Tag: family

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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Fridaz Theme Music

The temperature is sulking between 28 (my house) and 37 F (the net). The net amends its claim, “Feels like 27 degrees”. Well, alright then.

It’s Frida, January 9, 2026. The grass is a ghostly shade of green under an unstoppable blue sky. Sunshine feeds light into the valley. All of it looks promising, optimistic. Today’s high will drag the mercury to 46 F.

I’m processing news and information, reflecting on 2026’s launch and its relative successes and failures. Mom and sis have been quiet. Sis has only commented on another sister’s behavior. The other sister is urging everyone to sell Mom’s house quickly but is not doing anything to make that happen.

Sis and Mom are quiet. I hope it’s because stress has dropped for the two, letting them breathe and communicate. I have my fingers crossed that we’ll see a peaceful January. If they can go an entire month without blowing up my phone with texts accusing the other of hate and malfeasance, it’ll be a new record.

Likewise, watching growing reactions in the political world, I slowly became hopeful that improvements are rising. My hopes are not unlimited.

After an ICE agent shot and killed an American citizen in Minneapolis, there was a shooting involving border patrol agents and civilians in Portland. Fortunately, only two civilians were shot and they received prompt medical treatment. I don’t know how the two victims are faring; I hope both are recovering.

Mixed concerns rose after listening to Portland’s Mayor and Oregon Governor Tina Kotes speaking after the shooting. They called out Trump, Homeland Security, and ICE to de-escalate the situation. They then talked about re-building an atmosphere of trust.

Sadly, I don’t think Trump cares about a trust between citizens or political parties. Trump has ramped up his belligerence in 2026’s early days by insinuating that more military action against other nations and territories is possible. Even as National Guard units are being removed from Portland (OR) due to a judge’s order, Trump threatens to send them back in.

My worries about his increasing threats are grounded in the claim he’s recently made that only he can stop himself. Trump’s history is not one of self-restraint and his second term is replete with threats. He’s attacked judges who ruled against him, politicians who speak against him, and reporters who don’t portray him as the greatest.

Between Mom, sis, Trump, and the weather, I’m ready for January to be emotionally up and down. As it sometimes is with me, that mood summons songs from the grunge side.

This morning, the delivery came as I watched a small bird fly down to the yard. After three quick hops, he flitted to the wire. His little head popped left and right. To my mind, he was doing a recon, and his conclusion was, no, this is not the place, because he jumped up and flew off.

I smiled throughout this and thought about having wings and flying. The Neurons jumped into the thought party at that point to play me some “Down in A Hole” by Alice in Chains in the morning mental music stream.

The Neurons didn’t start at the beginning. They selected the lines, “I’d like to fly, but my wings have been so denied.” Laughter to that seemed like an appropriate response.

Coffee has been added to my morning tilt. Energy is rising. I hope you all reach and stay in a good place for this day and the many to follow. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, January 5, 2026. Fog imposes a grey, wet-looking wall beyond the houses and trees across the street. 37 F is shown on the thermometer and forecasts call for rain and snow, with a ceiling of 38 F forecast. Looks like winter is finally taking an interest in Ashlandia.

I will note that a friend in Alaska was raving about her weather, displaying a thermometer that said it was -2 degrees F. That was the high. She insisted that she prefers it when it stays cold and frozen. According to her, the cycle of warming, melting, and re-freezing is much worse than a steady, consistent freeze. I’ll take her word on that.

My wife and I have been concerned about weather. Videos of king waves slashing the coast and heavy rains and flooding up north and down south worry us. People have been enduring so much foul weather. We’ve been spared but watching the situation, it feels like the storms were slowly pinching in around us. My conspiratorial mind, where I go to harvest ideas, whispers, maybe somebody is controlling the weather.

As we slink into 2026’s first Munda, we’re coping with news that another friend suddenly passed from cancer. More details aren’t yet known. Like Steve, who passed last year, this was another individual we saw at the lake with friends last summer. He seemed fine at the time and didn’t mention any health issues. Just another shock to the system in a cascade of shocks.

