Summer remains in full effect here. While it’s a pleasant, blue-sky 70 now, we expect 94 F to arrive before the sun curves out of sight.
Papi says, that’s okay. Let’s get something to eat, clean up, and take a nap.
With little surprise and total arrogance, Trump insisted on a huge fireworks display for the 4th. Per nature’s rules, that caused pollution which resulted in unhealthy air for We the People living and visiting there. The situation was made worse by the extreme heat the area is experiencing. Saturday’s temperature reached 103 degrees F that day. The extreme heat caused the pollution to linger.
I have “Cinnamon Girl” stuck in my morning mental music stream. It’s dream related. I had three dreams last night and one involved a woman with cinnamon-colored skin. With my wife, she and I were taken aback by the woman’s beautiful skin. She was petite, barely more than a girl. We saw her three times in the dream but never spoke with her. Instead, we would be walking through the throngs, look up and say, “Look, there’s the cinnamon girl.”
So, here is the song by Neil Young and Crazy Horse.
May happiness and joy fill your Monday and carry you into a brighter, better future.
Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, May 14, 2026.
It’s blue out there, full of sunshine. Clouds are absent. 50 F with a high in the mid 70s today.
Thunderstorms looked possible yesterday but it didn’t happen. Just as in the previous days of forecasted activity. After the winter snow drought, May is at 3% of its average rainfall.
Our snowpack is at about 7%. While the reservoirs are above 80%, without snowmelt to replenish them, it’ll be a hot, dry summer. Stack the El Nino predictions, many of us are bracing ourselves for a rough year ahead.
Mom’s state is not good. She wasn’t responding to my sister’s texts. Sis called the assisted living facility, Heritage Grove, to ask about Mom. They said Mom went to bed before dinner and had not felt well all day.
On the optimistic side of the board, two neighbors are reportedly interested in buying Mom’s house.
My wife and I had new tires installed. For the record, we replaced a set that we’d bought in 2019. Got 35,000 miles out of them. Not great, not bad.
We bought them at Costco and had them installed there, shopping while we waited. As we were in the Medford area, we decided to eat out and chose the Texas Roadhouse Restaurant. My wife likes the salmon they serve there.
We couldn’t eat there. The way was blocked by ambulances and firetrucks. Wondering what’s going on, we took to our phones to learn. Nothing at the fire department, alert system, social media, or local television stations could give us that info.
This duplicated a Tuesday incident, in my mind. Driving home from writing at the coffee shop, one lane of traffic was blocked off in front of an SOU building on Siskiyou Avenue. What happened? I searched for information after I got home and couldn’t find anything. 24 hours later, the answer came: a woman had driven across the median strip, up a walkway, and into a building, breaking a gas meter along the way.
Miserable headlines fill my feed. When will there be good news? I’m not sure what I mean by good news at this point. An end to wars would be nice, along with a return to normalcy. Normalcy to me is let’s take action against polluting our air and water. Action against climate change. But the cynic in me says that PINO Trump would take credit for whatever and enough brain-dead people would slurp that down and bray about how great Dozy Donnie is that I’d regurgitate everything taken in during the last three days.
But here’s the state of things in the United States nation in one sharp observation someone else made:
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
Paraphrasing, Trump lies, says this isn’t so bad, Biden! Because that worked well previously under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!
Enough people with brains are responding, screw you.
You started a war, Donald J “No new wars” Trump.
The economy is a mess, gas prices are rising, all the prices are rising, Donald J “We’ll cut prices on day 1” Trump, and the country is going in the wrong direction.
And you, DONALD J TRUMP, YOU ARE THE REASON WE’RE IN SIX MILLION MESSES WITH NO WAY OUT EXCEPT TO FIRST GET RID OF YOU AND YOUR CRONIES.
Now stop building the damn ballroom and release the damn Epstein files so we can feast on your political corpse.
The Neurons inserted “Mind Games” by John Lennon into my morning mental music stream. This actually came about from Papi’s state of mind this morning. I played with him and his favorite nemesis, the red dot. The play began abruptly. As soon as he engaged, I stopped for about a minute. He kept peeking left and right, waiting for it to reappear. Just as he started walking off, I blinked it back on. Off Papi went, chasing it across the room, then stalking it.
I hope your Thursday brings you some good news and fair winds, assuming you need winds to get somewhere. Like you drive a sail car and need to have wind to blow you along the Interstate.
