Tag: family

Mundaz Theme Music

Autumn is toddling in, dragging cooler air over us. Wildfire smoke adds a gauzy layer to tamp down temperatures. 68 F, clouds scuff up the blue sky. Thunderstorms are expected to drop in, and the temperature will top at a cordial 75 F. This is Munda, September 8, 2025. Our air quality is moderate, hovering in the 90s.

Dad is in the hospital in Texas, going through tests and assessments to see what can be done about his condition. Mom is okay at home, it seems, coming across as feisty in her texts. Steve is in hospice with multiple myeloma. Andy is recovering in the hospital from his surgery and getting ready to begin physical therapy. Sis is going into the hospital for a ‘medical procedure’ today. Telling me via text yesterday that she wasn’t well, she remained vague about what her medical procedure was for. I see my doctor tomorrow. Sounds like friends and family medical week.

The latest unexpected shock to the system politically has the Roberts Court again supporting Trump. Yes, it’s a real *gasp* moment. The ruling allows ICE to randomly patrol and pick up people based on whatever the fuck motivates those actions that day. It’s the Trump MAGALand way. MAGAts are applauding it. One said in comments on an article, “As an American I think that ICE and any law enforcement officer enforcing our immigration laws and detaining and having any and all illegal people regardless of race or nationality, is exactly what they should be doing, and we support them 100%.” Except, yawn, ‘Old Patriot Guy’, they’re not enforcing laws; they’re enforcing Executive Orders. Due process isn’t being followed. But that’s okay with OPG and others like him. Ends justify the means. To them, everyone ICE picks up is an illegal and needs to be kicked out. Like how he shifted from ‘I, American’ to ‘we’ by his comment’s end. Was that a slip of the royal we subconsciously thrust in there? Of course, MAGAts consistently demonstrate narrow focus and shallow thinking. OPG might be applauding and waving his flag over Trump’s ICE disappearing people without due process, but you can bet that his comments will change if he and his get struck. He’ll probably then whine, “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” We know that in Trump’s U.S., that only applies to PINO TACO himself.

Meanwhile, Trump has again opted for fiction to support his decisions and policies. Has to be so for PINO Trump, if you think about it; truth, logic, reality, honor, and history all stand firmly against him. Since Trump brought it up, how much will longer we need to endure Trumpocalypse? Nine months into 2025, it’s already too much.

Trump Angrily Tells Reporter His Own Truth Post Is ‘Fake News’

Today’s music is for Rick Davies, Supertramp member and songwriter. He passed at 81 after losing to cancer. The Neurons and I agreed to play 1974’s “Bloody Well Right” in the morning mental music stream in honor and memory of Rick Davies.

Hope peace and grace sniff you out and give you help as needed today. Coffee has made a splash in my body. And it’s off to the races we go. Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, September 7, 2025, arrives, cool, dry, smoky. I’m not sure where the smoke comes from. 65 F, today’s high will pluck 80 F. Rain ended up dominating our road trip to Crater Lake National Park yesterday. The weather added a dramatic element.

Our guests left this morning. They’re on the road to Carmel, CA. We had a good time with them. They seemed to enjoy our company and area. Hope they have safe travels.

Meanwhile, there’s been an ongoing saga. Don’t know what I revealed here. Last Wenzda was our recurring beer meeting. One member, Andy, is a retired doctor. Not sure of his age, but I think he’s a little older than me. Part of his issues required a shunt in his brain to reduce pressure. That helped and he seemed to be recovering. Suddenly, there’s a step backward. He later related that he’d fallen in the street in front of his house earlier that day. A passing driver saw, stopped, helped. But Andy was in pain, putting at 9 of 10. Said, “I think I may have fractured my hip.”

Well, one member volunteered to transport him to the hospital, where, yes, this weekend, Andy had surgery for his fractured hip and is in the hospital. Various friends have been visiting him, and I’ll do that today.

On the family front, the siblings went together to buy Mom a new smart TV for her new bedroom. It seems that her other television has been stuck on ‘the western channel’, according to sis. Mom and her BF, Frank, have bought twin beds for the new bedroom so they can both sleep in there. That way, there’s no calling around at night for him to get there to help her. Mom celebrates her 90 BD next month.