As I perused news and texted Mom and Dad’s widow about matters, I told myself to try to be more upbeat and optimistic this week. Weather and the general news tone levels a heavy burden, though.

Considering the weather, I find myself reflecting about Dad more. Born in the 1930s, Dad lived and worked in multiple states and every region. Dad was born in Pennsylvania. Mom was from Iowa, and he met her in either Minnesota or Nebraska.

After my parents married, they lived in Virginia, Texas, and California. He and I lived in West Virginia and Ohio. He was also stationed in the south and in New York and Indiana. Then he moved to Texas and met his third wife, and stayed in Texas.

A poker and pool fan, Dad enjoyed renting an RV and driving from San Antonio in Texas to Laughlin, Reno, and Las Vegas, Nevada. He also rented an RV to visit his other son in Utah. Then the RV was turned east and Dad visited his brother in Kentucky. The next leg was a drive to Georgia so Dad could visit his daughter and grand- and great-grandchildren.

Dad’s wife didn’t go with him. She’d fly to each place and return home! Oh, it’s all so funny to me, and remembering lifts my spirits.

While trying to adjust my mood today, The Neuron suggested a song called “Old Time Rock and Roll”. Bob Seger recorded and released it in 1978. Nothing particularly called me specifically from the lyrics. I appreciate the song’s beat and energy. It’s a good rhythm in the morning music mental stream to kickstart my energy. I’ll also drink some coffee, which will also help.

Hope your day is brighter and warmer than mine. May peace and grace lift your spirits and give us all a shot of optimism. Cheers

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It’s A Church Thing

Papi the ginger wonder was beating on the front door. Technically, it wasn’t the front door but the narrow vertical window alongside the door. Seeing me approaching, he opened up and let out an indignant meow.

“Okay, okay,” I said, letting him in. Papi dashed past towards his refueling station like an Indy 500 pit stop. As I shut the door, I saw a flyer hanging from the knob.

I walked into the office reading the flyer. “This was on the front door. It’s about a church grand opening.”

My wife answered, “I don’t think we’re interested in that. We’re not church people.”

“I know but I want to know what church it is. Huh, it’s on Siskiyou. It’s a Baptist Church.”

A chortle spilled from my wife. “Oh, hell no. I’m a recovering southern Baptist. No way I’m setting foot in that place.”

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Sundaz Theme Music

Our Ashland weather lands today as drying but wet, leaning toward being warm. This is Sunda, January 4, 2026. We usually expect some threat of snow during this season and month.

The outside does look wintry bleak. White clouds and bare branches bracket splashes of blue sky. Sunshine spills in with weak authority. But temperatures of upper forties to low fifties today, with a high in the fifties being mentioned, is less winter and more spring. Local talk about snow steers conversations toward the lack. Snow in the mountains give us the summer meltwater to keep our land hydrated.

We remind ourselves, look at history. This is Ashland, southern Oregon. Weather spins like a roulette wheel. Wherever it stops is a surprise and doesn’t surprise. Snow can still be on its way.

A new year vibe still reverberates in me, but I look on at what hasn’t changed. While weather is unpredictable, politics remain too predictable. So do family tensions. Mom and sis still butt heads, forcing small matters into huge blow ups.

After all of that, The Neurons playfully flipped “New Year’s Day” into the morning mental music stream. The U2 song from 1983 is written as a love song but a few lines stood out for The Neurons:

And so we’re told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage
Though I want to be with you, be with you night and day
Nothing changes New Year’s Day

Although nothing changes New Year’s Day, I remind myself, it’s not a nimble world. Emotions, relationships, and politics are forces which require time to shift. A calendar change alone doesn’t provide enough reason for change for many.

