Tag: health

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another rock and roll October fall day has pitched itself over Ashlandia. 39 F now, we’re expected to get over the 60 F hump and cruise to 67 F before falling back down to 40. The pattern is obvious by now, Wenzdaz, October 15, 2025. The nights are taking control, lengthening, growing colder. We know that means, winter is comin’.

No change in news from Dad’s locations. On Mom’s side, sis took Mom to see Frank. Wasn’t a good visit, as he was out of it. Mom told sis, she doesn’t think she can see him like that again. Frank is on 10 L/minute of O2 now but was on 15 as of yesterday morning. He can’t be moved from ICU until he is on 5.

After the visit, sis took Mom to get a flu shot and COVID booster, then went back that evening and made her dinner and visited with her. Another sister had a visit to Mom planned for Monday. No updates from that.

The Epstein Shutdown of 2025 continues. It’ been two weeks.

As part of the shutdown, the Trump regime employed reverse-day logic to RIF gov. employees. CNN published a story that finely chopped up the Trump-Vance-Johnson GOP tale that, “Gosh, the Democrats made us let go of people because the government is shut down.”

Vice President JD Vance said Sunday that layoffs during the government shutdown are needed to continue critical federal assistance programs, including the WIC nutrition assistance program, and to pay the military.

“We have to lay off some federal workers in the midst of this shutdown to preserve the essential benefits for the American people that the government does provide,” he said on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” blaming Democrats for the reductions.

However, budget experts pointed to several reasons why Vance’s statement wasn’t true. Among them, many federal workers aren’t being paid during the shutdown, so laying them off wouldn’t free up any funds — plus, if they were being paid, the money wouldn’t be available for 60 days, when most must actually leave their jobs, said Bobby Kogan, senior director of federal budget policy at the left-leaning Center for American Progress and a former OMB official during the Biden administration. Also, the Trump administration last week said it will extend WIC’s funding using tariff revenue.

What’s more, any funds saved by laying off several thousand federal employees would be only a tiny fraction of what’s needed to fund WIC and the military, said Michael Linden, a former senior OMB official during the Biden administration who is now a senior policy fellow at the left-leaning Washington Center for Equitable Growth.

Yes, that’s right, it’s another Trump Regime lie exposed. Should be news — well, it was, I guess, because it was covered by CNN — but the Trump Regime lies every day, almost every hour. Those of a MAGA heart pay no heed until Trump’s actions hit them hard enough on the head to shake their beliefs. The Trump WH is a swampland of lies and corruption. It’ll take some serious work to drain that swamp and rebuild it into a functioning democractic government and kick down the disastrous framework that is Project 2025. Meanwhile, farmers are going belly up from the lack of infrastructure to support them. Prices are rising. Employment is falling. Shortages are appearing, and foreclosures are climbing. The Trump Destruction Machine is tearing the nation down.

Riddle: how many Trump Regime officials does it take to tell the truth? No one can guess because it’s never happened.

Today’s song is “Skateaway” by Dire Straits. In my head, this is called “Rollergirl”. Yes, this was obliquely related to a dream sequence of moi. Had sufficient substance found in it that The Neurons made the call to feature it in the morning mental music stream.

Here’s a lyrics sampling that prompts my head to call the song “Rollergirl”.

She gets rock and roll and a rock and roll station
And a rock and roll dream
She’s making movies on location
She don’t know what it means
And the music make her wanna be the story
And the story was whatever was the song, what it was
Rollergirl, don’t worry
D.J. play the movies all night long, all night long

h/t to Genius.com

Coffee is being re-homed into my body as I type. Time to rock another day before it rocks me. Hope peace and grace comes out of the shadows to warm and shelter us all. Till then, here we go, one more time around the sun. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, October 13, 2025. Rain cascading onto the roof and hammered me awake. 40 F outside with a high of 52 on order. I asked Alexa about the weather. She said it was cloudy. I asked her if it was going to rain. “It might rain starting at 9 AM but it should stop by 10 AM.” This was at 7:30 as the rain drove down.

Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, is in the ICU for afib. He’s 95 and suffering from multiple issues stemming from a fall down the stairs last week, but has cancer that predates his fall. Mom told my sister that she wanted to get Frank’s phone to see if he’d been talking with Joan. Joan was Frank’s best friend’s wife. When he saw Joan after his best friend died, Frank kissed Joan. Mom was furious and has claimed ever since that Frank is secretly meeting with Joan. Mom told sis, “If I find out that he’s been talking to her, then I’ll throw him out.” She then kept calling Frank’s daughter to see if she had Frank’s phone. Sis reminded Mom that Frank was in the ICU and may not live. “I know,” Mom answered. We’re not sure that she does.

Sister’s text exchange relating got The Neurons to play the Gin Blossoms with “Follow You Down” in the morning mental music stream. Don’t ask me what they’re thinking.

My wife has no energy today and seems down but it’s our day to do food deliveries, so here we go. May grace and peace find and keep us. Cheers

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Fridaz Theme Music

Rain just kicked in here. Dark and gloomy. Feels lifted from a gothic novel. All the blinds are up but sunshine has vacated its post. The rain though, is a comforting background song. Fall is here, the scene outside proclaims. Get used to it.

We will. Then we’ll tire of it, and the great conveyor belt will carry winter to us. We’ll get used to that and tired of that and hit the holidays and a new year and then start looking for spring. It’s almost a tradition.

Papi is tres upset by this weather change. His downcast expression has WTF written large. I tell him, “Stay in, you’ll be happy.” After desultory outdoor expeditions, he agrees and find a space to sleep.

48 F now, we won’t see 60 today. This is Frida, October 20, 2025, in Ashland, Oregon. Ashlandia.

Trump didn’t win the Noble Peace Prize. I am so happy that the deranged bully didn’t win that honor. The prize went to María Corina Machado, from Venezuela, who worked to restore democracy to that nation. Can we get her up here? Trump’s head would explode. And congratulations to María Corina Machado for a well-deserved honor.

Back in ‘Murica, Speaker Mike Johnson (R-Hell) spoke, refreshing the impression that he’s an idiot.

‘Angry’ Johnson lashes out — says Dems need to be ‘physically separated’ from Republicans

This from Alternet:

“We’re so angry about it,” he told Fox News. “I mean, I’m a very patient guy, but I have had it with these people,” the Speaker said, emphatically, of Democrats. “They’re playing games with real people’s lives.”

Yeah, that jackass is angry that the Democrats are not caving and that more voters are realizing that the Epstein Shutdown of 2025 is a Trump GOP gift, a product of the Regime’s Misery Machine. Trump and the GOP control Congress and the Oval Office. The self-proclaimed ‘great negotiator’ can’t make a deal. As Donald J. loudly claimed back before he shut the government down three times, a government shutdown shows a weak president. He’s sitting on three. How weak does that prove him to be?

Personal news from home isn’t good. Mom’s BF, Frank, is in pretty bad shape. Hard to get details through the grapevine. Broken ribs, the hip that was replaced, heart issues, and dementia. What he’s enduring has him acting contrary to who he usually is, and he’s being violent, mean, loud, and angry. They have him restrained to a bed, someone watching him 24/7, and mitts on his hands so he can’t pull out tubes and try to escape. Little sister is pulling duty helping Mom. This is a sister who has two children. One of them lives with her. Her daughter’s BF also resides with them. She’s a grandmother who takes those duties seriously and spends time and money on her grands. She works, exercises, cooks for her family and Mom, and also keeps the books for her husband’s plumbing biz. She’s a dynamo and I’m pleased she’s there to help Mom. Other two sisters apparently have some medical problems of their own. They’re not discussing their issues but they’re not visiting Mom much.

