Greetings from Cape Perpetua. Two miles south of Yachats, Oregon, Cape Perpetua is part of the coast range, the Siuslaw. We visited this morning after breakfast. Breaky was again at a favored eatery, The Green Salmon. My choice was a “Only Murder” sausage (plant-based) and Just Egg omelet with red peppers and vegan Swiss and cheddar cheeses and rye toast. Awesome.
The view from Cape Perpetua overlooking the Pacific, where the weather stole the blue. August 24, 2025, about 12:30 PM. If you look closely, a road is spotted. That’s Highway 101. Runs all along the Oregon Coast and then goes into California to points south. Above/east of 101 is the Visitor Center. We hit it next.
It’s Sunda, August 24, 2025. Beat down by fog and wind, 64 was the day’s high. Still lovely. The casa’s regular routine has us punching back into our dwelling at 3ish. We then become the napping dead or silence is ordained by people reading books. After reading, I sucked in coffee and went on a brisk beach walk. The path was mostly mine as everyone shunned a chilly, damp wind. Now we’re settling in for dinner. Cooking rotates. Tonight’s chef is making salmon burgers with chips and guacamole. Dessert is chocolate ice cream, fruit, or fondue.
Today’s music is “Tightrope” by Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble. I don’t know why The Neurons called this up during my pre-breakfast stroll. Mine is not to question why, just sing along and go for the ride.
Coffee and wine have been imbibed. Hope peace and grace find and hold you today and every day. Cheers
A gorgeous day of blue sky and blue ocean gave us a sunny good-morning today. 65 F that feels like 71. Skin-chilling sea breeze skips off the water and charges up over us. Today’s high is that 65. It was a short climb from the overnight low of 58 F. Narrow margins preside over this period of weather for the most part.
TACO revealed his cowardly side again. First, he’d demonstrated his authoritarian tendency by declaring that he was changing how we vote. Yeah, he’s smarter than the founders and everyone who has worked on the laws and mechanisms involved in the U.S. voting process since the nation was established. He also proved himself ignorant again of how the gubmint works — especially voting and states’ rights. Once again, all this has me shaking my head at all those voters who support him. Meanwhile, after pushback against his comments and ideas, TACO backed away fast from what he was saying. He realized he sounded like a fool. Trump no like looking like a fool, even though he does it so often, he’s become very adept at appearing the fool. Just another exasperating GRRRRRRR Trump Regime episode.
After reading that, it was out to walk to breakfast food. We were out there eating, having coffee, then walking. Food and drink were had at a place called The Green Salmon, one of our all-time favorite places. Delicious vegan food. I had plant-based sausage and Just Eggs sandwich on multigrain vegan bread with lettuce and tomato. Soooo gooood. Another had oat pancakes. No diary; no meats. All is plant-based, delicious, and amazing. Down where the rocky land holds on against the pounding waves, we watched one or more whales release flumes and show their backs. Funny how excited we get when we spot them.
Today’s song is “Renegades” by the X Ambassadors. This came about when one of our little vacationing tribe declared to a friendly coastal local that we were ambassadors from southern Oregon. Seizing the moment, The Neurons dialed up “Renegades” from 2015 into the morning mental music stream.
May the sun be your friend and peace and grace stay with you. Here I go again, on coffee wings. Cheers
I’m on vacation. Away from home. Know what that means? Of course, you immediately reply, “It means that your bank will no longer recognize your computer.”
I wanted to ensure certain deposits had been received. They were due from the Federal gubmint. Due to my distrust of this current direction of said gubmint, I just decided to allay concerns, log on, and check them.
“We don’t recognize this device,” the bank’s website exclaimed. “We want to send you a code to your email address attached to this account. Enter the code here.”
Sigh. Okay. I’ve been through this sock hop before. Go log into the account, which is actually my wife’s account. Can you guess what happened?
“We don’t recognize this device,” the email’s website exclaimed. “We want to send you a code to your other email address you listed. Enter the code here.”
Oh, bother. Logged into the other email account, which is also my wife’s. Note: all this was being done in the name of the joint account which we designate as belonging to my wife.
“”We don’t recognize this device,” the email’s website exclaimed. “We want to send you a code to your other email address you listed. Enter the code here.”
GRRRRR and double-GRRRRR. Screw it, I told The Neurons. This will wait until I get home next week.
BFF (floofinition) – Shorthand for ‘best floof friend’ or alternatively, ‘best fur friend’. Origins: Internet circa 1999.
In Use: “Pogo and Scheckter, aka the infamous OrangeBoiz, were not just brothers but BFFs, hunting, sleeping, eating, and playing together through all cycles of day and night and all seasons of weather.”
In Use: “It’s not uncommon for a human to become a BFF. That was certainly the case with Merlin, who cared not a paw for other animals, but adored his BFF, Shirl, shadowing her in all endeavors.”
I’m infatuated with the expression, “It’s really raining.” It’s like we were challenging the assertion that rain is falling. “No, no, it’s really raining.” In this context, though, ‘it’s really raining’ means precipitation is falling at a heavy level.
Anyway, accompanied by my floofguard, I came in from the covered patio and traveled through the house to where my wife was sitting in the snug. “It’s really raining,” I said.
“I know. I told you that a few minutes.”
“Really? I didn’t hear you. It must have ricocheted off my ear without getting to my brain.”
“You weren’t in the room. I don’t know where you were. I said it twice, thinking that you might pick it up.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I shook my head. “I guess reception was bad.”
Floofviousness(floofinition) – A quality of a clever animal who is both dishonest and tricks people and other animals while remaining successful and respected. Origins: Boston, MA, 1840.
