Tag: family

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Smokytitis

It’s a beautiful summer morning *cough cough*. Except for the smoke in the valley.

Yes, Ashlandia has awoken to smoke in our air on this Friday, June 21, 2024. It’ 70 F out and is expected to clip 93 F. The smoke will cut the high by a few but the smoke’s impact, scratching throats and eyes, congesting noses and sinuses, stirring up infections and limiting outdoor activities, is depressing. Still not as bad as weather in other states

Completed my DIY plumbing yesterday. Took most of the day, a chunk of energy, and three trips to the hardware store. It all worked out, though. My keywords for completing it were persistence, seating, alignment, and tighten. Satisfying and rewarding, once I finished it. And again, I learned.

For relaxation last night, we headed to Lithia Park in the downtown zone for the city band’s concert. It was a sweet, comfortable time as they presented a mixed box of sounds from the 1900s. Three bucks showed up at the park. One enlivened the show by visiting with some patrons and then dashing across the lawn in front of the band. That earned him a light spatter of applause. The other two came up to the front, surveyed the scene, and went around it behind the bandshell.

Back home, the net went out for the evening, so we reverted to reading books and light housecleaning.

On personal matters, my ankle is doing better. Don’t think I’ve noticed swelling in the last two days. There is stiffness. Mostly, there’s distrust. I’m leery of trusting it not to go out. I’m still wrapping it for support and I’m avoiding certain movements with it but I’m mostly walking sans limp.

Spoke with Mom. She’s not happy with her hospital bed. I think it’s a matter of adjustments, as its smaller shape had an impact on how things were arranged, forcing new arrangments to her personal area. That comes with challenges.

Over on Dad’s side, good news abounds. Took ten pounds of fluids out of him. He’s complaining about his kidney-friendly diet and is being moved from ICU to a private acute rehab room. So, hurrah there. A dialysis decision has His wife told me that she’d been worried about costs, but his Medicare and Tricare-for-Life pays for it all. The system works, at least for him. So will respond, yes, because he’s a white man. And they’re probably right but I hope we reach a point that all can be treated in the same way.

The Neurons, being not very original, have an abundance of smoke-themed songs in the morning mental music stream (Trademark hazy). One persistent song was “Smoke from A Distant Fire”, a 1977 hit for Sanford & Towsend. But I shouted, “Get thee back with that music!” That ignited skitter mode in the floofs because they thought I addressed them. I finished to The Neurons, “I reject that song for today and that whole damn attitude. That sent The Neurons afluttering because I’d not even imbibed coffee yet.

Papi then approached to pet me. As scritches were exchanged, The Neurons found an old song, “Jeepster”, and began playing it in the morning mental music stream. Although the T-Rex song came out in 1971, it has a mid to late 1960s sound to my ears. Either way, it’s a fine, upbeat offering for today’s theme music.

Coffee has now been enjoyed. Smoke is lazily graying the azure sky. Don’t know from whence the it originates — the smoke not the sky — but it’s time for me to go rock and roll. Remain pos, be strong, lean forward, and rock on. Here’s the music. There I go, a leaf on the wind. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Humpnotized

I was gently serenaded awake by the dulcet tones of a cat upchucking somewhere nearby. Investigating, I found it was Tucker heaving up kibble and a hairball. Fortunately, I had an exercise towel down. It was for foot and leg exercises to cope with my ankle injury, based on recommendations from my sister, a physical therapist. Tucker and Papi had staked out the green towel as the new ideal napping spot in the house. That’s where Tucker was sleeping when I went to bed. Apparently, he slept there until he awoke and puked.

That’s how my Wednesday, June 19, 2024 began. Hope yours was better. I raise my coffee cup to Juneteenth and my fellow Americans who celebrate it for all the right reasons.

Spring’s hold is weakening in Ashlandia. Sprummer has burst back onto the scene. It is a beautiful blue skied morning. Sunshine baths runners, bikers, grooming cats, and everything else under the sky. 61 F, today’s high will bounce into the low 90s. With this abrupt weather shift will come high winds.

After the puke check, I squirmed back into bed, and then tumbled with dreams and thoughts. The thoughts went down a parental aisle. Dad in the hospital. Mom was there in April. The two are divorced, with new partners. They actually divorced over fifty years ago. Dad has been with his ‘new wife’ for 35 years, his third marriage. Mom has been with her beau since 2009. Family whispers say that she’s been married seven times. Mom has a secretive gene so vetting information is a challenge.