First, I’ll tell you about my typical summer wardrobe.
But first, a side path.
The side path is that I suffer from edema. Maybe it’s the lymphatic flavor. Medicos are out about the source and cause. Addressing it means I wear knee-high support hose. They work, help, however you want to put it. However, I’m a vain guy and don’t want to be seen wearing them outdoors.
My standard summer clothing choice since I was a small child are short pants, or shorts. I’m not going out in them while wearing my support house. I’ve seen folks out there in that combo. I admire their courage. Did I mention that I’m vain?
All this means I had a new challenge: what to wear when the sunshine and air conspire to push temperatures into the 80s, 90s, and 100s, as happens here in Ashlandia in the months between May and October. Jeans do not work for me. They feel hot, sweaty, and constricting.
My wife said, “You should wear joggers.”
Suspicions roused themselves. What was that? Joggers? I know what they are. I’ve seen young people in them. And women wear them. I’m not a young person or a woman. However…
I began sniffing around joggers. Looking for garments which will meet my needs. There are men’s joggers out there, but they often lack pockets. I like having pockets, especially those of the pouch type on my front thigh, where I can safely and comfortably deposit my wallet.
My search culminated at Costco. There, as if in answer to my hopes, were Wrangler Men’s Tech Pants. Made of synthetics, they met all my other needs, and were priced to move at $22. I put them into the cart and tried them on at home.
They fit. They’re comfortable. And they look good without attracting attention. I am not fond of attraction.
After wearing the black ones for a few days, I purchased them in grey and khaki. My vanity is appeased, and my wife is pleased with my appearance. All in all, a small win-win for me.
Thirstda, July 17, 2025, slid into Ashlandia with a fresh load of heat. And here we were, still dealing with the heat we already had. We’re in the yellow for air quality, a mind surprise if you look at the air’s discoloration. 87 F now, 1 PM, it’s hit 99 F before the heat subsides. Same ol’ story for the last several days.
Yes, we did early morning shopping runs so I’m into writing late. For reasons which The Neurons keep closehold, they have Van Halen playing “Finish What Ya Started” from 1988 and OU812 in the morning mental music stream. It could be very any number of recent news stories. One that particularly jumps out is the morphing Epstein saga. Once told as a horror story about Democrats, Trump wants it out of print and out of mind. His stance, so curiously different than how he stood not so long ago, amuses many and inspires more to want the files released. Who knows if that’s what The Neurons had in mind. They may have also been pointing to TACO’s tariff tango, where he slides forward and slips back about what’s going on with tariffs.
Coffee has been rehomed in my systems. Time to rock and roll another day. Here we go. Hope it all goes well for you. Cheers
I begin my Sunda with the summer morning ritual. I step out to rebalance my circadian rhythm, feel the air temp, and give it a sniff test. How hot is it now and how much smoke is polluting the air are the dual concerns. Today it’s now 80 F, up from the 71 F holding when I first went out. We’ll be at 103 F today, a few degrees above yesterday’s 99.8 F. The smoke isn’t bad. I water things and close windows, sealing us against whatever nature is plotting against us today. I have learned that by closing the blinds and windows and keeping everything shut, we’ll be 13-15 degrees cooler than outside. We like to use fans to move the air when it warms, as the air conditioning, while cooling, makes our noses run. My wife is one who needs heat anyway.
This is Sunda, July 13, 2025. It’s a cousin’s birthday, but she passed away. Cancer. Cheery morning thought. Then I ate a lucious moderate-sized fig, savoring the experience with a slow chew, trying to be mindful. I don’t think I’m mindful enough. At 69 yo, can I become more mindful?
I jogged yesterday morning. It was a whim and I wasn’t prepared, just testing myself to see how far I could go before my body rebelled. The Fitbit says that was 2.5 miles, surprising me. It felt good. I jog walked home, thinking that I should combine those words and create a word: jolk. Yes, I jolked home, letting my sweat drip dry. No aftereffects strike this morning, knock wood. I thought I’d hurt somewhere.
ICE and wildfires dominates our news feed. Nextdoor reports an ICE vehicle was spotted in Ashlandia yesterday morning about 9:30 on Ashland Street by the cemetery. People advise others to report it on the app. A judge blocked random ICE raids in LA. We’ll see if this is appealed to the Roberts Court and swatted away. A man died from a fall during a chaotic ICE raid.
