While out shopping yesterday, my wife and I took a break and had dinner out. Our waiter introduced himself as Zack and displayed charm, humor, and natural friendliness. We’ve eaten at this place regularly, so we quickly ordered and off Zack went.
Our salads were brought and eaten. Then we waited Zack kept coming by, asking, need more beer, more bread, or anything else? We smiled, turned everything down, and waited for our meal.
When it finally arrived, Zack grinned. “I’m sorry it took so long. I was getting worried.”
I replied, “You were getting worried? I was asking myself, what did that Zack do with our order?”
I looked out the window, and what did I see? Blue skies and sunshine looking down on me. No clouds nor fog! No snow but there is some frost. I did notice yesterday that our southern and northern mountains lack snow but the eastern mountains had snow. Snow there makes sense because the eastern mountains are higher.
It’s 27 at my house now, 29 at SOU’s weather station at the Farm, 30, according to Alexa, and 31 on the net’s weather report on MSN. We’re basically in accordance as elevations, mountain shadows, and the sun’s angle affect the temperature readings. They have forecast a high of 51 F for this late December day.
Yes, this is Sunda, December 28, 2025. Just three more sleeps and 2025 will bow out.
Dad’s end of life situation is worsening. I didn’t get an update yesterday but I understand how emotionally taxing that must be for his wife. She’s lived with him longer than me or my mother and is probably closer to him and knows him better. I will say that Dad and I have a lot of shared personality traits and easily move closer through conversations. As we were both in the Air Force for 20 years, he and I do seem to understand one another. His daughters, my sisters, either don’t speak to him because they’re angry and resentful, or only speak to him when they want something. He has another son, too, through his second marriage, and that son and I get along. He, too, only lived with Dad for about ten years.
Dad was active and gregarious all his life, flirting with women, charming everyone. He kept busy although he grew to enjoy sitting down and watching NBA basketball and college and NFL football. He was in the military 20 years, then worked as a grocery store assistant manager for about ten years before purchasing and running his own grocery store. Married twice, divorced twice, although he lived with another woman for ten years. He eventually moved to Texas and settled there, running a huge truck stop for twenty years, finally stepping down from that in his early eighties. That’s when he met and married his current wife. Back when Dad was in the military, he frequently had a second job, managing a club, bartending, or working in a store. He loved playing poker and he was highly skilled with a pool stick. He’s outlived his own father by almost thirty years.
On the other hand, Dad was never into arts, music, or dancing, admitting, “They’re not my thing.” He enjoyed a good steak and loved Italian and Chinese food but was never a foodie, and didn’t eat candy, sweets, or pastries.
Dad’s wife just texted me that she’s waiting for the nurse to arrive and will then send an update.
For Dad, I’m going with Van Halen and “Jump”. That’s because one of Dad’s usual, casual response was often, “Might as well.” That line is repeated through “Jump”, as in, “Might as well jump.” It’s an upbeat song, and he was pretty upbeat overall.
Hope peace and grace find you before the year’s end. Cheers
I’m reflecting on life lessons again as 2025 closes. These are the important lessons I keep returning to.
All food is not the same.
What you can eat and works for you is unique to you.
Your body will change based on what it’s taking in.
You will also change as you age.
Observing our society, we in the U.S. don’t do well with teaching, learning, or sharing these lessons. People will often say something like, “Well, that’s what my parents always ate, and their parents for that matter, so it’ll be fine for me.” The attitude assumes you’re exactly like them. It also assumes the food you’re consuming is exactly the same food they consumed twenty years ago or more. A good chance exists you’re not exactly like them, even if you are their spitting image.
Odds are high, too, that the food being put before you is different from what they were eating. Genetic modifications of our foods are more common in this century. More chemicals are utilized in the growing and processing systems. The end results are often highly processed food.
I’ve noticed that I can’t tolerate the food and quantity of foods that I could in my youth. But it’s not an even change. My metabolism has slowed. Some foods still work great, and I’m happy to eat them. My body treats certain other foods as hostile invaders. Cheese, for example. Much as I love it, my biome is less happy when it comes in. And coffee. I’ve cut way back on coffee and cheese, to name two victims of my changing body.
I learned another clear lesson early: sodium is my body’s arch enemy. I’m constantly on guard against it. Sodium is linked to high blood pressure.
That translated to hydrating more and using less salt, and being on guard against sodium in processed foods.
But I was mystified. So many others easily and often ate processed foods. Salt was briskly shaken over their meals and yet, they didn’t have high blood pressure.
It was only later that I learned about my Vagus nerve’s reaction to how sodium is handled as part of my parasympathetic nervous system. This is why others can eat sodium without problems while my body tells me to leave salt alone.
I’ve compiled more understanding of the Vagus nerve’s role. Such insights are valuable. But our bodies are dynamic. Paying attention and learning about changes aids me when I wonder about gaining weight or energy levels. It’s empowering and useful in this age to have the Internet to help me grasp the root of these changes.
They really didn’t address our bodies and food in much detail when I was educated. We were taught about food groups, balance, and the food pyramid. It wasn’t explained at all that people’s bodies react differently. That was left to us to learn for ourselves.