Mom professes to constant pain. She complains frequently and often about her existence, frequently demanding her daughters’ attention, repeatedly regaling all of us with tales hospital visits, doctor appointments, and health details. Going backwards, appendicities, and before that, a perforated appendix put her in the hospital. Her pacemaker was replaced. COVID hospitalization, spinal stenosis, swollen foot (but not edema, she tells me, although she had sixteen lymph nodes removed during foot surgery), and of course, fifteen years ago, the disastrous fall down the steps. She sleeps with a mask on to help with her breathing because of emphysema. Hardly able to walk, she insists on tottering around the house to clean it, though to most eyes, it’s immaculate. She takes dozens of medications, vitamins, minerals, and supplements.

Dad tells me from his hospital bed, “I’m fine,” with a chuckle. “They have a hundred doctors helping me. They want to put me on dialysis but at my age, they worry about whether I’d survive the procedure.” He’s been stented over ten years ago. Uses a wheelchair and a cane. Has oxygen at home, which he insists that he doesn’t use. Only his wife is there to help him.

Mom always complains about her beau. He can’t hear, she says, and I’ve witnessed the truth of the 94-year-old man’s hearing issues. “He’s forgetful,” she angrily hisses. “I always have to tell him things and make him lists.”

Dad’s wife laughs about Dad and his idiosyncrasies. He never says a harsh word about her.

What a difference their worlds are.

Today’s song choice by Les Neurons is a little ditty called “Twilight Zone (When the Bullet Hits the Bone)” by Golden Earring from 1982. A song inspired by an adventure spy novel, it’s presence in my morning mental music stream (Trademark split) is all on me. See, I was feeding the cats and somehow ended up singing, “You will come to know when the kibble hits the bowl.” That’s a variation of Twilight’s chorus, “You will come to know when the bullet hits the bone.”

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue for 2024. Coffee has stolen into my body. Here is the music video. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: hyperhappy (could be due to coffee)

It was the best of rains. Falling lightly and fitfully, it wet the land and added a little rise to the streams but caused no issues. That’s the best of rains.

Today is Tuesday, June 18, 2024. Spring continues holding on. Low temps last night dipped into the bottom forties. Now it’s fifty. Sunshine and blue skies reign. A high of 80 F is expected. The wind is whispering, “It’ll be 90 tomorrow.”

My wife was over at the coffee pot, leaning over and whispering to it as the coffee dribble out. Looked like she might’ve been pleading with it. I don’t know. What goes on between a person and their coffee stays between them and their coffee.

Spoke with Dad’s wife last night. We discussed his situation and DNR and Advanced Directives. He has a kidney issue and congestive heart failure. Dialysis is on the table for him but can he survive the procedure is the question. We shall see.

I spoke with him on the phone this morning after putting it off because his wife said he didn’t want to talk. He’s as spirited and congenial as ever. Sounds just as he did twenty year ago.

For fun, I watched Jon Stewart addressing GOP fears about crime. In a coink-dink, I’d checked out FoxNews.com with my morning reading yesterday. I’d already checked out a bunch of ‘liberal’ sites like the NYTimes, WaPo, the HoustonChronicle and others, so I wanted to see what was being presented in the fair and balanced realm called FoxNews.

Well, holy macaroni, that is one dark space. Everything is crashing, burning, flooding, or dying in their world. Actually, that’s pretty much happening in our existence, too, but we don’t see everything and paint it as black as possible and hyper-sensationalized it. Mind boggling.

Anyway, Stewart’s take on the GOP’s take on crime was humorous. Despite what the FBI says about crime being down, the right ‘feels’ like it’s unsafe. As Stewart points out, could it be because rightwing news outlets, pundits, and politicians keep screaming about how dangerous the cities are, despite the statistics? But the most irritating point that Stewarts latches onto, just as most Democrats do, is that the Republicans are screaming about the gun violence even though their inaction against gun controls is what allows guns to flood our cities. Like teasing a cougar and then crying because it mauled you.

For music, The Neurons rolled “Clementine”, also known by some as “Oh My Darling Clementine”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark edgy). Wikipedia credits the song with being around in 1884, well before my birth. But I’ve heard it in movies and cartoons, and even sang it myself, so I am familiar with it. I challenged The Neurons’ thinking on this song choice. but they stayed mute as a baby’s bottom. Sometime later, they changed the song to “Gimme Some Lovin'” by the Spencer Davis Group from 1966, though again, without revealing why that song was chosen. But I’ll stay with it ‘cuz I like its energy and that organ and the whole song’s upbeat vibe.

