

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not

The DIY cycle continues. This week, I bought and replaced a burned-out bulb in my wife’s car, replaced window blinds, and exchanged some bathroom faucet cartridges.
The blinds were for the guest room and are part of our modernization process. The window is 72 inches wide. We had wooden plantation blinds in there. While visiting Mom last year, we saw zebra blinds. Deciding that we liked them, we bought them online. They were frankly a very easy swap over. I did need different mounting brackets but that ‘weren’t no thang’. Whole thing of moving the bed to reach the window, taking down the old stuff, putting up the new, and cleaning up afterward took about 45 minutes. The results are very pleasing.
Changing the damn bulb for the car, though, was accompanied by a lot of GRRRRs and swearing. The bulb was in my wife’s 2003 Ford Focus driver side headlight. It’s a tight space, cleverly engineered, but TIGHT, and required a lot of working via just the feel of my fingers. Removing the old one took about forty-five minutes and ten thousand swear words. Most started with F. Putting the new one in required another fifteen.
The thing is, the bulb is held by a spring door, if you will, which must be pinched and swung aside to get it out. Man, that thing refused to obey my bidding.
But it’s done.
As for the Kohler faucet cartridges…
This is a regular thing. We have three bathroom sinks with these cartridges with two per sink. They seem to need to be replaced about every four to five years. It’s exasperating but easy. I only needed to do one cartridge, one sink on this round. Five minutes, in and out.
Now I’m waiting to see, what’s next?
Something always emerges in DIY world.
Ashland, Oregon — Saturday March 21, 2026.
56 F, spring is holding on against a late winter effort. Today’s sky favors heavy cloud blanketing and pots of sunshine. Blue has been shouldered out of the scene. Our high will tap the low sixties and tomorrow is supposedly going down into the 30s at night.
Round and round is going round my head. I began writing about the news. It became so Trumpcentric, I split it off.
I’m also going round and round with health matters. It’s bizarre to me because I feel pretty damn good. Could lose a few more pounds, and if you’re giving out miracles, put some hair back on my head.
They found a mass in my bladder yesterday. Not big, something like 2cm. We’ll check it out next week, see what it is, deal with it. The CT scan said liver, intestines, spleen, pancreas, appendix all look good. No loose fluid. Kidneys are intact and the right one has come calculi. The summary says all those things look just like they did in the 2021 scans, when kidney stones advanced out of my left kidney. Oh, what a night.
Everything with Mom is going round and round. The tale is familiar and old. Mom seems happy, enjoying others’ company, goes silent with all. All seems well. Then WHAMO. We’re bowled over by unexpected news and then wait for updates. Mom is being very cagey. We’re letting the assisted living home and county adult social services run the show.
So round we go, weather, health, Mom, Trump. The Neurons have blessed me with “You Spin Me Round” by Dead or Alive in the morning mental music stream. The song’s sentiment is about seeing and wanting someone. The disco beat just has me hooked on the idea that things keep me going round like a record.
Amusing: do the children know what it means to go round like a record?
Probably as much as I knew about ‘going spooning’ or a bicycle built for two.
Going round with a cup of coffee now. Hope your day goes well and peace and grace came around.
Cheers
Quixoatic (floofinition) – Animal behavior marked by lofty ambitions which cause chaos. Origins: First seen in print in the novel “Floof Quixotic”, 1855.
In Use: “Dandy’s nights were quixoatic pursuits of bugs, spiders, and things which she only saw — awakening her people with a symphony of as pots meeting the floor.”


Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, March 18, 2026.
Sunshine and blue sky rule this morning. My current thermometer reading is 53 F with 79 F possible after seeing 80 yesterday.
The assisted living facility where Mom resides shared pix of their St Patrick’s day festivities. There was Mom, smiling, looking happy with a silly little green hat on.
Sis suspects that our youngest sister is secretly in contact with Mom and helping her. Mom has been quiet, not reaching out to any of us. Maybe we’ve found the balance for peaceful co-existence. I plan to send Mom a small Easter present.
We’re deeply into the Fuck Around, Find Out phase of Trump’s second term. After expending a lot of air and time on how ‘hot’ the United States is as a country, how other nations were ‘going to hell’, and how we don’t need them, Trump is now asking for help.
According to Trump, nobody anticipated Iran’s response after they were attacked. In fact, who didn’t anticipate it, other than Trump? Now, as the war and its costs are dragging on and dragging him down, he called on other nations to help.
No, they responded.
It’s classic FAFO.
Likewise, Trump insisted his tariffs were legal and would save the nation. No, to both, almost everyone outside of the GOP said. The Supreme Court ruled that the largest ones Trump installed were illegal and refunds were due, a costly, prolonged project.
Trump claimed that last year’s 4th quarter GDP would be 5.4%. It came in at .7%. He claimed his tariffs would decrease prices and unemployment. Didn’t happen. FAFO.
Meanwhile, Trump is pushing hard getting the SAVE Act passed. It’s more classic FAFO moment. We know the ramifications of the act if it passes. We’re not the fools Trump thinks we are. Neither are the Democrats in Congress refusing to go along with the SAVE Act, no matter what Trump threatens.

Trump acts alternately triumphant and angry, demanding help and attention and insisting it’s not needed. His performance reminds The Neurons of a song by the Who, “I’m One” from “Quadrophenia”.
This song is about a young man struggling with mental issues, trying to fit in, coping to find out who he is and create an identity for himself. That’s where I think Trump is. His threats and bullying have less and less impact. What he thought would work isn’t working, and even his bubble isn’t protecting him from knowing the truth any longer.
May this day find you chilling with some hope and grace that Trump will bottom out, the Democrats will take over in a blue wave, and we can begin fixing the Trump Mess. It’s so bad, I think that’s how we should call this period from when Trump began running for office last decade until he’s finally gone: the Trump Mess. We can refer to things pre TM and post TM. Trump likes his name on things. I think we give it to him.
Although Trump Mess might not be strong enough. Trump Hole? Trump Disaster?
Something to think about.
Cheers

Excluding oral surgeries, I’ve had four surgeries in the past half dozen years.
A urologist did the first for a blocked bladder. Next came a broken arm and orthopedic surgery, followed by an orthopedic surgeon repairing a ruptured tendon. Then, last fall, a different surgeon removed my gallbladder.
What’s interesting about this is that these four surgeons left the system within a few months of doing my surgery.
My suspicions are inflamed. Were they just put there to operate on me or did operating on me give cause to have them removed?
Either way, it’s a troubling trend.
I’m keeping an eye on my oral surgeon. At least he’s still here.
For now.
I tried logging into Gmail this morning.
This page came up:
“We’re sorry, but your account is temporarily unavailable. We apologize for the inconvenience and suggest trying again in a few minutes. You can view the Google Workspace Status Dashboard for the current status of the service.
If the issue persists, please visit the Help Center »“
Well, hell.
The “Google Workspace Status Dashboard” shows a green checkmark for the current status. Everything is working fine.
Just as I expected.
It’s just me.