My education was over a half a century ago. I hope the system has changed and more people are learning these things. This is why I write about them for me, in the hope that others find it helpful.
High winds imitated taxiing jets all night long. We awoke to quiet sunshine and a drying land. 42 F, we hit like 49 F before the weather flipped into falling temperatures and increasing precipitation. It rained hard for a while and dropped into the thirties. Now it’s in the thirties but clear under fading sunshine. This was Christmas, Thirstda, December 25, 2025.
We were out of the house before nine AM, hitting the road to buzz to the other side of town for a breakfast brunch. The time was dropped on me yesterday. “We’re going to be there at nine?” I was incredulous. Friends had invited us to their place but that seemed like a early holiday hour when gift exchanging and children weren’t involved. We made it, no problem.
They weren’t ready for us. The husband didn’t make an appearance for over thirty minutes. We know him well and understand the health issues which slowed him. Guest number five arrived about twenty minutes after hubby showed. Guest number six was a no-show. She later called to apologize but she was having memory issue and forgot.
No matter. I was stewing about hurrying to be there when others clearly were less prepared than me for the early hour. The food, however, was sensational. Ham steaks. Plant based sausages. Dutch baby. Mexican quiche. Bananas, oranges, raspberries and blueberries. Delicious food, and after all but one arrived, a fun time, despite the early hour.
The early hour did have me smiling in memory about my childhood. Back then, filled with Santa-inspired energy, we were up by five AM, eager to see what presents had arrived. It’s a sweet look back at memories of an innocent period. Well, innocent for me. Mom and Dad were busy adulting, managing children, money, and all the associated pressures and needed.
Our fifth guest was a stranger. A music student from the Czech Republic, Tereza is 23 years old, a keyboardist who is learning music history (which, yes, she finds boring and tedious) while also being taught about more instruments. Most fascinating is her growing mastery of the pipe organ. She travels to another town to play a pipe organ in a Presbyterian Church. She shared some video of her playing.
She also gamely responded to our inquisition about the small village where she grew up, her parents and life in the Czech Republic, and their Christmas holiday traditions. A catholic, she shared their story that baby Jesus brings gifts and puts them under the tree. Yes, I wanted to know, how does baby Jesus get around? She laughed and replied, “That was our question, too.”
Then, following Christmas traditions (not), we played a full game of Mexican Train. Mexican Train felt like some kind of inherent slur, so we sought other names for it as we sorted rules, cheered wins, and lamented losses. A different and fun way to spin away Christmas hours.
Meanwhile, my sisters and I and Mom and I shot texts and videos back and forth. It’s the latest new holiday tradition.
Today’s music is “Come As You Are” by Nirvana. The Neurons fired it up in the morning mental music stream when I rolled out of bed and began fumbling through showering, shaving, and dressing. I don’t mind get up ‘early’ but I dislike being forced to forego my leisurely morning routine. As I progressed through my routine at a faster pace, The Neurons teased, “Just go as you are.” Hence, the song’s presence in the MMMS.
Had a pleasant Christmas with my wife and friends. Barely any coffee consumed. I think peace and grace peeked in on us. Hope peace and grace dropped in on you, too, however briefly it might have been, whether this is a holiday you celebrate or just another day on the calendar. Cheers
I was deep into a writing day at the coffee shop when I happened to look up. Across the room was a young girl—maybe six. In her hand was a huge chocolate croissant. I swear the pastry was as large as her head. She kept attacking it with her tiny mouth, trying again and again to make inroads into the dough.
As I smiled to myself and glanced around, I noticed others doing the same. We all seemed to feel it: the quiet pleasure of witnessing a sweet moment—a sweetie going after a sweet.
Happy solstice morning greetings from Ashlandia. It’s 41 F with moderately heavy rain today. The weather systems tell me that’s how it’ll be all day, with the high reaching for 47 F. A ‘white Christmas’ isn’t being dealt to us this year.
Yes, it’s Sunda, and it also happens to be winter solstice north of the equator, December 21, 2025. Down south of zero, they’re celebrating the summer’s arrival.
We’re doing our ‘traditional solstice’ dinner but it’s being winged. Our traditional celebration evolved from previous celebrations we’d cludged together from pagan practices regarding solstice. Building on those, we started having a simple dinner of soup, salad, and bread as part of solstice. It expanded for a while, with others invited in to celebrate with us. COVID broke the tradition. We observed alone for a bit but shifted from it. Partially contributing to that was a sense of weariness my wife and I both felt; just weren’t up to celebrating, given the world’s state and trajectory.
I proposed doing soup and bread for solstice dinner again. But instead of making it all ourselves, we’d visit the Food Co-op and Market of Choice and buy some fresh soup from them.
I read about “King Mida in Reverse” in blog comments the other day. I haven’t heard nor thought of the song in years. Think I heard it on Sirus XM while driving on a long trip back before BCP – Before COVID Pandemic.