Off to the grower’s market. Happens every Tuesday from May to September in Ashlandia, where the produce is fresh and organic. Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Oh my darlin’, cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music*

*Began publishing this as Sunday’s theme music. Because I thought it was Sunday. My internal calendar is untethered with my routines disrupted. My apologies.

Mood: Springflective

Spring has taken over Ashlandia on this day in June’s middle. A flotilla of menacing clouds have surmounted the mountains surrounding the valley, blocking the sun’s effects, and holding our temperature hostage in the low fifties. Saturday, June 15, 2024, will likely only face high temperatures in the upper sixties today, ending our unusually warm streak — for this time of year, of course.

Fire season has begun and there are already several on the maps to be watched to see how they grow, what direction they take, how long until they’re under control, and what happens with the smoke.

Dad went into the hospital yesterday. He’s in his early nineties so a visit there once in a while isn’t a great surprise. I mean, he grew up during the cigarette’s heyday and was a smoker, first of Lucky Strikes, and then shifting to pipes and cigars. He quit smoking thirty to forty years ago but the damage was done. He also spent 20 years in the military and was exposed to carcinogenic stuff during his tours, and survived a tour of Vietnam, too.

His current issues began with an enlarged prostrate which blocked his bladder. One kidney has apparently failed, quite some time ago, according to his wife, though Dad never mentioned this. Nor has he ever mentioned that they wanted to start him on dialysis. But the issue du jour is fluid around his heart. He’s been stented before and has had edema issues but this is a new one. So they’re going to drain away that fluid. The stay is basically observation, they said *cough cough*.

Dad, though, was recalcitrant to go into the hospital. His wife said that after the doctor saw Dad’s test results, Doc called Dad and asked him to go to ER, which Dad did. But when they wanted to admit him for obs, he refused to give his permission. Went on for hours. Dad demanded a second opinion. So a second team came in and evaluated him, and agreed, he should be admitted to the hospital. Dad finally gave his permission at 12:30 AM Friday morning after arriving Thursday afternoon. His wife said she left the hospital bone tired but encountered a huge thunderstorm. Not wanting to drive the highways and Interstates of San Antonio, Texas, in the rain, she found a chair and spent the night sleeping in it.

Gotta call them to get the lowdown on here and now.

If you ever read my blog, you can imagine how The Neurons reacted to news about Dad and his health. All manner of songs, poetry, and essays skated through the mental scene while I reflected about who I think Dad is and how he influenced me. As I’m still trying to figure him at with me at 68 years old, I ended up with “Alive” by Pearl Jam from 1991 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark grandfathered). Of course, figuring out Dad is a moving target. I’m changing in slow ways most days, and so is he. We don’t see one another often — he lives in Texas and I live in Oregon — and we don’t talk often. We try, and we mean to, but we’re the same in that way, sort of strange loners who socialize well but aren’t terribly sentimental. We can hazard the company of others but we’re very satisfied being on our own.

Stay strong, be well, keep positive. Endure, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Got my coffee so we can rock on. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sprummery

“You make me feel so young,” I told the day. “You make me feel like summer has come.”

Yes, it’s sprummer in Ashlandia, where the crows’ conversations dominate the morning’s sounds. Today is Jun 6, 2024. School is out. Light clouds sketch patterns over the blue sky but mild haze mars our western view. Dust, pollen, fire somewhere? Don’t know yet.

Our temperature currently resides at 70 F. That’s a temporary stop, up sixteen from when the cats forced me out of bed. 88 F is our forecasted high.

In surprise news, Mom is receiving her hospital bed back in Penn Hills. Last that I knew, back on Monday, more paperwork of an unexplained nature was needed. Now, bang, the bed is being delivered today.

The news set up falling dominos of actions and reactions. Mom immediately called daughters to come over with their hubbies to dissemble and move the old bed. Sisters et al responded, “We can’t now. We’re at work, we’re at appointments, we have commitments,” which dismayed Mom. She needed and expected everyone to immediately come to her aid, and adulting prevented that from happening. Stress, irritation, frustration, anger, and resentment all gyrated upward. Mom felt abandoned, and her daughters felt unreasonably burdened. It’s worse because it’s all part of a recurring cycle of ‘come help me now’ and ‘I can’t, I’m busy’.