I am an optimistic person, though. I look for positive change and I’m ready to embrace it. Let’s hope peace and grace show up and pushes positive change through. Cheers

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A Road Trip Dream

I was setting out on a trip with three friends. Only one — Ron, an older man — translates to a current real-life person. Ron was just as he is in real life. The others, also males, were known.

One interesting note that emerged and wove throughout were two others, both female. They sometimes joined the journey, and Ron and I discussed whether they would be with us. The two women, both brunettes, one in a red top with black pants and the other wearing a bright blue top, would only appear and not speak directly to me.

We were riding in Ron’s truck. This was beige and big, with a four-door cab and a luxurious tan leather interior. Though Ron was driving, he was in the backseat. I was alongside him. He’d put the car on autopilot, so it was essentially driving itself with him just monitoring what was going on.

I kicked back beside him on the back seat. Stretching my legs out, my foot ended up hitting the steering wheel. That put us off course. Because of the way I was reclined, it took several seconds of jostling to get my foot out of the way. During that time, we went off the road and onto the shoulder but didn’t slow. Ron finally steered us back on course and returned the truck to autopilot, but now he was worried and concerned the police would pull us over.

We arrived at our destination — a huge furniture store. I’d never been to it. The floor was hard dirt. All furniture was antique white. Despite the floor and the limited offering, the store was very busy. The women showed up briefly. The others spoke with them while I went out to another section of store.

The next store section was filled with tables and chrome appliances. The appliances turned out to be food and drink dispensers. Needing to use a restaurant, I did some bowel business but discovered the toilet didn’t have any way to flush. Removing my fecal material with a wad of paper towels, I looked for a way to dispose of it. I found one but they wanted me to pay money to flush it away. I refused, angry and disgusted that they’d monetized flushing away our body functions. I instead found a small white bag, put the materials in there, and set it on a table, telling myself, it would be someone else’s problem.

I then reconnected with my friends. I told Ron that when we went back, I wanted to sit in the front and stretch out and sleep. He looked at me with confusion but didn’t reply. The two women came by. One said she had to go off and find her children.

My friends and I went to another section. People there were seated, waiting to pay for their selections. I stopped before one man and did a giddy tap dance. The man, overweight and big with swarthy skin and a white cowboy hat, ordered, “Stop that.” Laughing, I kept dancing but moved to another section. Another man who I didn’t see said, “Stop that,” but I laughed and danced away.

My friends met up with me again. All were surprised that I was tap dancing and thought it strange. They wondered how I learned it. I replied, “I’ve always known how to tap dance. Nobody ever needed to teach me. I just knew. I just don’t do it much.”

Dream end.

1

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Winds are howling again, furiously shaking trees and bushes. It’s 46 degrees F with expectations that the temperature will branch into the low fifties. Rain struck hard last night at midnight. Bright blue skies now support the prowling sun and its sunlight cape. Stacked clouds lurk on the mountainous horizons. This is Satyrda, January 3, 2026.

As part of my daily morning routines, I answer several questions at Evidation. This includes how well I slept, my mood, and my stress levels. Although I slept well and my mood wants to be better, I feel stressed today.

I must turn first to news now, and politics. After the breaking news that the U.S. attacked Venezuela, that’s on the forefront of my worries. I’m disappointed but not surprised that Trump has chosen to start 2026 by escalating military activities. I’m angry but not surprised that Republican Congressional members are supporting this attack on another nation. We attacked them and kidnapped their president to bring him here, to the United States, to ‘stand trial’. Severe doubts that this will be a fair and just trial haunt me. In my mind, Trump is repeating mistakes of our past by pursuing violent regime change and destabilizing governments.

I’m not surprised. Not learning is a strong part of Trump and the GOP’s current operating position. They don’t want to learn about climate science and address change, pretend that tariffs are not a tax and that they’re not paid by U.S. consumers and won’t increase prices, and pretend that the medical science about vaccinations is not valid. They act like we as a nation haven’t been around for almost 250 years, dismissing alliances and lessons learned.

