Tag: health

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Summer is crawling through on a final look see. We’ll strike the low 80s, lifting us from the sunny and mild 66 F where we now reside. Leaves are still green against the summer blue sky but some of those leaves have lost their luster. It’s Satyrda, children, September 13, 2025.

No home-front changes for me with a friend in hospice, Mom on mute, Dad in rehab, as is another friend, and my wife under the weather.

I listened to Trump’s speech from the NATO summit’s closing day. He claimed he ‘rebuilt the entire military’ during his first term. WTF does that even mean? If you take the literal words and their literal definitions, then the United States has a military which is just a few years old. Leaves me confused. Where did he get all those old B-52s, aircraft carriers, F14s, F15s, and F15s if he rebuilt it? How did he get new C5s and why are old ones still in use if he rebuilt the military? He’s such a bombastic blowhard. Some will give Trump leniency and say, “Oh, he’s being metaphorical.” I call BS. It’s like me claiming, you know I rebuilt the entire house last week. Bottom line: no, he didn’t, and making such claims makes him look like a boastful fool. This is in line with other claims, like he’s going to lower drug prices by thousands of percent. Or that in many places, gas prices are below $1.99 a gallon. He just lies and boasts to make himself look good. While some worship his words as the gospel, a bigly number of people know the truth about him, the truth he reinforces whenever he speaks.

Of course, Trump was eager to blame Kirk’s murder on someone from the left. But guess what? It was another right-winger killing another of their own. No apologies from Trump and others for making wild and biased accusations, of course. Trump lacks the moral fortitude and honesty for anything like that.

BTW, how is that whole thing about Epstein going for Trump?

Papi inspires todays music selection. I opened the backdoor for fresh air and sunshine and he whipped around and sprinted over to me with a quick chirp of greeting. Sitting, he put his face to the sun and closed his eyes. As I offered some love touches, I asked, “Where you been, buddy? What are you out here looking for?” As Papi and I entered the house together, The Neurons summoned U2 with “Where the Streets Have No Name”.

Coffee has begun its rounds in my corporeal vessel. Let’s hope grace and peace find and keep us today and always. Cheers

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Fridaz Theme Music

Blue sky creamed with white haze announces the day is underway. Summer sunshine comes through to carry us to 81 F today as summer tries a final incursion into autumn. Currently 68 F, no rain is forecasted for today. Tis Frida, September 12, 2025.

I’m pingponging though moods and emotions today. Notso good news on Dad’s front as his mind slips the clutch. He refused to eat and cooperate for a while yesterday. Called his wife for her to come get him out of jail. Shades of Mom: we experienced similar to that a few years ago, a testing time. His stepdaughter came through to settle him and coax cooperation. Mom seems to be doing better, from a distance. My wife, however, is under the weather today. Over at Steve’s place, he’s bounced back. While still in hospice, he’s eating well. Andy at the rehab place is doing better, too, eating well but complaining about the food.

News off the political and world fronts do little to lift my spirits. This is sort of normal. I’ve learned that I go into black days. Typically just a one to three day stay. Meanwhile, I choke down news about the economy, shootings, weather, the wars, and Trump’s inanity. Just reading more details about the infamous Hyundai battery plant raid. Stories posted show that Trump’s ICE people knew that people were legally there but still had them deported. This will be so good *snark* for international relations. Sure, who wouldn’t want to come to a place where your legal status is flushed away and you’re subjected to being treated as a lawbreaker and prisoner? Yep, good work to that asinine TACO team.

Did have a little laugh, thanks to Andy Borowitz:

Kash Patel Replaced by Startled Deer

Today’s music choice came on Der Neurons’ orders. Soundgarden, led by the late Chris Cornell, is singing “Fell On Black Days” in the morning mental music stream.

Whomsoever I’ve cured, I’ve sickened now
Well, whomsoever I’ve cradled, I’ve put you down
Search light soul they say but I can’t see it in the night
I’m only faking when I get it right, when I get it right

‘Cause I fell on black days
I fell on black days

h/t to Songlyrics.com

Coffee has swooped in to give me a lift. May grace and peace find and lift us all. Onward. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Sunny has unfolded from the origami clouds. Rain pestered us with brief spitting contests. Overnight had autumn drag more of its influence in. Chillier air presides. Rain is expected. Currently 66 F with sunshine and clouds mixing it up, 72 F is our projected high.