In the Texas side of the family, I returned from being out where none of us had cellphone service to find a message from Dad’s wife. Dad had fallen in the kitchen, fracturing his pelvis and hip socket. He was hospitalized with pneumonia. Now, the text says, “He’s out of hospice.” It seems like it’s a dire situation for them. I called, got VM, left a message. A new text says that a nurse got him out of bed and standing, with help from pain pills. His wife asked me to give him a call after the Steelers game is over, which I’ll do. Dad is due to celebrate his 93rd BD next month.

Politically, I read last night that Speaker Johnson should be writing novels. That’s what I took, as Johnson demonstrated some amazing creativity. Effectually reaching up his ass, Johnson pulled out more cover for Trump with a claim Trump was an FBI informant about Epstein’s activities. This is so wildly out of nowhere that it’s been immediately and relentlessly mocked. Apparently, too, that paragon of justice and concern — that would be the Offal Office mango leech — was so concerned about Epstein’s activities that he voluntarily became an informant. Who out there is going to believe this? Does Speaker Johnson even believe what he’s saying? If he does, what sort of meds is Johnson on?

Johnson’s additions just layer the Epstein files with a byzantine plot. Trump claims the Epstein file is a hoax. Before that, TACO — and we need to label him that, TACO, Trump Always Chickening Out — promised to release the Epstein files during his presidential election campaign, but has since chickened out from doing that. Trump frequently blows his top when others ask questions or make references to the files. Trump has been documented as an Epstein friend for a long time before the shit hit the fan. Now he was really an FBI informant. Man, the crazy gets too cra-cra.

All these matters have brought together an Eagles song. The Neurons heard me mutter to myself, sometimes with a sigh, sometimes with a GRRRR, time will tell. The Neurons immediately jumped up with “The Long Run” by the Eagles. Yeah, I’m singing “Who is going to make it, we’ll find out,” but I’m also singing, “What’s really going on, we’ll find out in the long run.”

There are things to do and write. Coffee is flowing through the body, making connections as needed. Hope peace and grace connects with you today. Here we go. Cheers

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Fridaz Theme Music

Oppressive humidity is doing in the morning. Not overly high humidity in the general sense. We’re just not used to humidity here.

It’s Frida, September 5, 2025. Temperature is 72 F but it feels warmer and less comfortable due to the humidity. We’ll peak in the low 90s today, unlike yesterday, when we clashed with 97 F.

My sister-in-law and her boyfriend arrived. Although they came in from Florida, they weren’t prepared for the heat. They’d been on the coast, then went inland to see the redwoods, and talked about the 30-degree temperature change they experienced in a short time and distance. The boyfriend, a year or two my senior, then asked as we walked around, “Can we go to somewhere with air-conditioning and sit down for a pint?” He’s an amiable individual. An engineer, we discovered that he and I grew up in Pittsburgh suburbs about four miles of each other. We’re both Steeler football fans. Besides three pints, he drank a tumbler of scotch during the space of dinner and the next two hours.

They’re sleeping in this morning after doing a lot of driving and traveling over the past three days. Once they call, we’ll take them somewhere local for food and then do local sightseeing.

I saw the jobs report this morning. Funny that firing the BLS person responsible for the last dismal jobs report didn’t change the dismal numbers. Just 22,000 jobs added. Oh, my. Not looking good for Trump’s economy. These hard numbers are backing up the anecdotes we’re hearing about business chains closing locations, small and medium businesses shuttering their doors, layoffs being announced. Lots of FAFO stories emerging. Of course, that could be the news services which I frequent catering to my interests and attitudes, at least to some degree. I try vesting such info as best as I can but that’s a challenge in this digital era.

Today’s music arrived from a confluence of events. One, Papi and I were out last night. I first was checking the moon, then looking for spaceships. Papi accompanied me. I’m not sure what he was checking out. Then, I dreamed that I was cooking. The meal was coming out looking good and smelled good. It was being done in this strange little apartment. But as I was cooking, several Russians stopped by. They were mostly talking to my wife but also addressing questions to me. This annoyed and distracted me.

The net of this, as I recalled last night and the dream, is that The Neurons rose up with a Jackson Browne song called “Lawyers in Love”. A satirical song about U.S. politics, consumerism, and U.S. pop culture, its lyrics feature both Russians and spaceships. I enjoy the song, but many friends thought it odd when it came out. Of course, that’s precisely why I enjoyed it.