In Use: “Quinn’s floofviousness is an earmark of his distinctive personality, for none are as adept at sneaking up, stealing food, getting away with it even when caught, by flashing wide, bright jade eyes at his accusers.”
In Use: “Rascal’s floofviousness earned him his nom de floof when he was a puppy discovered stealing socks, shoes, and underwear, stashing it under the bed for future uses which only he could imagine.”
I took on an easy DIY project yesterday. This was a new foyer light.
The new foyer light.
This was my wife’s idea. I thought the old one was fine. We’d installed it shortly after moving in back in 2005. It worked, putting out light and everything. Click on, click off.
My wife said, “We need to update our lights. It’ll make the house look newer.”
Sure, I thought with a mental shrug. I had no reason to buy a new light but had no real reason to oppose buying a new light. They don’t cost much, and the old one will be donated to Habitats for Humanity and re-used.
We went on a light search together, an outing I found tedious and boring. I found this light and offered it as a possibility. “Let me think about it,” she answered, walking away. A little while later found her back at the light. We discussed its pros and cons.
“It’s black,” I said. “With seeded glass.” She’d specified those things. That’s what attracted me to it. I’m a hunter; she established those parameters and that’s what I sought.
“It’s flush mounted,” she said. “Can you install it?”
“Yes.” I was surprised she asked. I’m a budgeteer DIY. There’s little that I don’t think I can do, given time, tools, and video instructions. But the reality is, I’ve installed over a dozen ceiling lights in my life. The first was in Germany, where I shocked myself in an episode which will only die in memory when I pass away. I’ve been a lot more respectful of electricity after that.
So, she was out yesterday — Girl’s Night at the Movies, done at 1 PM because none of them want to drive at night. The feature was Earth Girls Are Easy. With her out, I pursued the new install. Half an hour, I figured.
I’m such a stupid optimist.
After turning off the power to the light (see, lesson learned), I pulled out the ladder and removed the old light with relative ease. So far, so good. But I needed to remove the installation plate as well; the new light and old plate did not match up. No big thing, right? Just two screws.
Here’s where WTF entered the project.
I could not get one screw to turn. At friggin’ all. Different screwdrivers were tried. WTF, over? I mean, I screwed it in. I should be able to screw it back out.
By now, my body was running with enough sweat to fill a bathtub. Repositioning the ladder a few times, I positioned myself to apply max torque. I realized that part of my issue was that the mounting plate was not perfectly aligned with the screw, and that extra pressure was hampering my efforts. So, I wedged that thing around just a little. With the slowness of a MAGAt realizing that Trump lied to them, the screw finally began turning. Of course, it’s a two-inch long screw, a bolt, really. I finally got it out, though.
The rest was as easy as eating pizza. I was just finishing as my wife arrived home.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“No sweat,” I answered.
We agreed, it looks better than the old one. The photo doesn’t do it justice. It’s a lousy camera phone’s lousy photo. But the change was startling. The other light hung down about half a foot more, so it had more of a ‘presence’. The change to this light opened up the space.
I told her all that. She agreed.
“Now we just have to do the breakfast bar and dining room chandelier,” she said.
I’d installed them. Sure, that was twenty years ago, but I nodded.
And just like that, kits and kittens, it’s Frida again. Today is August 15, 2025. A cool one in Ashlandia, the mercury’s digital movement is pointing at the low 70s at the mo, but has plans to travel on to the mid 80s. Topping it with strong but not overly potent sunshine and blue skies o’er the mountains, and a recipe for a pleasant summer day has been found.
Several dreams are remembered from last night’s delivery. Talking to myself — because I was the only one there, having been abandoned by the cat (who ate and left without a sound) and the wife (who was off to exercise class) — I said, “I had too much to dream last night.” Then I laughed. But the laugh was on me as The Neurons supplied the morning mental music stream with the 1960s era Electric Prunes psychedelic song, “I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night”. Some friend of sis owned the record, so I heard it. The take on the title amused young me but I was more intrigued by the group’s strange name. It inspired me to imagine other possible names, such as the Gas Apples and Cherry Wash. Neither of those names ever caught on with a group, so far as I know.
I noticed some good news for Trump today. With economic data piling up showing prices are rising, polls are showing that Trump’s disapproval is also rising. Many more disapprove of Trump’s performance as he took over D.C.’s police force, sending in Federal law enforcement personnel. They’re a waste there, and people outside of Trump and his band of nattering nabobs knew it. They don’t like it. This is all good news for Trump, as it takes We the People’s mind off of Trump’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein. The climbing disapproval ratings for Trump means that less people are vocally showering him with reminders that he promised to release the Epstein Files and the Epstein List, and that he’s broken that promise. The rising PPI, Producer Price Index, which shows the cost of making things jumping by 9 percent in July, is good news for Trump because it takes him off the hook for releasing the Epstein Files and revealing how much he’s implicated in some of the crimes that the convicted dead sex offender did.
Jeffrey Epstein with Donald Trump
For the record, my web page scramble this morning has a side serving of a USA Today story:
The article reports that the Pew Research Center’s survey has Trump at a new high in disapproval: 60%. Of course, all eyes are on Russia, I mean, Alaska — sorry, but Trump kept saying that he was going to Russia when his trip was planned to Alaska, so it’s just stuck in my brain — where Trump is meeting with Putin to discuss Ukraine. Trump thinks he’s all that and more now, since U.S. Republicans let him push them around. I don’t think Putin is quite the pushover. But Putin knows Trump and will let TACO crow and lie about getting a victory without getting a damn thing.
Coffee is flooding The Neurons, and they’re eagerly awakening. Time to rock another day. May grace and peace flow over your day’s endeavors. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 