Getting news of the local fire plaguing us, the Neil Creek fire, is problematic. Something like 72 fires are burning in southern Oregon and northern California. The Neil Creek fire is closest to us but isn’t threatening anything (last heard) and is not large. Media focus is on the big burners. I understand that but my understanding doesn’t alleviate my frustration over lack of Neil Creek fire information. The last updates were days ago. Also, I haven’t seen or heard tankers since yesterday morning. Surely all this must mean good news, right? I finally find a Neil Creek fire update on Watchduty from fourteen hours ago. It’s five percent contained. Then there’s a summary:
Despite increased fire behavior, crews held fire lines with the help of helicopter water drops. Firefighters continue to strengthen lines and expand mop-up around the fire. Along the south end of the fire, crews removed hazardous standing dead trees to allow firefighters to access the southern perimeter safely.
There was an incident in the night. The neighbor’s dog erupted with furious barking. Bear or cougar, my wife thought, hurrying to the back door. She flicked on the lights and opens the door but stays in, leaning out to look around. I get a flashlight. By then the dog’s owner has talked the dog down and quiet has reclaimed the world.
“Overkill” by Men At Work is in the morning mental music stream. It’s all about the line, “I can’t get to sleep.” I awoke sometime in the night a few hours after the barking dog, mulled and dissected a dream and then the writing muses took over. I wrote for a while in my head before I managed to shut them down with a meditation process I use to induce sleep in myself. But the song remains in the morning mental music stream. While looking for a video to use, I found this accoustic version by Colin Hay, the band’s vocalist, where he’s backed by a choir. I thought it a cool difference maker and offer it to you.
Coffee has been sucked up. Time to press on. Hope your day answers your needs. Cheers
And we’re rocking, and we’re rolling, and we’re going through Thirstda, July 10, 2025. 66 F under smoke laced blue skies, 91 F is our high. Yesterday has some pleasant spots sprinkled liberally through the hours as a southerly wind carried the Neil Creek fire away. The winds have died and a listless, irritating smoke scent hangs. They are warning, “The heat is coming,” in a reversal of the Game of Thrones warning about winter. Both warnings are either met with a shrug by some or a grimace by complainers like me.
Don’t have interest in writing or thinking about bad news, which is most news these days. So I’m skipping over that. My dream machine continued functioning on high last night. I had one interesting dream where I went up to a pole to get books. About a foot thick and too high to know how tall it was, the pole was a hexagon and mostly dark green with writing on it which I never read. Others would sometimes be there, waiting to get backs. After repeat visits, I found I had four ways of getting books from the pole. One I described as magic, because the pole knew what I wanted and delivered the book to me just by thinking about, without even having a need to go to the pole. That pleased me immensely.
Today’s music is a song heard on television the other day. The Neurons took a liking to its jaunty, catchy style and brought it back to the morning mental music stream for today. It’s by Myles Smith, came out in 2024, and is called “Nice to Meet You”. Hope it catches on with you.
I went with the original and not the version with Lainey Wilson which came out a little later.
Hope you have a good day. Off to do yard work before the heat gets here. Cheers
June is going out on a heat wave in Ashlandia. Topping out at 99 F today, Sunda, June 29, 2025. It’s okay out there for now, 62 F but the sun is already flexing its heat. Went out there for my morning circadiam rhythm adjustment and the sun heat drove me into the shadows fast. It’s not to last; by Wenzda, we’ll see it drop back down into the mid and upper 80s.
Active dream night. From one of them comes today’s theme music. The dream was about delusions, illusions, magic, and tech. Hearing of that, The Neurons came up with a few songs for the morning mental music stream. First up was “Abracadabra”, a 1982 rock song brought into the world by Steve Miller and his band. It’s pretty standard rock radio fare. Diana Ross apparently partly inspired the song. From Wikipedia:
The song is said to have been inspired by the American singer Diana Ross, whom Miller had met when they each performed on the same episode of the pop music television show Hullabaloo in the 1960s.[3] The lyrics “Round and round and round it goes, where it stops nobody knows” are a reference to the spinning wheel segment from The Original Amateur Hour.
Speaking on The Howard Stern Show in June 2016, Miller said at first his record company Capitol Records did not see the potential hit it would become. “Capitol didn’t believe in it and didn’t want to release it. I had a different deal with Phonogram in Europe. When it came out in Europe, I cancelled my American tour because it was No. 1 everywhere in the world, except the States.”[citation needed] After seeing its success overseas, Capitol released it in the U.S. and it also climbed to No. 1.