Today’s music arises from a conversation with my orange floof, Papi. The weather has him restless. So I sang, “Lay down Papi,” to him to the tune of “Lay Down Sally” by Eric Clapton. “Lay down Papi. You don’t need go outside. I’m been trying all morning long just to pet you,” is what I sang to the boy. Natch, The Neurons were all over that, pumping “Lay Down Sally” into the morning mental music stream. And yep, that’s “Duck” Dunn on bass in this video.

Coffee is cruising through the alimentary system, delivering its needed cargo. Hope peace and grace pops out soon and visits for a prolonged period. Meanwhile, stay strong. I’ll try doing the same. And away we go. Cheers

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The Indicators Dream

I don’t know what age I was supposed to be in this dream. I felt younger, maybe in my early middle age. Anyway, I arrived at this cluttered, jumbled location. Busy with people, we were being asked to make choices. Like many others that I overheard and witnessed, I didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Acting on haste, I checked some small pails.

The pails were plastic and different colors, like red, blue, yellow, green. They reminded me of pails which children use in a sandbox or at the beach.

In these pails were some sort of small black squares. Each had tiny white letters and numbers but were mostly blank. Nobody seemed very sure about what they were or what we were supposed to do with them, but everyone was certain that we were supposed to take some. I wasn’t sure how many to take but grabbed eight. Then, following the flow of people doing who had also made their choices, I went along the line until we came to a long messy table, one of many. Above the table, three slender, black metal slats ran parallel to the table. Many already had multiple black squares attached to them. With observation and trial and error, I discovered the metal squares were magnetic and that we were supposed to attach them to the slats. Okay, I did that.

When I did, the black squares became alive with information. Watching, I realized that they were displaying information about the people who put them up, like, for me, as example. Each black square was giving out vital signs about different body functions, is how it first appeared. Most accepted that but I saw that some were just displaying dates, but not in the usual format. Pressing the dated squares showed me events from that day. As I did that, I began understanding that the white letters and numbers gave information about what was embedded and contained codes and patterns.

Assimilating this, I began excitedly talking about my realizations. Other people were disinterested, dismissing the squares. But I grasped that the squares’ functions were actually based on their relationship and placement with each other. Calling them indicators, I started telling people, “Don’t you see? If you can go back and find the right indicators for yourself, you can know your full history. Not only that, but it can also show the future for each of us.”

Moving the squares around showed me that I was right. Pressing back against the crowd, I tried to go back to the buckets to look for better black squares.

Dream end.

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

Dreary sunshine and bleached skies say hello when Papi and I step out to inspect the morning. It’s 49 F in Ashlandia today, Satyrda, October 4, 2025. A high of 60 is anticipated. The furnace was turned on to dispel some of the morning chill, as it was just 67 F in the house. Despite these clouds, rain is not a worry for us. Personal note, today is the 51st anniversary of when I swore my oath to defend the Constitution in the U.S. military.

All my appointments went very well Thursday. Texted Mom to tell her we’re coming to Pittsburgh for her 90th birthday. She says she’s looking forward to seeing us but is busy painting the kitchen cupboards right now. Dad remains in rehab in Texas. Spoke to him, and he was in terrific spirits and sounded strong, healthy, and alert.

Trump’s Venezuelan body count is 21 after U.S. missiles destroyed another boat. That’s number four. What’s the body count over/under for a Nobel Peace Prize?

The Weariness Meter is in the upper ranges today. I feel I’m flagging over the news. Think I’ll take a time out from keeping up to date. That general malaise striking me had me thinking about past and present. 1974, when I graduated from high school and joined the military, still appears as a decent year when I look back through time’s long lens. This year, 2025, feels like a terrible year on multiple levels. Reflections have me treading on a path of thought about how much we’ve regressed in my lifetime. Most of that came in the last 20 years. Hell, most of it came with Trump’s takeover of the White House in 2025. Much of it is due to Russ Vought and Project 2025 and their effective use of Trump as a dupe.

The Neurons decide to cheer me up with “Here’s Where the Story Ends” by Sundays in my morning mental music stream. Sample lyrics for you from Songfacts.com.