I spoke to Dad this morning. Loopy with drugs, he wasn’t himself. I told him that I’d passed on his situation to Mom. Mom’s response was, “Tell that rat bastard that I hope he gets well soon.” Dad laughed over that. ‘Rat bastard’ is Mom’s affectionate handle for Dad.

Bad news came in about Andy, another hospitalized friend. If you thinkback, Andy was taken to the hospital a week ago after beer with friends. After falling in the street earlier that day, he was complaining of pain. Turned out he’d fractured his hip. So, he went through surgery, was removed to a rehab place, etc. All was going well. Last night, he got out bed and fell again, this time breaking his hip. It was back to surgery and the hospital. We understand that he’s under sedation at this point.

I met with my surgeon yesterday. While he’s a ‘general surgeon’, he’s done thousands of gallbladder surgeries and specializes in them. We went over expectations and my situation and set a date for November 5. It would have been sooner but I postponed it to travel east for Mom’s 90th BD do. I liked the surgeon. He was patient and affable and spent a lot of time talking with me, relating his own gallbladder removal a few years ago. He’s also a big fella. Two or three of me could’ve stood in his pants. I think I came up to his belly button. With all that, he also has an identical twin brother, who’s a surgeon in Montana. His younger brother is a surgeon who just moved into the area to practice. I wondered if he came from a family of surgeons. No, Dad was a dentist and Mom was an elementary school teacher.

I didn’t spend any time with the news this morning, busying myself with other matters. Today’s music is by Ed Sheeran. “Thinking Out Loud” occupied the morning mental music stream as I reflected on aging. I wasn’t thinking just of my aging, but of everyone. It’s a delicate and reflective song, fit for a delicate, reflective morning that shimmers with fading summer.

Coffee has anointed my tongue again. Hope grace and peace flowers for us today and every day. Cheers

5

Twozdaz Theme Music

Howdy, sports fans. It’s Twozda, September 9, 2025. 62 degrees F holds forth in Ashlandia. Marbled clouds headline the moment. Never fear: it’s going to move to 69 degrees F by the day’s end, although we may need to navigate more thunder and rain while we get there. Feels like autumn has got its dandruff up and is out to end summer’s hold on Ashland.

Yesterday early afternoon found us with a huge downpour. People rushed into the coffee shop bursting with news about how intense, sudden, and cold the rain was. Brief was added to its description as the rain ceased after ten relentless minutes.

Then, 2:30 AM. A sound is covering the house. My sleepy mind thought it was a giant fan. Asking, what fan is that, I roamed through the house and realized, that giant fan sound was rain hissing down with Biblical efforts. I returned to bed and sleep only to awaken a while later to my wife in the kitchen getting water.

A sharp, high squeal noise had awakened me. I asked my wife if she’d heard it. “It’s raining,” she said.

I listened. “It stopped.”

“No, it’s still going.”

Papi and I went out back to prove the rain was stopped. It was. Cool breezes swept by with friendly helloes. Moonlight bright enough to walk on broke out. Rain clouds were splitting up and racing away in different directions, leaving a starry dark gray feast for my eyes. “This is nice,” I said. Papi didn’t disagree.

After I was back in bed, a sound like a brassy chord being strong on an electric guitar awakened me. “What the hell was that?” The Neurons asked the dark room. Nobody was giving any answers about noises.

Dad remains hospitalized. Not much can be done about a fractured pelvis. He’s due to be moved to a rehab center today. Andy is also being moved to a rehab center to help him recover from his hip fracture. Sis is mum about her medical procedure and its results.