I can’t keep up with what’s been going on
I think my heart must just be slowing down
Among the human beings in their designer jeans
Am I the only one who hears the screams
And the strangled cries of lawyers in love

God sends his spaceships to America, the beautiful
They land at six o’clock and there we are, the dutiful
Eating from TV trays, tuned in to Happy Days
Waiting for World War III while Jesus slaves
To the mating calls of lawyers in love

Last night I watched the news from Washington, the capitol
The Russians escaped while we weren’t watching them, like Russians will
Now we’ve got all this room, we’ve even got the moon
And I hear the U.S.S.R. will be open soon
As vacation land for lawyers in love

I find it humorous and love the musical flourishes which reflect different eras of pop music.

Time to rock and roll another day away. Hope that grace and peace finds and guides you. Have the best Frida possible. Cheers

1

Thirstdaz Theme Music

A warmish night granted us a muggy, warmish day. It’s still summer, Thirstda, September 4, 2025. 90 F now, 95 to 97 F will mark the thermometer before the day’s end.

Pretty freaking funny that Trump’s Never Surrender Inc PAC has surrendered to Trump dying. They’ve made that clear by asking MAGA donors for small donations in an email with the subject line, “I want to try and get to Heaven”. Trump is obviously depending on Riches 1:666, in the Bible. Riches 1:666 says, “In my father’s house, there are many rooms and elevators, but only one elevator goes to heaven. For God so loves money that he rewards those who die with the most cash on hand with an express elevator to heaven.”

Lots of political talk circulated last night. One person reported ordering something from India. DHL sent her an email demanding that she pay $42 in additional tariffs before delivery. She wasn’t sure what to think about the email. “We’re always being scammed these days,” she said. “And here is this email telling me that I need to click on this link and pay this money, wanting my credit card information. I didn’t know if it was real.” After studying and assessing it, she paid, and it was legit. But, yeah, that seem like process with a lot of scammy potential.

Our biggest political conversation related to the mysterious black bag being thrown out a White House window. Have you seen this video? Trump was asked about it and claimed the video was fake. He also said that the WH windows weigh 600 pounds and are sealed. He said that they can’t be raised. However, the WH issued a statement that said that throwing things out a WH window were cleaners doing business as usual. Sure, because they have decades of video showing things being thrown out WH windows.

Some proposed that Melania was tired of Trump and had some of his things put into a black garbage bag and thrown out as part of an argument about breaking up. My wife proposes that it was medical waste related to Trump’s absence act last week, and that they were taking it out via a different way to avoid detection. Well, that certainly didn’t work.

For my part, I’m angriest about Trump’s latest use of military force. Attacking a boat and killing everyone on board is a bad precedent. Trump isn’t the first POTUS to employ heavy-handed military power to make a statement. Gunboat diplomacy has been around a few hundred years. Administrations and the military have developed ‘more surgical’ weapons and methodology. That would be too subtle for TACO. He didn’t provide any evidence for his actions; nor did he ask for permission from Congress, etc. All that’s for those damn elites, and he’s not an elite, as he’ll eagerly remind you. He’s just white, male, wealthy, and powerful. He’s also a liar and a lightweight thinker with a propensity for embracing broken window fallacies.

Remember glam rock? Today’s music is “Turn Up the Radio” by Autograph. I was housecleaning yesterday, listening to classic rock via Alexa as I did. A favorite Boston song, “Foreplay/Long Time”, popped into the rotation. I ordered Alexa to turn up the volume. The Neurons jumped my brain with this song, of course. So here we are.

The family visit is due to commence shortly. Sis-in-law and her beau are in the area. I’ve fortified myself with some coffee. Hope peace and grace find and shelter you today and every day. Here we go again. Cheers

5

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Today is Wenzda, September 3, 2025. Keeping up with the pace set by the previous months, the days are whipping by. Some temp sources say it’s now 80 F or 77 F. My Oregon Scientific station declares that it’s 72 F under a brooding, sunless sky. Today’s upper edge will tap the mid 90s F.

Today is Visit Eve for us. Wife’s sister and her boyfriend arrive tomorrow for a three-day visit. We’ve dusted, vacuumed, swept, mopped, polished, and shined all we can. It’s in Fate’s hands now.