Viewed from a distance, out of that, The Neurons initiated “King of Pain” by The Police in my morning mental music stream (Trademark changing). The 1983 song elaborates on the many small, overlooked matters that causes an observer to feel pain for the others and their situation, feeling this in his soul. That pain translates to rain, and then they express hope that another would end the rain, which would end their pain. I’m certain that it’s this circle and unfulfilled hope which attracted Les Neurons to this song today.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also, enjoy, however you can, and try to make something of it. Coffee is doing its thing; time to go do mine. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Persistfee (a sense of persistence fueled by coffee)

It’s a day of indifferent clouds and sunshine, this Monday, June 3, 2024. Rain spits and dries. Temperatures fall and bounce. 76 F, thermometers declare, but a chiller feel hangs in the air. Today’s high temperature is at hand.

Spoke with Mom this morning. She related bureaucratic issues keeping her hospital bed from coming on. I depend on her for the info so I can only accept her explanation. According to the PCP’s nurse, aka John, everything has been forwarded to the company who will deliver the bed. But they claim something is missing and hold that the bed can’t be delivered until this unknown element is delivered. It all has Mom and I swearing and wondering.

She sounds good, spirited and energetic. She’s been cleaning, she said. So what will the hired help clean when she comes this Thursday?  Mom declares, “I’m not going to pay her to come if there’s nothing here to clean.”

My sisters and I predicted this as a real possibility. Mom prides herself in a clean house. It’s a large part of her persona. Once the cleaner began coming, Mom rose up and began cleaning in anticipation of the cleaner’s arrival. She’d already said the cleaner wasn’t allowed to clean the kitchen because that’s Mom’s territory. Nor could the cleaner help with the laundry; Mom is very particular about how her clothes are washed and dried.

I think Mom is taking a narrow view of having a cleaner come in every week or two. Mom has rallied now but is that sustainable? When will she overdo her poor stenosis-plagued back and cause herself a new injection of pain and immobility? What if she falls – again – and hurts herself? Those are what-ifs, and pieces of logic. Mom’s issues with cleaning are emotional and psychological. Just one son’s opinion. I hope that these worries never see light.

Today’s song is “Green Tambourine” by The Lemon Pipers. The 1967 psychedelic pop hit is playing in my morning mental music stream (Trademark freeze-dried), and I don’t know why. Following the usual course, I interrogated The Neurons, but they closed ranks and shut down. Couldn’t even get a word out of them after plying them with coffee. Stupid little boogerheads.

Off to the coffee shop to let the muses play with words. Be strong, stay pos, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cuspsized

Fog and a cool 58 F greeted Churchill Valley on Wednesday, May 29, 2024. Today’s high will be lucky to break 66 F. Thunderstorms are possible.

Thunderstorms hit us again last night. I was out at my sister’s house for dinner. My BIL was grilling some serious beef, shrimp, and chicken. The smell of rain lingered in the air. Chonky gray clouds cruised overhead.

Rain broke, soft at first, warning shots, but the serious stuff arrive about an hour later. Weather warnings lit the phones. An hour later, the storm had significantly decayed, but I encountered chunks of it while driving home.

I’m on the cusp of heading home. Flight is early tomorrow morning.

My feelings are on a trampoline of reactions. I look forward to being with my wife and fur buds. I look forward to taking on some adulting needs and getting to work on stalled projects.

But I’ll miss Mom and my sisters and BILs, and all the children. Sharing a time zone with them has been very satisfying.

I feel like the nation, even the world, is also on a cusp. Donald Trump’s criminal trial has reached the jury deliberations stage. Analysts, pundits, lawyers, and relatives are all given opinions about the outcome, and why. And then, regardless of the verdict, what’ll happen? We’re on the cusp of finding out.

We’re on summer’s cusp in the northern latitudes. Violent storms have been striking the U.S. Destruction is rising. Travel is disrupted. So are supply chains. 23 are dead in the U.S. People’s power has been cut off. Is this an aberration or the new climate change norm? We’re on cusp of learning.

Israel attacked Rafah on Sunday. ‘All eyes are on Rafah.’ What will happen there next? I’m not arguing the right of Israel to defend itself, the role of the U.S. and other nations, nor the reasons why Hamas launched their attack last October, triggering this latest season of death and destruction. I’m like many, wondering if we’re on the cusp of a greater conflagration.