It is not accidental. The Heritage Foundation and other conservative have longed to drag us back into the 1800s. With a willing and eager Trump as their front man, they’re actively pursuing an agenda to do so.

In breaking news, Trump has announced “We are going to run the country until such time as we can do a safe, proper, and judicious transition.”

What a mess he’s created.

On the personal side, the women in my wife seemed to have gone to war. Mom and sis broke their fragile peace. Sis raged about Mom in texts to me, and Mom did the same. Mom insists that I not defend my sister, that Mom is grievously hurt, and Mom hates living in my sister’s home. At this point, I’ve stopped responding to texts, wearying of the ongoing arguments and drama.

Personally, I see it as a continuum: Mom’s aging and ongoing health challenges; stress, especially holiday-induced stress; their shared past and personality traits; and walking on frayed nerves. Each of the last three blowups have coincided with visitors and holiday moments. Mom can’t partake as she used to, and sis is acting as hostess, with her family visiting. Mom’s issues then distract sis and detract from the day’s spirit.

My wife is also raging and warring against several other people, frustrated by how things are going for her regarding different activities. That causes her to stress and vent, eat poorly, sleep poorly, and sours her mood. At least one event will be over in February but the fallout will probably take a few more months after that.

If 2026 is going to be a year of peace, it’s off to a wobbly start.

With this news, and those three women in mind, The Neurons’ song choice gave me a laugh. The cheeky monkeys chose “Take It Easy” by the Eagles for their morning mental music stream occupant.

Well, of course they did! The song’s beginning alludes to having “seven women on my mind”. A later line proclaims, “Well, I’m a-runnin’ down the road tryin to loosen my load, got a world of trouble on my mind.”

Imagery of those two lines perfectly describe the Venn diagram where my thoughts reside this morning, although not with seven women.

I fervently hope that peace and grace start making some rounds. I’d like to see peace and grace land hard on Donald Trump and the Heritage Foundation. Fingers crossed, peace and grace will also visit Mom, sis, and my wife. Likewise, may peace and grace visit you and your sore areas. Cheers

3

Fridaz Theme Music

Welcome, welcome, welcome. It’s First Frida, January 2, 2026, a day traditionally celebrated with food, drinks, and jokes. Here is my joke. Fittingly for this era, it’s AI provided.

I once tried to do nothing.
It took all day.

Currently 49 to 54 F in Ashland with an expected high of 54 to 57. Strong winds are singing their warnings. Grey clouds and sunshine square dance.

I sent my stepmother a condolence card today. I was just expressing my appreciation for what she and her family did for Dad, providing him the love and comfort of a family. Mom, Dad’s first wife, and his biological children from that union, could never work that out. Too many variables to reduce it to understanding. Dad was part of that. As he once told Mom, he didn’t mature until he was 35.

My mood is all over the place today. As I shift away from Dad’s death and the reflections they provoked, I’m moving into the new year and trying to re-engage politics. I don’t want to be a downer. I want to be honest. My mood is up, as is my spirit, but then I read about the latest news, and the sighs creep out of me.

While a new year has begun, Trump hasn’t changed for the better. He’s projecting again, calling Democrats ‘the worst’. I suspect criticism of him squeezed past his handlers. He knows he’s not being held in high regard, and actions he lauds as being great are being disparaged. So it goes in 2026 as it was in 2025, 2024, 2023… That leopard doesn’t change his spots.

After reading political news, my cheeky Neurons introduced “Radio Ga Ga” into the morning mental music stream. That made me laugh. The 1984 Queen song is a nostalgia look back at the radio era as television and music videos rose in popularity. The Neurons jumped on the a chorus after reading about Trump.

[Chorus]
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio blah, blah

Radio goo goo, radio ga ga, radio blah blah. That’s too often Trump.

The song itself, though, uplifts me. This particular version, with Freddy Mercury out in front, feels powerful.

With 2026 underway, I hope to see meaningful and positive changes for you and me. May grace and peace come together with us. Cheers

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