Gritting my teeth and swallowing my GRRRRR, I peruse the news. Trump is suing the WSJ and anyone attached to the story about his ‘alleged’ birthday card/notes to Epstein. I’m sure Trump is betting that the story will be withdrawn and apologies issues. Meanwhile, he donated the Bible his mother presented to him in his boyhood to a Bible Museum. The net responded with laughter and mocking about the Bible. Most doubt that Trump opened his Bible, read it, and went to church, except for publicity when it suited his needs.

More attacks have been carried out in several wars. None of the war reporting arrives with a sense that the fighting is going to end soon. The major aggressors, Russia and Israel, are well past reasonable lines about their intentions. All can see that Russia will not stop until it has Ukraine. Israel won’t stop until Hamas are all dead. Neither nation displays concern or empathy for the innocents they’re killing.

Economic news will take over today’s media top spots. 911,000 fewer jobs were created between April 2024 and March 2025, BLS says. US job growth through March was significantly weaker than previously thought. Economists and analysts are telling us that it means the jobs markets was even worse than realized. A large downward revision was expected, with many citing sampling errors resulting from declining survey responses, weaker-than-inferred job creation at new firms, and adjustments related to asylum-seekers and other undocumented workers. The pandemic’s impact on the global labor market and residual adjustments were also blamed. Trump’s WH thinks that it proves Trump was right, the Biden economy was a disaster, and the BLS reporting is broken. That’s certainly puzzling, isn’t it: the Trump Regime is depending on a system they claim is broken to prove they’re right. Classic MAGAt non-thinking.

All this has culminated in The Neurons’ song choice for my morning mental music stream. It stormed in Ashland, with more storms coming. Trump is riding a storm of criticism about Jeffrey Epstein. We the People are riding through the storm of data about what’s going on with the economy. Hence, The Neurons summoned The Doors and “Riders on the Storm”.

Coffee has dropped in for an extended visit. May grace and peace visit and stay with us all for a while. Here we go again. Cheers

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I Might Just Be Okay

When I say I’m alright

I might just be okay

But there could be such a heavy load

That it takes too much to say

You can look for clues in my face

These things usually leave a trace

But what’s going on in my inner space

Is really not in play

I need time to process

To evolve an understanding

Of where I’m at and who I am

After this last round of changes

So when I say I’m alright

I might just be okay

Then okay, I could be miserable

I just don’t want to say

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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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Mundaz Theme Music

We’re now into the nineth leaf of 2025’s stay. Yes, today is Munda, September 1, 2025. Some label this, the Labor Day weekend, as summer’s end and fall’s start in the U.S. I don’t agree with that premise; summer’s weather remains. The trees aren’t dolling up in their fall colors, and so on. Summer continues despite the rise of artificially flavored pumpkin spice drinks and treats. It’s still summer here. 52 F last night, it’s now 71 F, on the way to another 92 F day under a blue sky hazy with something white. Could be smoke, might be some thin cloud layer.

So, just three more leaves remain in 2025, a leaf being a month. They will be tremendously important leaves in the United States, a confluence of rivers and trends. Lawsuits have piled up against Trump and his regime. Some of these will be resolved or head to the Roberts Court for judgement. Economists tell us that Trump’s chaotic tariff rollout will strike and it won’t be pretty. Time will tell. Trump is sending more troops into ‘blue’ cities over causes he’s created out of MAGA and QAnon myths and conspiracies. Now he’s arming them. His regime through Cosplay Barbie makes ridiculous declarations about Los Angeles ceasing to stand if Trump hadn’t sent in the guard.

Now, too, we have Trump’s health. He’s been a fleshy-looking, doughy, overweight individual with an odd gait for years. Has speaking style began slithering over words and ideas like a broken toy years ago, as well. As he, the GOP, and MAGALand lambasted President Biden for being old and frail, the portrayed Trump as super healthy and super smart. His physician declared that he thought Trump was the healthiest individual he’s ever seen, opining that it wouldn’t surprise him if Trump lives for 200 years.

Yeah, sure.

All fantasies come to an end. The wicked witch dies. So did Hitler. Stalin. Mussolini.

