Tag: habits

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sumflective

Good morning, internetters. Welcome to June’s Second Saturday, June 8, 2024. If you’re like us, we celebrate Second Saturday in June. Holiday or not, we start with feeding the cats because the little dears will pester us into surrender. Yes, they have ‘just in case’ kibble in bowls and nevermind that they didn’t eat all of the previous tinned food in bowls. The tinned food bowls are cleaned and fresh stuff is spooned in for their dining pleasure.

Once we’ve taken care of the floofs, the real festivities begin. We start with coffee. While that’s soaking my system, I make my breakfast because my wife doesn’t eat breakfast for several more hours. Next, I dress. Sometimes a load of washing clothes is started for Second Saturday. The floor was vacuumed for First Friday, so no need for that today. We just go around picking up leaves and sticks floofs carried in for us, along with food they somehow transported around the house from their eating areas, along with fur and hair they’ve dropped along the way. Next, our family traditionally gets on the computer to get a Second Saturday news update, you know, see who died, who has gone to war, who has been convicted, and what new natural disasters have struck. Then we’re free to celebrate Second Saturday by washing the car and running errands. It’s a joyous day.

This Second Saturday is also the Green Bag pickup, so our bag full of supplies for the local food bank is on the porch, awaiting pickup by volunteers who transport it to the sorting and distribution center.

Our sprummery weather continues. It’s 67 F now, up from our 56 F starting point but eighteen degrees below our expected high in Ashlandia, where the creeks and rivers are flowing and full — for the moment. Sunlight is missing kissing some clouds rear end, but a friendly cool breeze is circulating, placating the likes of me. I enjoy a cool sunny morning so long as it’s not too cool. This day is just right.

I have two net friends who had floofs pass away yesterday. Thinking about their losses after expressing something toward to them, a song from 1993 filled the morning mental music stream (Trademark upended). Sarah McLachlan wrote “Possession” in response love letters from her fans. I think The Neurons pulled it out of memory more for the song’s reflective sound about yearning, love, and hope.

Stay positive, remain strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Summer is coming. Well, in the northern hemes. South of zero, winter is coming.

Here’s the music. Coffee is being sucked up. Enjoy your Second Saturday. Cheers

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Boys and girls in clean baseball uniforms come into the coffee shop and wait for drinks. Last names and numbers adorn the jerseys. The young players all wear their caps with its team insignia. Crocs, or Croc wannabes adorn their feet so they’re not wearing their cleats into the shop.

The parent situation varies. Sometimes a solitary adult accompanies the young athletes; less frequently, it’s a couple. I wonder about the family situation and whether about the significance of the adult situation.

None seem particularly happy. Phones are often studied, arms crossed, as they wait. But one father and the children talk, joke, and laugh.

All so different from my years of young ball playing. This is part of the new Americana, Starbucks, phones, and Crocs. I wonder how many times these scenes play out across the land on this Monday American holiday.

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

The rain stopped an hour ago. People leaving the coffee shop say to one another, “The sun’s coming out.”

Every time I hear it, I turn and look.

Yes, the sun is coming out.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Percoffeecatiated

Happy Mother’s Day in the U.S. Hope all you mothers enjoy of celebration and joy.

Today is Sunday May 12, 2024. Clouds without breaks occlude the sun in the Churchill Valley where the cities I’m visiting are located. It’s 50 F now. Weather elements will lift our temp to 65 F. That sullen winter taste in the air has melted away. We’ve returned to a cold, wet, spring essence.

My Mother’s Day mental perambulations are searches for how to help Mom. She’s tired, often in pain, fighting to moving and thinking, but everything tires her to deep levels. She wants and needs help. Finding it is now my mission.

There are agencies to help. They’re mired in bureaucracy. Nothing has an easy approach or quick timelines. Phone calls, emails, and chats will be the upcoming week’s norms.

Her own habits, experiences, and expectations are a significant obstacle. She expects to bounce back but the bounce is gone. She wants or needs, which I guess should be married as a word, waeds, to do the cleaning she has always done, to be hygienic and neat. These things take hours and hours. Her zip has diminished to a lumpy trundle.