Crazy I know, places I go
Make me feel so tired
I can see how people look down
I’m on the outside

Oh, Here’s where the story ends
Ooh, Here’s where the story ends

It’s that little souvenir of a terrible year
Which makes my eyes feel sore
And who ever would’ve thought the books that you brought
Were all I loved you for
Oh the devil in me said go down to the shed
I know where I belong
But the only thing I ever really wanted to say
Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

It’s that little souvenir of a colorful year
Which makes me smile inside
So I cynically, cynically say the world is that way
Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

Here’s where the post ends. Hope grace and peace pop up for us someday soon. Got my coffee. Time to motor. Cheers

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife and I are traveling east in October to attend Mom’s 90th birthday celebration. I bought my airline tickets this morning. I have twenty-four hours to cancel them without punishment.

Wasn’t a pleasant process. I’ll put it out up front is that part of this is that we do fly first class. It is elitest, I guess, because we can afford it. Not really our choice, though, I’m gonna claim. My wife and I are naturally frugalish. That comes from parents who were tight with pennies, people who emerged from rural areas where the depression lingered a while. They taught us not to waste money. Then, in the military, enlisted in the 1970s through 1990s, we were solid lower middle-class earners. We’re not wealthy but we’re comfortable, yet my wife and I remain ‘natural savers’.

So saying, “Let’s fly first class,” goes against our grain. But, my wife suffers medical conditions. That’s one. Stack the airline propensity to squeeze us into tinier and tinier spaces to minimize their costs and maximize profits and executive bonuses, and you can understand why we spend the cash on first class.

Going first class automatically limits a lot of options. They aren’t many first-class seats. Usually just a few rows. On many aircraft, the last row of first-class seats do not recline or recline only a little. That severely limits the comfort level, in our experience, so that last row is out. Well, usually. That gets complicated. It’s like that on some aircraft and some airlines.

Then there’s the matter of the first row. They typically lack storage. If you’ve flown, you know that the standard storage for people is under the seat in front of them. Guess what the first row lacks? That’s right, a seat in front of you. That means your belongings must be stored elsewhere. Typically, that’s in the overhead bin, but that requires you to get up to get it. Yet if you have bad weather, you can’t just get up and get things at will.

I know, it’s a lot of complaining, isn’t it.

I’m not done.

We live in southern Oregon. Our airport is Medford. It’s a small airport. We’re flying across the nation to Pittsburgh, PA. That means we must go through hubs. San Francisco, Seattle, Salt Lake City, Denver, and Portland are the main hubs for us out of Medford. So, what time do we want to leave?

We’ve learned from nasty past flights that going early is the best option. That’s because so many friggin’ flights get canceled or delayed. Going early gives us more options when things go awry.

Then, though, there are the layover time gaps. One fight offers five hours in an airport. Another offers six minutes between flights. Six minutes. How the hell are you expected to raise from gate to gate in that time? It’s bullshit, innit?

So, those are the basic parameters for trying to cope with cost, times, space, distance, health, comfort, etc. Whatever we do, a long day is guaranteed. The best we can do is try to make it as easy as possible.

Even though the airlines seem to be actively against that sometimes. Label this as first-world blues.

4

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife and I had a minor disagreement the other day.

I had surgery to repair a ruptured tendon last year, in October, 2024. I’ve had pain of various kinds since then. One source of pain was along toes three to five, which was often stiff with burning pain. I’d mentioned it to my surgeon, as it began during my convalescence from surgery. He said that it sounds like a nerve was damaged. I felt the same. Although I’m not a medical expert or doctor, etc., I broke and dislocated a wrist in my late twenties. Pins casts immobilized that wrist and arm. I suffered from a burning, painful sensation along the pin sites after they were removed. My doc back then told me it was probably nerve damage. It did go away after about twenty years. This foot pain felt just like that pain.

While walking the other day, I felt a sudden sharp and painful snap in my foot where the toe pain resides. After gasping and slowing for a second, I resumed walking. Lo, that foot pain was gone. It hasn’t come back.