Ah, good ol’ “Hullabaloo”! I remember watching that with Mom and my sisters.
But, as The Neurons will do as I’m busy humming “Abracadabra”, they thrust the Lady Gaga song by the same name from 2025 into the morning mental music stream. Jarring as a train wreck as the two songs are well different. But singing that abracadabra refrain with her is fun.
Got my hot coffee. Keep cool or warm, safe and dry, whatever need be, wherever you’re at. Here we go. Cheers
The morning’s routine skipped past faster than a visit with a good friend. Starting at 53 F when Papi ordered me out of bed, the sun pushed the day through the sixties in short order. It’s a hot sun. Yeah, all suns are hot, but you know what I mean, that given air temp and sun angle and other factors, this one puts out extensive heat in our region. A cool northerly breeze sometimes drops in with relief. We sit at 75 F as we race toward an 89 F high. Sunshine? You bet. Blue sky cuts a fine scene behind the green themes of the hills and mountains surrounding us. Ice still caps the highest posts for a moment. This is Twosda, May 27, 2025.
My wife and I spoke about transitioning out of the holiday mode. I said, “Isn’t it interesting that we’re aware of that, that we feel that, even though we don’t work? Yet, we feel that holiday spirit.”
She made a face. “It was a weak holiday. We have the so-called leader of our country denigrating and insulting many of those who fought for this country because of a difference in politics or skin color and things like that. It’s pretty sad. Pathetic, really.”
No argument from me. I’m pleased that with the bad weather warnings and air traffic control issues, no major disaster marred the weekend. That feels like slim praise: yea, no crashes! We made it. But that’s the state of the nation under Trump.
I read that consumer confidence was up higher than economists expected. I heard that it was because Trump put off doing something with tariffs. People apparently responded, “Yea, we’re saved!” I had to laugh. Like the arsonist didn’t start a fire, so everyone is happy because there’s no fire to put out.
Meanwhile, the Senate takes up Trump’s Big Disastrous Bill. One of them at least and at last mentioned the piece of non-finance legislation in this spending bill that says, “Courts can’t say Trump or his administration are in contempt.” So they just want to keep re-writing the laws to cut out criticism of his un-Constitutional behavior. That’s so sad, weak, and spineless. If the merits his decisions and ideas can’t stand the scrutiny of the law, they’re not worthwhile. By calling for weaker enforcement against him, the Greedy Old Trump Party just hastens us toward the bottom. We’ve been climbing that mountain for hundreds of years and they’re happily pushing us back down it.
Dreams influence by music choice today. A lasting image from my dream had me speeding through a bold blue sky. It wasn’t flying but free fall. But The Neurons supplied “Fly By Night” by Rush to my morning mental music stream. The progressive rock song from 1975 has a spirited, uplifting feel to it. It came out the year my wife and I married, and was sort of an anthem for me as I went about my military career. Neurons have it right as a theme choice, I think, as the lyrics go, “Fly by night away from here, change my life again.” That’s about how I feel, but in a good way.
Coffee has made its entrance. Time to rock on. I hope the best for you and your day. Here we go again. Cheers
I realized that I never issued a DIY update on my HVAC.
Background, the AC had ceased. I checked the usual issues and found nada. The A/C capacitator worked. 240 was reaching the unit. Nothing was coming from the thermostat.
After replacing the furnace’s stepdown transformer for the furnace and the furnace control panel and seeing no success, I tested the furnace cover’s safety switch. No power there. I tested the power into the junction box. No power.
The switch for the furnace is mounted on the wall not far from the furnace, right above the entrance into the space as you climb up the ladder from the garage. Not an easy access space. To check that box, I’d need to throw the circuit breaker for the furnace. That would kill any useful light in the attic space.
I mounted my trouble light up there on a rafter. Connecting it with an extension cord, I plugged it into a garage wall socket below. Light was restored. My largest concern was that my right ankle would roll on me while I was standing on the ladder. Although I wore a brace on it, it weighed on my mind. I imagined it rolling and toppling off the ladder. Such an imagination. I should write fiction.
Pulling the cover off the switch, I discovered the quick connects in it fried. Replacing the unit was short work after purchasing a new one.
Job done. Just in time for cold nights and morning. Really satisfying to hear that furnace start and run.
Michael Seidel, writer 