The commenter was saying this song, by the Hollies, perfectly describes the Trump effect. He’s a destructive force masked as something else. Trump will advance, mostly through luck, lying, evading responsibility, and cheating, but whatever he touches is the worse for it. Look how he destroyed so many businesses and yet enriched himself. Now he’s doing it on a gigantic scale, destroying the moral fabric, government structure, and checks and balances of the United States. Meanwhile, he’s turning us, We the People, against each other based on race and politics, cratering the economy, and making us sicker via terrible health care decisions. Yes, PINO Trump is most definitely King Midas in reverse. That’s why he throws gold on everything in a desperate effort to change the optics on what he’s doing. But the results of dropping approval ratings, rising disapproval rating in all areas, increasing unemployment, decreasing employment, and diminishing affordability speaks for itself. Dizzy Donny is failing, flailing, and fading.
Unfortunately for the U.S.A., Trump has turned over governing to Russell Vought for domestic affairs, Stephen Miller for domestic security, and Pete Hegseth and Marcos Rubio for diplomacy and foreign policy. Except for Rubio, these are individuals We the People don’t trust with the keys to a car, let alone running the nation. But that’s where we are, thanks to PINO Trump.
Lyrics
~snip~
I’m not the guy to run with ’cause I’ll throw you off the line I’ll break you and destroy you Given time
He’s King Midas with a curse He’s King Midas in reverse He’s King Midas with a curse He’s King Midas in reverse
It’s plain to see it’s hopeless Going on the way we are So even though I’d lose you You’d be better off by far
He’s not the man to hold your trust Everything he touches turns to dust In his hands Nothing he can do is right He’d even like to sleep at night But he can’t
Time to chug some coffee and crank the energy motor up. Hope peace and grace sneaks out of hiding to give you a hug. Here we go. Happy solstice. Cheers
I was at some sort of crowded little outdoor coffee. The business was wedged into a place not made for business. Small tables crowded together on a patio lined with low cinder-block walls on two sides, flowery weeds growing out of cracks, all on the edge of a tiny parking lot. A street is close by. The actual business, a rustic hole-in-the-wall offering is on the parking lot’s other side along with two or three other tiny businesses.
Pretty day and I’m a young visitor. A ginger and white cat comes to check me out. A woman who comes and goes says, “She’s begging for food. She’s always begging for food.” I try to accommodate the friendly feline. Fortunately, I have cat food! It’s cheese and something. I open the plastic cat food container and let the cat sniff. It’s eager, so I put the container down under the table, under a flowery tablecloth, so the cat can eat it.
The cat quickly returns. “You didn’t eat all that, that fast, did you?” I look below. “No, you barely touched it.” I laughed and scratched the cat’s head. “You just like being fed, don’t you?”
The woman returns with a small dog. Terrier type with curly beige fur. The dog is polite, with bright eyes, sniffing around but making no sounds.
“He’s looking for food,” the woman says. “He likes to eat the cat food.”
The dog finds the cat food and goes to town. Then the woman orders him to follow her and they’re off again.
I feed the cat again, laughing at myself for doing so. I open several of the plastic tins just to humor the cat. It licks and eats from several of them, then comes back in a quest for more.
The woman and dog return. I tell the woman about opening several packages for the cat. I realize that I’ve been sitting there for a few hours and worry about the food going bad. I ask the woman if it’s okay for the dog to eat them. The dog watches me with silent hope during the exchange. When the woman says, “Yes,” the dog jumps down and I give it some old food.
Then, in a dream shift, a friend arrives. She’s another writer. I know that she’s quit writing but she’s here to talk to me about it. So we go walking. She’s young, Black, and shorter than me. I encourage her not to stop writing. She feels like it’s become a waste. I ask her, “But if you don’t write, how will you know what you think? Isn’t that important to you?”
She repeats what I say. We’ve been walking on a trail. Now we come to a bunch of teens. They’re crowding around a bush. Dozens of tiny black insects buzz through the air. “The hornets are back,” one teen says. “Look, they’re building a nest.”
He indicates a space inside a bush. I look. Yes, the little black things are building a thing that looks like a miniature beehive. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wonder if these are really wasps. I don’t really know.
I’ve lost over twenty pounds. With that came a reduction in my waist size. Now my pants are too large for me. Friggin’ swimming in them. Fortunately, I kept some pants which were too small for me. Now I fit in them again.
Large part of my weight reduction in my mind comes from exercising. With my exercising now, I can look back and appreciate how much I was hampered from exercising by health issues for the last few years. I’m running and exercising much more consistently and intensely than I’ve done since COVID struck. Back then was when I broke my arm. Feels good, too. Energy levels are up. Thinking is clearer. Mood is better.
My issues forced dietary changes on me. Embracing them, I eat more mindfully, turning down many things, enduring hunger. Like, right now, in the coffee shop, they’ve heated up quiche for someone. Smells exquisite. Another person is wolfing down a cherry turnover. Looks really good, know what I’m saying?
I thank the dawgs for my turnaround. Good medical interventions, often triggered by emergencies, saved me. As did my wife, who had to endure my emergencies, issues, and recoveries.
Just need to keep it up and keep it off. Yeah, there’s the eternal rub.
Michael Seidel, writer 