Today’s music is Der Neuron’s selection. They have Bruce Springsteen accompanied by the E Street Band. The song of choice is “Born in the U.S.A”. The song was released in 1984 to commercial success. For a while, it was a regular staple of rock and classic rock stations. I’ve not heard it on a radio in many leaves. I think it’s in the morning mental music stream because it focuses on spiritual bankruptcy and disillusionment. That seems like a theme sweeping the U.S.A. Disillusionment with the system, politics, name it, and you’ll probably encounter someone expressing some disillusionment.

The countdown continues to my sis-in-law’s visit. Sort of craters my heart, watching my wife. Working with low energy, dealing with pain and inflammation, she’s methodically cleaned and cleaned. I’ve helped but she’s done the lion’s share. It’s frustrating. She’s trying to live up to some standard conditioned in her to have an immaculate but charming home. But she’s paying for it with her own health and comfort. I see my mother do much the same. It’s all about appearances and impressions. Yet, my wife is coupled to me, who is sort of loosey-goosey about appearances and impressions. Yes, I’m jaded against putting up appearances to impress and amaze others. I make an effort on my wife’s behalf, however. I do it without saying anything about it, holding back my sighs, trying to support her in whatever she does. Of course, I have my own demons who ride me, and she supports me.

Oh, as an aside, the community came through with a shower chair for our hospice friend yesterday.

Alright, coffee has dug into my body once again, boosting me to new but temporary levels. May peace and grace find and shelter you as much as it can in this unfair world. Cheers

2

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?

2

Sundaz Theme Music

It’s Sunda, so is a week ending or a week beginning? I’ve always considered Sunda as the week’s start. That’s what Mom taught me, and her mom taught her.

I’m sure it’s the end of August. It’s August 31, 2025. The year is half over. Summer in the northern hemes is leaning towards the finish line. Today is cooler again, with a night which Papi described as chilly but brisk at 58 F. Of course, he has fur. I think that makes a difference. On the high end, we’ll see 91 F today. Sunshine is holding forth in a blue sky where clouds have been dismissed for the moment.

An email has us trying to help another. A friend’s husband is beginning hospice at home. She’s looking for a shower chair and bedside commode. As it’s a holiday weekend, she has found many places are closed until Tuesday. Her need is more immediate. The bedside commode has been located; a friend’s mother died a few months ago, 104 years old, and he still has the commode. A shower chair is more elusive.

“Money Talks” by AC/DC is today’s music. Watching Trump’s open Offal Office grifting, coupled with a news article, about triggered this choice. The news article was out of the NYTimes. Its headline reads, In Budget Logs It Tried to Hide, White House Wrests More Control Over Spending. The article added, “Deep within obscure footnotes, the Trump administration is claiming more of Congress’s constitutional power of the purse by threatening to block funding.”

The article goes on:

“In more than 100 cases this year, Office of Management and Budget officials who sign off on funds for federal agencies have attached unusual conditions to the money, including requirements that funds meant to reflect Congress’s priorities be spent only if they align with the president’s views. The moves lay the groundwork for the Trump administration to choke off billions of dollars budgeted by Congress for education, health, housing and research programs.“

“In some cases, the administration has clearly blocked funding for specific programs. In others, the threat lurks in footnotes tucked in detailed budget logs that congressional appropriators are racing to decipher as their conflict with the budget office grows.”

We always knew it was all about the money for Trump and his regime. They use their anti-woke, anti-diversity, anti-equality, anti-integration agenda as a club to beat agencies and organizations into capitulation. These agencies and organizations were legally granted funding from Congress in accordance with established precedence and procedure. Legality matters less to Trump and his minions than diversity, equality, and integration. Legality matters less than truth, facts, justice, and logic to them. It’s Trump’s way, or no way. And they get their way by withholding money. Doesn’t matter what was planned with that money, how it affects anything else. It’s just Trump’s way or no way, the total antithesis of the idea of We the People being in charge.

Anyway, that’s how “Money Talks” by AC/DC ended up in my morning mental music stream today.

I hope peace and grace finds and keeps you and yours safe and healthy. Let’s throw in some happiness, too. Coffee is wending through my body, perking me up once again. Onward and upward. Or something. Cheers

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