Strong winds woke me at 2 AM. I jumped up for a situation check and closed windows. When I opened a door to see what was going down, Papi bolted in past me, telling me with his feet and tail that he didn’t like the wind as he disappeared down the hall to his safe zone. That strong wind was warm, almost hot, completely void of the usual cool mountain breezes we know at night. It departed the area about an hour later. I found no damages this morning. Papi acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to him.

Yesterday was a day for visiting with family. Sis and I texted for an hour to get caught up on the happenings. Sis had a Labor Day cookout. Mom couldn’t attend because she was in too much pain. A second sister and several nieces and nephews were absent because ‘they have colds’. I hope it’s not more than colds. Mom’s 90th natal day is in October. A big do is planned. My wife and I are discussing going back for it. We’re in favor of doing so but my wife is unsure if she can handle a long aircraft flight. She’s in a lot of pain and discomfort these days, and is generally weak.

Dad called yesterday, too. We spoke for an hour on the phone. My stepbrother and his wife flew in, surprising Dad and his wife. Dad said they had a good visit. Beyond that, Dad just reminisced about his old military career. I just let him talk. It felt like that’s what he needed. He’s doing okay with his health, but must monitor his failing heart and kidneys.

Today’s song is “Messy” by Lola Young. Released in 2024, I like its stream-of-consciousness approach about herself and her relationship. The Neurons have it going in the morning mental music stream because they note that life under the Trump Regime is messy. He and they are the most combative, destructive, chaotic administration in my lifetime, which only goes back to 1956. Trump gives the finger to history and due process. Just last weekend, he was caught trying to illegally deport children. Children, unaccompanied by any adults. He and his henchmen thought they’d use Labor Day to ship these children out to Guatemala. Like WTF? Only evil shitheels in movies act like this. Beyond Trump’s outright evil, we can never tell where his greed and grifting will take us. We only know that it’ll take us further away from any norms in culture, class, democracy, and economics.

Here’s some “Messy” song lyrics.

You know I’m impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station
When it was like minus four degrees? And I
I get what you’re saying
I just really don’t wanna hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?

Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I’m gonna die, lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so, yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I’m not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?

‘Cause I’m too messy
And then I’m just too damn clean
You told me, “Get a job,” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?

And I’m too clever
And then I’m too stupid, dumb
You hate it when I cry unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the whole damn lot

Coffee has leaped in to save me once again. Hope that grace and peace hold you and yours through it all today and forever. Let’s rock this Wenzda. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

September is into its second day, and it’s Twozda. Word on the wireless wind is that we’ll see from 95 to 97 F in Ashlandia today. Depends on where you’re sitting. It’s 77 F now, sunny over a blue late summer sky.

Trump’s grant cuts have slammed into southern Oregon. Funny in a sad manner. Ashlandia is blue but Medford and other places lean hard red. Now, thanks to their MAGA hero, the Rogue Valley Transportation District has slashed bus services. That happened because Trump, working through DOGE, ripped away the grants the service depended on as part of their flawed war on ‘fraud, waste, and abuse’. Ten routes were cut, reducing us from 16 to 6, almost 63%. Saturday bus service is eliminated. Mon-Fri service hours have been cut back. So, there will be less drivers. Less employment. The poor, under-employed, and elderly needed transportation to and from work, social services, and visits to doctors and hospitals are said to be most affected. Just Trump taking care of his voters once again but coldly and callously cutting services they needed, after previous administrations and Congress worked together with local state, city, and county governments to make it happen.

Speaking of Trump, Earlthepearl suggested that today’s song could be “Legs” by ZZ Top. Thepearl cited the floating rumor that doctors might need to remove one of Trump’s legs. I like the idea, but The Neurons had other plans. After TACO’s mewling about ‘getting into heaven’, I have “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” playing in the morning mental music stream. Trouble is, said Neurons can’t decide on which version to play. Weirdly, I now have Guns N’ Roses performing it, along with the song’s composer, Bob Dylan. Every now and again, a little bit of “Legs” by ZZ Top is snuck in. The brain is a chaotic place this morning. Anywho, I believe we’ll go with both versions of “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”. One is honor of a young guy who served with me. Hearing GNR do “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” when it came out in 1987, he came to me and a few other established rockers and exclaimed, “Come on, you got to admit, this is a great song.” We replied, “You do know that this is a cover, don’t you?” Ya should’ve seen his jaw drop.

