope for something better. Highs are expected to kiss 60 F, maybe inch over that.

Why then, am I down?

Something unidentified broke my sleep last night. Papi swears it wasn’t him. Nor do dreams seem like the cause. The three remembered dreams offer the typical blend of wonder, hope, and anxiety. Writing is going well. Maybe my hormones are causing something. Hormones can be sneaky, underhanded energy challenges.

I felt like Dad’s spirit visited me yesterday afternoon. Busy exercising, my mind was free. A sad thought that I couldn’t pick up the phone and call Dad passed through me. Then it was like Dad was suddenly there, grinning and laughing like he was fifty years younger, a startling few moments, to which I smiled.

Dad and I were both in the military for 20 years and enjoyed cars. We also enjoyed robust political discussions.

During my last conversation with him, he told me he disapproved of Trump’s policies and behavior. He also commented that his wife and her family were staunch Trump supporters. Living in Texas, he was surrounded by MAGA, and related that there was ‘no talking to them’. Those folks consistently maintained that Trump could do no wrong.

Frank, Mom’s significant other and Army veteran, scowled when talking about Trump. The man rarely cursed but when he did, it was often in conjunction with Trump.

I’m pleased both of them passed away and won’t need to endure watching Trump’s policies unfold.

The Neurons turned to Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughn to help me climb out of this funk. “Born Under A Bad Sign” plays in the morning mental music stream. I wasn’t born under a bad sign but I feel like I woke up under one today. I’ll indulge in some blues music, sipping coffee, partake of some news and blog posts, and sort myself.

Hope your day starts under a good sign that things will go well for you, perhaps one with hints of peace and grace.

6

Saturdaz Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon, landed on Saturday, January 17, 2026, with a quiet sigh. Freezing fog still plagues us but it’s invisible and doesn’t make us freeze. Temperatures now sit at 55 (my house), 51 (online) and 55 (Alexa) degrees F. Despite air stagnation, freezing fog, and an inversion layer, we’ll hit the mid to upper sixties today.

The snow drought bothers me. I’ve only lived here for 20 years. Dog knows memory is imperfect but this snow season is a monumental shift from my lived-in memories. We don’t usually get much accumulation in Ashland, but we typically get flurries a few times. An inch to three falls, giving us a lovely morning treat before sunshine burns it off into a memory.

There’s been no days like that which I’ve seen this year. I remind myself, this is still January and a couple winter months remain, and spring snow isn’t unusual. Just waiting, I suppose, for a reminder that it is winter.

Waiting for snow, I feel like I’m in stasis. Not the usual stasis where I don’t age and the outside world and I don’t meet. This is more of the stasis of waiting, like, ‘drop the other shoe already’ stasis.

That applies not just to weather. With Frank and Dad gone — two of the triumvirate parental units in my life — I await word on Mom. Regular accounts report her as increasingly less lucid and physically weaker. I think sis does a superb job of helping Mom, and continually thank her in my head and in conversations with her.

Part of my thanks float up whenever I do Food & Friends deliveries. I think, without sis, Mom would probably be in a situation like this, awaiting a knock on the door for a meal delivery, struggling to get to the door and get it open. Many recipients on our route live in nice homes but several lodge in apartments or motel rooms. There must be a better solution that doesn’t cost a gazillion dollars.

Part of my stasis also centers around ICE, especially with Minneapolis. Paul Krugman referred to that city as the ICE crucible, which fits; it’s an ICE experiment for how far Trump can intimidate through force and violence before someone reins him in.

Outside my home, the world spins on its own axis. Trump’s overtures about acquiring Greenland sound more frequently like Putin in Russia talking about Crimea and Ukraine. It strikes me less about geopolitical strategy and more about imperialistic land grab to acquire mineral rights.

So, I wait and wonder, will we go to war over Trump’s Greenland obsession, and how much greater will ICE’s violence against American citizens become?

The Neurons responded to my state with Queen of the Stone Age — “No One Knows”, in the morning mental music stream. The song opens,

‘We get some rules to follow. That and this, these and those, no one knows.’

Those opening lyrics work for my morning mind set. We’re given rules of living but the rules for dying are less defined. Likewise, Trump is a chaos multiplier, breaking rules and establishing his own rules, increasing tension and anxiety.

Hope your day is stress free and strong with hope and grace. Meanwhile, I will break my stasis with coffee and step into the day. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, January 11, 2026, silently settles in around us in Ashland. My wife and I gage the outside weather together.