Her decline has been going on a while, since ‘The Fall’. That seemed to trigger everything; she’s been fighting against its ripples for over a decade. Classic story, definitely in America, probably in many other countries as well. She confided to me last night that she fell hard five times in the first three days after returning home. That is no good.

The morning mental music stream (Trademark flailing) has a song called “Paralyzer” orbiting it. The Finger Eleven beats started my mental journey while I was still abed. My brain was gyrating around the things wanted and the things needed, and the destinations and journeys of all the players when the 2007 tune kicked in. It’s not an even matchup between the song and the morning, except I was dealing with a sense of paralysis and a resistance to moving. Then I told myself I’d treat me to a cuppa coffee if I left the bed, dressed, and started doing things. I’m a sucker for a promise of coffee.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward against the winds of resistance, and Vote Blue in 2024. The promise of coffee has been fulfilled. Here’s the music video.

Here we go. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Always amazes me how I arrive home and suddenly need to urgently pee. It’s not like I was driving home and had the urge and ignored it. No, it strikes after I get into the house.

It’s not just me, either. My wife usually reacts before I do, walking into the house, greeting the cats, and then announcing, “Oh, gotta pee.”

I always wonder if it’s another case of event boundaries. Like, oh, you’re home, so you pee. Or is it conditioning built up over the years: you come home, you pee.

Don’t know. Maybe there’s something in the house air that triggers it.

Or are we the only ones like this?

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Whenever I come home, I check to ensure the cats are still alive. I do the same with my wife if she’s napping or in bed. Is this normal behavior.

Signed, Am I Being Macabre?

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Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

My good ol’ Fitbit, which isn’t that old, actually — I’ll need to look that up — stopped working again.

First sign: at 9:15 this morning, it declared that I’d walked over 18,000 steps.

Had I been sleepwalking, I wondered? Chasing the cats, or saving them from a bear, cougar, or other beasts? Not that I recalled, and I believeI would have remembered that. So, must be something else.

Okay. I added resetting the Fitbit to my list of things to do but it was still nominally functioning, until, ‘lo, in the coffee shop, I tapped it for the time and got nada.

Well, I muttered in my mind. That sucks.

But what was really irritating was that, just a little later, as I wrapped up my reading day, I tapped my Fitbit to check the time.

Idiot! Habits are really difficult to stop.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

One of the strangest aspects of life in the United States that I’ve been reading about recently is that a growing segment of men aren’t wiping their asses after doing their business. Or they’re claiming that they’re not. Yes, it’s a strange thing to write about — a strange thing to think about — but it’s out there.

Let’s ponder what’s going on for a minute. Men consciously and deliberately decide, “I’m not going to wipe my rear. Or, “I’m going to tell others I don’t.”

Strange, strange, strange image to cultivate.

But their reasoning is that wiping your ass will make you gay. This is something that they say they claim. Bizarre. Seriously, WTF is wrong with them? Have they lost their minds?

Don’t believe me, then do a search. Go on Reddit. Read the complaints. The insanity is out there, and it’s documented.

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Today’s Wandering Thoughts

She looked at the pen clipped to his shirt. He always wore one there, below his first and second button, a good-luck talisman.

“I notice that you almost always have a pen there,” she said. “Why do you do that?”

He grinned. “Well, it’s not a pen.”

“It’s not? It looks like one.”

“It’s a sophisticated recording device. Links to my phone. I’m always recording everything happening to me, around me, you know, just in case.” He shrugged, noting her incredulous expression. “Just part of the times, you know?”

He picked up his beer and sipped it, debating, should he tell her he was joking?

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

He wondered which of them had fallen out of love first. He believed that he did. He felt like she was always verbally abusing him and emotionally bullying him. He had a list of trespasses against her. She probably had one for him. The best thing to do is not keep a list, but there it was. They were so much alike, and they both always made lists.

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