I was so elated. I went home and told my wife. She responded, “Why is this the first that I’m hearing about this?”

One, it wasn’t the first she was hearing about it. She’d forgotten me mentioning it, but I spoke about in early January of this year. I don’t blame her for forgetting it. We don’t remember everything we’re told.

Two was a broader philosophical position. Basically, I don’t tell her about every pain I endure. I’m aging, and have pains from time to time. Feet, ankle, hips, neck, shoulder, back, abdomen, eyes, etc. Those pains often go away. Their duration can last anywhere from a few hours to a week. Sometimes they limit movement, and more rarely limit my activities. My point is, pain comes and goes. I prefer to not complain. And then means, to me, not mentioning.

And there’s a little history in that. Number one was Mom. Mom as a mother often told us to stop crying, stop whining, stop complaining. She wanted us to be happy children. If we couldn’t be happy, she wanted us to be quiet.

Then there’s history with my wife about this. Long ago, when I was twenty, I was severely sick for several days. We didn’t see doctors back then for things like that. Basically vomiting, not eating, listless, sweating a lot, lot of pain. That pain resulted in some moaning and groaning.

Yeah, I got over it and lived. But about a year later, my wife was speaking to others and talked about what a baby I was when I was sick and hurt. That insulted and angered me. I told her so when we were alone. It since became a theme for her to talk about how often men complain about being sick or hurt when women are so much hardier, and more willing to endure. I finally mentioned to my wife that I disliked this reductivism about men and pain. She’s done it off and on since, and once, after seeing me give her a look when she made such a statement, apologized and claimed that she wasn’t including me. Since then, she’s slowly drifted out of the habit.

But this is how we evolve. We have our basic attitudes and tendencies, and then we react to our environment. Part of that is how we react to what we hear. What is said about us, especially by those we love, admire, and trust. Maybe I’m being thin-skinned, but words matter. Part of my problem, too, is that I seem to have a very strong memory. I don’t easily forget or forgive.

I guess that’s my bottom line.

1

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Satyrda, September 27, 2025. 72 F and sunny with an autumn blue sky. 88 F is the expeceted peak temperature for Ashlandia.

Another night of dreams means another hour of recording the details and thinking through meanings. Meanwhile, The Neurons served up “Changes” by Yes. Not just for the closing of another coffee haunt, but several other local restaurants put up permanently closed signs. Both were good sources for vegan and vegetarian meals, which made them good for me and my wife, who is a vegetarian who eats fish and eggs. One was GoBowld, a terrific place for fresh organic food. I think it lasted less than a year. Second one, Sauce Whole Food which lasted several years before closing last week, another good place for fresh, tasty food with unique fusion blends, gone. Both were located where other businesses have cycled through, trying and failing to make a go. The locations seem fine but appear to be cursed. Anyway, all this prompted The Neurons to put “Changes” into my morning mental music stream.

My wife collected fruit and vegan cookies for Steve’s wife, Andi. Steve passed a week ago. Andy has multiple food allergies so they took this route. My spouse purchased a used basket from Goodwill and put it all together with a bow on it. We’ve made arrangements to deliver it to Andi today.

A whole pineapple is the centerpiece but it’s hard to see behind the shiny plastic. There’s also someone’s offering of homemade plum jam.

Pleased to see that the court ruled multiple statements Mike Lindell made about Smartmatic and Lindell’s bogus stolen election claims are defamatory. You’d think that would be lesson for Lindell and the whole stolen election contingent, but no, many of them don’t learn. They’re just like their master, DJ TACO Trump. Instead of learning, they’ll claim the legal system doesn’t work or the deep state didn’t give Lindell a fair trial.

May peace and grace find its way to us and lift us up and carry us on into a better life. Till then, I’m relying on coffee. Here we go. Cheers

2

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Well, Steve died. 85 years old. Diagnosed with cancer in his liver, kidneys, and lungs, his decline was a full slide down a steep hill. Just a few months ago, we were laughing, talking, enjoying drinks and music at a lake in the late afternoon sun. The question before us is, did he use the cocktail? This is Oregon where we have right to death laws. Steve had requested a cocktail to end his life and planned to use it. Laws control when the cocktail can be used. His wife was just requesting the cocktail last week, so we suspect that Steve died on his own yesterday, September 21, 2025.