While we’re at it, Russia continues its assault on Ukraine, and Ukraine fights back. The deaths mount. More NATO resources might get involved. Are we on the cusp of world war? Could this be the cusp of a long-feared nuclear war?

And we’re on the cusp in the U.S. of finding out how extreme the GOP will be to keep people from voting. We’re on the cusp of finding how much of democracy they’re willing to destroy to keep the voters silenced and stay in power.

Looks like we’re on the cusp of a long, historic summer.

Being on the cusp of so many possibilities incited The Neurons to fill the morning mental music (Trademark almost ready) with “Enter Sandman” by Metallic. I can see The Neurons’ reasoning: this summer could be a nightmare, and that’s what the 1991 sound is all ’bout.

Hey, ho, here we go. Be strong, stay safe, be well, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. My coffee tank has already been filled.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffee’dup.

It’s Monday morning on Ma 27, 2024.

Like many on the east coast of the U.S., it’s a wet one here in the Churchill Valley. Blue sky has retreated as gray clouds carpet out most of the sun. 66 degrees F at this point, 79 F might be the temperatures’ upside.

I’m staying in one of the suburban areas east of Pittsburgh. Many parts of the city lost power due to storms this past weekend. We’ve been fortunate, knock wood.

Awoke today feeling little rested after a night of scarcely remembered fractious dreams. One dream piece recalled featured police officers. One turned into a human sized cat. The other cop became a frog and hopped away. I awoke wondering what their names were. I usually remember dreams pretty vividly so not remembering them causes me to ask, “Damn, what’s wrong with me that I’m not remembering my dreams?”

Had a satisfying and comfortable Memorial Day visit with my sister’s family. This is again one of the young sisters. I have three of them, all smart, who always throw open their doors and welcome me to their home and their table. None of them will let me pay for anything, which, while I appreciate, also vexes me. I love them and their families.

Satisfying and delicious food was on the table yesterday, of course. Pasta salad. Calico beans without the bacon. Corn souffle. Rice and cheese with broccoli, meatballs, and hamburgers with or without cheese. Hard to resist my stomach’s urgers to “Eat more, eat more,” even though I was quite full. Desserts included cakes, fruit with angel food cat, and key lime and apple pies. Yeah, we’re a fortunate family in regards of having food and shelter security, and a family that gets along reasonably well.

Mom is doing okay. She was down a bit yesterday, with a cranky overlay. I suspect this came around from getting up early to dress and leave for the cookout. It was starting at 1, so the timing forced her out of her returns and comfort zones.

When I wrote a previous phrase, ‘It’s a wet one,’ Der Neurons pushed “Smooth” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooded). “Smooth” is a ’99 collaboration between Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas, and was written by Itaal Shur and Thomas. It’s a smooth rock offering, with strong lyrics, wonderful percussion, and some soaring Santana licks.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is already fueling me and sunshine has overcome some of the clouds. Hey, ho, here we go, slinking toward the May’s finish. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sunfresh

Today is Monday 20, 2024. We’re paddling toward May’s end, on course to the middle of 2024.

I awoke to a broadside of sunshine. High white clouds faint as a fading spring breeze streak the blue sky. 68 F already, we’ll brush up against the mid 80s once again.

Yesterday was flat-out wonderful for me. We feted a new sixteen-year-old’s milestone at the littlest sister’s home. Talking around the kitchen table, playing with sis’s wonderful dog (Chloe), and eating made up the gist of the five hours we were there. It was the standard teenager fare of pizza, hoagies, chips, and cake with ice cream. All participants got along well. No fights were heard and very few disagreements. All of this was done under a light summer feel. It was a day of happiness where worries were scarce.

I’m going to brush aside politics and world news for now. I know it’s out there but I’d rather maintain a posture of innocence and hope for one more day.

I had a terrific writing day yesterday morning as well. Disliking breaking away from that activity, I thought, I could use more time. That prompted me to get up earlier today and out the door to get more time. While I was dressing, eager to have more time, “Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon (2008) was plugged into the morning mental music stream (Trademark faded). I accepted it as the day’s theme song even though I was about using more time and not using somebody.

Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and experience a good day. Coffee has begun its journey through my physical being and I’m feeling solid. Here’s the music. Hey, ho, let’s go. Cheers

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