But then, an audible was called at the line. Playing for Change’s cover replaced GNR.

Coffee has been ordered into my body to establish order. Hope peace and grace take hold of you and lead you through the messes and deliver you safely to the other end. Cheers

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Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

I have routines. Mostly moored in sanity and routine, they help me navigate days and night and months, seasons, and years.

The regular recurring four dominate: dressing, eating, exercising writing. Dressing is actually showering, shaving, brushing my teeth, all that. We just call it dressing in our household. Why get bogged down in details? Same with eating. I’m talking about three meals, snacks, etc. All aimed in a healthy direction, based on medical limitations and bodily needs. Cooking or procuring food is part of ‘eating’.

Writing, ditto, is just something burned into every day’s DNA. I passed on it while vacationing recently, a grueling time for me. I kept writing in my head. That’s an activity that takes me out of the moment. So I made fast notes, lopped off the process, and pressed myself back into local, ‘real-world’ events, like going for a walk at sunset and admiring the waves.

But I also have a habit of deciding what three things I will do besides those things. It’s a mental list I assign myself as I talk to my wife and walk around the house each morning. Weather and other plans are taken into account. Like yesterday’s three things was hanging this new hook we purchased to drape a towel on in the bathroom, then dusting and polishing all the wood cabinets and furniture in the kitchen, dining room, foyer, and living room, and tidying paperwork. Today is a lazier day. Wash and shine the car, gas up my wife’s car, yardwork. A bonus offering is clean off some pint containers and drop them off at a friend’s place.

I’ll also read. Surf the net for news and read some fiction. That, too, is just part of my current DNA. Do both of those every day. Pet the cat, of course. Clean up after him. Also DNA-driven. He enforces it, though. Oh, and take a walk. Do that daily as well. Just who I am.

What are your plans and routines for today?

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

Welcome again to Satyrda, home this month to August 30, 2025. The sky is blue but small white clouds are sneaking in, then slowing to loiter, waiting for other clouds. I think they’re up to something. 61 F now, we’re peeking at a coolish day, with a high of just 91 F. Smoke free, our Air Quality hovers around 28, a solid green and healthy showing.

My sis-in-law and her boyfriend of six months are visiting this week. They met through a senior dating app. My wife is already annoyed with the new BF. He’s rejected all advice and insights offered but then asks for more advice. They’re arriving in SFO and driving up to Eureka for a night. Then they’re driving on to our place via Highway 101 and 199. They’re staying in a spa resort that’s actually outside of the town. Little is around it except a car dealership. We suggested places in town to stay where they can step out the front door and enjoy our small city. No; BF didn’t want that. They also specified no hiking and no walking, no river floats, no boat rides. They want to drive to Crater Lake, drive around it, and then back. Okay. Then, after three nights here, they’re driving to Carmel, south of San Francisco. O-kay. Sounds like a plan. Not a fun one, to me. They’ll be in a car quite often. We shall do what we can to provide them with good memories and a pleasant visit.

Today’s music is “Desire” by U2. Papi the ginger blade prompted it with a request for his special treats. Checking out Trump’s plans and disgusted by his love of money, The Neurons agreed that “Desire” is a good choice and thrust it into the morning mental music stream. After all, the band sings, “For the love of money, money, money, money, money.” For the love of money, power, and adulation, Trump and the GOP will do anything except anything good. Their love of money and power perverts their sense of justice and stacks their sense of entitlement and privilege to higher levels. Nothing is beneath them in their pursuit of money and power. Just when I think they can’t be an crappier as human beings, they lower the bar.

Hope that grace and peace find and hold you today and always. Coffee has found me once again. Here we go, onward. Cheers

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Two Dreams to Mention

In the first dream, I was traveling with friends and my wife. A small group, I don’t know the travel’s purpose nor the means. At one point, we encountered a storm. Seeking refuge, we found a house. The house unlocked. We went inside. It was solid, warm and comfortable, but completely unfurnished. There was one book in there. A soft-cover trade book, it was open to a page.

We decided we’d stay there and outwait the storm. Meanwhile, we each went by and checked out the book. I don’t recall any name, title, or colors associated with it. But when we each read the book, we discovered it was different for each of us. I thought it was a thriller/adventure. Someone else thought it was a cookbook. Another deemed it a book of poetry. I read through the book quickly but when I came back to look at it again, it was a different book. It looked exactly as it had and was still open to a page, but its contents were completely different.