I support the right to death, BTW. I’ve witnessed too many people growing feeble and drained by their disease to wish that on others. Many people can no longer probably communicate as they hang on by their skins. Sickness, pain, disease, and medication twist and torture their personalities into new folds. By the time of their death, they’re barely the person they used to be. But I also understand and respect others’ needs and desires to hold on as long as they can. Dying and death are complicated matters.

The thing about Steve is that we only knew each other for about three years. Our rapport was immediate. Our wives were good friends and we all became good friends, socializing multiple times at plays, concerts, and dinners. It just seemed like he and I knew each other forever.

Meanwhile, sis reports Mom has moved into her new room. Except Mom’s clothes are still upstairs. That’s a major matter. Although Mom tends to wear a series of night clothes and casual active wear these days, her closet was rigidly organized by season, color, and fabric. Tough transition for her, to cull the threads to current needs only.

This growing old, though. Coping. It’s tough. I’m at the coffee shop thinking and typing. A casual friend of two decades comes by. She uses two canes now to get around but her smile remains as bright as sunshine off snow brilliant.

All just thoughts to help me sort matters, matters which I’ll probably continue sorting until I do my own self-checkout. I won’t even try to predict when that’ll come. From what I’ve seen, change can be sudden and complete. Then again, some demises are a long trip into night.

4

Sundaz Theme Music

Another still chill morning embraces Ashlandia. Sunda, September 21, 2025. Awakening at 7:07 AM, I stare at the time and the light, noting how much morning light we’ve already shed as we edge forward and autumn gets ready to pounce on us. 66 F, 76 F is the day’s expected high, with muddled clouds squatting on us.

My wife is angry with her phone today. Not a phone savvy person. It makes noises at her and she barks, “What,” and picks it up with a malevolent gaze. It wouldn’t surprise me if she throws it down. She and phones are not friends. She plays a video of the “We Don’t Care Club” which has us laughing. Here’s a sample.

Sis shared photos of Mom in her new room. Looks warm, full of light, but cozy. I think Mom will be happy there for a while. We hope being on one level will reduce her fall risk. We’re all at least mollified for a while that she should move into assisted living.

Trump’s continued attacks on the United States has me infuriated. More Americans disapprove of his actions. A gap is growing between MAGA and non-MAGA Republicans. MAGA think Trump will deliver them to the land of milk and honey. Polls show that the wealthy, with the financial padding and income to pay more for goods, are increasingly happy with Trump’s policies. Not a surprise. Trump is exercising leverage and power through the Federal structure. The latest is his H1B 100K plan. That’s sure to gouge the U.S. healthcare system, technology development, higher education, and the economy. Trump and the GOP powers will be happy. As the fallout trickles down to the MAGAs, they’ll get upset but they’ll reliably blame Obama, Biden, and Democrats in general. Then Trump will attack another ship or place, kill a few more in the name of peace, and MAGA attention will wander away. Meanwhile, Trump makes himself richer at all others’ expense.

Meanwhile, my wife and I were just discussing someone’s bizarre explanation about how an earthquake shows that God was upset with Charlie Kirk’s death. Next, we might start hearing that Kirk actually rose after three days.

Today’s song emerges from Papi and I doing late night stargazing. Just considering the stars last night, I wondered about those far-off gems. They seem so docile out here but to consider them as explosive places, places with gravity that can suck me in, crush me like a can under a garbage truck, trips the mind into deep wonder. That brought up the line, “Someday you will find me caught beneath a landslide in a champagne supernova in the sky.” And here we are, with the song still playing in my morning mental music stream.

May peace and grace find you, and do it soon, damn it. Off I go, into the mildly cloudy day. Cheers

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