Alexa told us it’s 36, cloudy, with fog and stagnant air, and a high of 56 F upcoming. My system says it’s 30 F.

“Look at the fog,” my spouse intones.

I nod. “Fortunately, it’s the invisible kind.”

Yes, we can see blue skies, sunshine, and the treed mountains as far as forever and perspective allow us. I suppose other parts of Ashland are soaked in fogs, cloud, and warmer air, and that’s where Alexa gleans her report.

Sis reported that Mom was very loopy this week. Mom again fell out of her wheelchair, again insisting that the chair ‘threw her out’. Sis and I have seen Mom in the chair and warned about leaning too far and not paying enough attention to her posture and balance.

From Mom’s point of view, she was doing everything right. What was going wrong was the chair. But we saw the same thing when she was walking last year but frequently falling. In that case, absently turning and reaching and becoming overextended caused her to fall. She always blamed something else.

Perspectives often matter. Judging from news reports and blogs, politically progressives are as enraged and watchful as me with ICE matters.

It’s dismaying. After an ICE agent killed an unarmed American citizen, Renee Good, in Minneapolis, many called for restraint. Using reports of more ICE confrontations, ICE responded with more aggression.

I watched multiple videos of Good’s encounter and death. They all left me stunned as others. I questioned why ICE agent Ross drew his weapon in the first place. The agent seemed overly aggressive, as if he wanted a chance to shoot.

ICE agents were bellicose, shouting, “Get out of the fucking car.” When Good was shot and the car went off and crashed as she died, someone said, “Bitch.”

I read a report that the killing was the first in Minneapolis in 2026. That doesn’t bode well for a calm and peaceful 2026.

Music helped reclaim some sense of calm this morning. Papi did too, coming by to greet me with chirpy purr-mew. As my oatmeal with cinnamon was made ready, The Neurons put Ray LaMontagne singing “Trouble” in the morning mental music stream.

Trouble
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble
Trouble been doggin’ my soul since the day I was born

Worry
Worry, worry, worry, worry
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone

The song’s lyrics are right. Worry won’t let my mind alone since Trump emerged on the politic scene.

May worry and trouble leave you alone and peace and grace come by and comfort all of us. Cheers

4

Satyrdaz Theme Music

We’ve come to a new 2026 Satryda. Falling on January 10, nothing in my introduction to it portends to anything significant — yet; the day is early.

46 F outside, with clouds and stagnant air planning to shuffle us into the low to mid 50s. Despite storm warnings about snow, none materialized in our town. The surrounding mountains received a chunk. As that’s where the snowbank resides, it’s reassuring that some moisture has been stocked up for the summer. More is still needed.

I’m thinking about patterns today — life, daily, political, weather. A dream inspired the initial thought flow. Then my usual consultation of temperatures, my weather cat — Papi — and the view outside intersected.

Weather shapes our lives, as does technology, relationships, and modern politics. Each day is a snapshot of the present, but we can see the past and future in it. Interpretations of those depends on which details we notice and how we apply knowledge to what we see.

More, some let themselves try to see less to force it into a preconceived framework. They work to strengthen their framework by challenging less.

Conversely, I think knowing less weakens our framework. I always fear that I’m limiting myself, that I’m chasing facts to support assumptions. I know I have biases which emerge to curtail my views.

I can see that happen in the entire spectrum of myself, whether the thoughts are about writing, fiction, sports, weather, politics, or personal relationships. All these things have their own spectrums. I move along them, and they move along me. The resulting dynamics are always complex.

I want to have a fidelity to truth, facts, honesty, and history. But it seems like we’re living in a period in which those elements are under consistent attack.

At the same time, I remind myself that I’ve never lived in another period. I can easily visualize hundreds or thousands of years ago when people struggled to understand and learn the truth and apply it to their lives, just as I’m doing now.

The more things change, the more they remain the same. That’s the essence of all of these thoughts about patterns.

Getting involved with my thoughts, The Neurons planted “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac in the mental morning music stream. The Neurons weren’t focused on the dream aspect, though; they came through with the song’s first lines.

“Well there you go again, you say you want your freedom. Well, who am I to keep you down? It’s only right that you should play the way you feel it.”

Because, you know, beyond all those facts and truths, we’re always dealing too with emotions.

Hope this Satyrda finds you safe and comfortable in your patterns, ready to move forward in positive ways. Cheers

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