We’d stayed in the house longer than planned. Although no food was there, we didn’t get hungry. In fact, we were all in very good moods. Despite the lack of furniture, we were well rested. But we decided to move on if the weather was good. The weather was good. After going out and looking around, I realized we were in a different location. Another noticed that the season was changed. Trying to figure out what was going on, we went back into the house. Through testing and talking, we concluded that the house was a time machine and also moved through space. (Yes, like Doctor Who‘s TARDIS, except this was a house, not a phone box.)

A young couple, people we didn’t know, arrived. Like us, they were taking refuge from a storm, We decided not to tell them what we’d learned, to see what they discovered on their own. Then we’d compare notes.

Dream end.

In the second dream, my wife and I were sitting at a small metal table by the side of a road. Another woman was with us. We were chatting. The table was right off the road’s shoulder and the road was lousy with traffic. At one point, my wife saw a big box truck coming. As it went by, she said, “Oh, there’s the artichoke man. I want to catch him and tell him something.”

Leaping up, she ran after the truck. I was wondering if she caught him and what she was telling him, when a second artichoke truck, identical to the first, roared up the road. This was on a hill and a tight curve. He was going way too fast. The driver slammed on his brakes. He went into a skid and fishtailed hard into a hillside. My wife’s body went flying through the air. She landed on some rocks on her back, her head dangling backwards, unmoving.

I leaped up. A car went by, down the hill, oblivious to the scene. Shouting at the person at the table, “Call 911, call 911,” I looked up the hill. People were running to help the truck driver and another car involved in the accident. I sprinted toward my wife, thinking, I’ll check for her pulse and look for breathing, but I don’t think I should move her.

Dream end.

4

Mundaz Theme Music

Home is underfoot again. All is as expected and hoped for upon return. Nobody missing, nuttin’ burned down, etc.

Going from the Oregon’s coast 62 F offering to 100 F at home demanded adjustments. From the booming waves crashing like the soft thud of small, distant mortar shelling to here and now’s thundering mutter and sullen air invited mental wow and gosh darn reactions. I’m a little down on my return for a myriad of private reason, mostly induced by churn about life, changes, and aging. I acknowledge my life has been decent and some carry way heavier loads. That’s all logic, though. This is emotional afterbirth. They might come from the same slice of existence but they’re born and live differently.

For the record, today is Munda, August 25, 2025. A friend just announced her husband has been diagnosed with liver, brain, and lung cancer. Triple yikes. Two of the other four with me on vacay battle cancer. My wife battles her autoimmune disease. She aches and fights against being cold. We slept with the heat on at 70 F on the coast. Weirdly, despite my health issues, I seemed to be the healthiest and most energetic of the vacationing sextet.

My sista sent photos of Mom’s new addition. Completion comes soon. Other changes are being contemplated, like shifting the tub out of the first-floor bathroom and putting the washer and dryer in there. It make sense although it doesn’t seem like it overlooks any real long-term needs, problems, and plans. Her beau has lost another five, and now weighs 145 pounds, down by forty pounds. The prognosis for him is dimming.

I see the connections emergin’: like others, I’m losing friends and relatives at a turbulent rate.

Doesn’t help that we returned to news stories that basically paint Trump as convinced that he can do what he wants, because he’s prez. Double standards help stoke my GRRRRRRRR reflex. Like, he’s firing someone (Lisa Cook) because of mortgage fraud allegations? Aren’t there several books about Trump and his financial fairyland tales?

He lies about every effing matter and isn’t subtle. More GRRRRRRing arises from so many GOPers and MAGAteers bending over with glee as the nation they profess to love is destroyed from within.

Example of Trump lies: he claims states and cities led by Democrats are bastions of violent crime and lies that violent crimes don’t exist in ‘red states/cities’ — those led by Republicans — is low or non-existent. Facts, evidence, and history displays the truth.

Today, Der Neurons introduced “Hometown Glory” by Adele. This was a byproduct of both thinking about going home to Ashlandia but also reflecting on things happening ‘back home’ where Mom lives. Where Mom lives always seems like home.

Hope your day was filled with grace and peace. We’re unpacked. The laundry is done. Dinner is eaten. A long day, which was also a short one, is over. That’s the nature of vacation dayz. Cheers

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