Sunshine and blue skies are beckoning me out in Ashlandia today. Supposed to be 78 F today, but it’s gonna have to climb from its current 52 F. Feels like the local weather has it in it to do so, though.
This is Wenzda, May 21, 2025. May is splitting past me faster than forked lightening. I’m astonished by its speed. They tell me that time goes faster for you as you age. If I reach 80, I’m be blinking away in the morning and getting ready for bed at the same time. Maybe it’ll just feel like it is.
I’m in a very good mood today. Don’t know what nutrition and hormones and factors out of my dream network and thinking network brought me to this zenith of eagerness and satisfaction. It’s a periodic thing, though. I wrote almost the same words not a few months ago. How the world seems like it’s getting thrown into the garbage disposal and the water is on and the switch is about to be thrown, taking many good things down the drain and into the past. I hear of Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” and I just want to puke with disgust and anger, yet here I am, with high spirits and happiness. Probably a high from editing myself. Reading the novel again to fix what’s wrong, I’m happy and pleased. I wrote what I like to read, and I’m enjoying it. Just like that, it’s all about me. Really is a surreal existence.
Today’s music is a ZZ Top cover. Isaac Hayes and Dave Porter wrote it. Sam and Dave recorded and released it. Then along came ZZ Top with their version of “I Thank You.” I do like ZZ’s version best; it just better suits my sensibilities. Why the song has settled into my morning mental music stream is only The Neurons to know. I’ve been reading about recent research on dreams and how they’re made. I was interested because I dream a lot. They speculate now that it’s a network working together using many more functions than originally guessed, and not housed in one specific place, like the hippocampi. Reading that, I wondered if some similar network worked to produce the songs that land in my morning mental music stream.
Going to the music, I’ll give you Sam and Dave and ZZ Top’s offerings, because we all don’t have the same musical tastebuds. Both are terrific.
Coffee is lifting me higher. I’m ready for another day, at least for the moment. Hope you have a great one. Here we go.
This is Twosda, May 20, 2025. Weather here is more of the same. 53 F now, with moderate to light clouds rolling through, going up to 70 F today. No rain expected, but it’s breezy. Sunshine has lifted us to 64 F. Papi is out there, asnooze is his favorite shelter, hidden from casual scrutiny but sufficiently exposed that he can enjoy the weather.
Mom’s tale from Pittsburgh is unsettling. Today she didn’t get out of bed. She told my sister she couldn’t walk due to her sciatica. Sis, being a physical therapist, provided Mom with exercises to alleviate the sciatica. Mom was doing them when sis left.
One, so glad that sister is there, that she’s strong and intelligent. She of the three sisters in the area has been doing the heavy lifting with Mom. She’s not the oldest or youngest child. And she bridles at many of the things she endured while she grew up. But she’s stood up again and again to take care of Mom. She’s also married to a man who is in construction. Thanks to him, things have been organized and accomplished fast. I’m so grateful to both.
Mom told sis today that Mom thinks she needs a wheelchair. My heart fell like a sinkhole when I read that text. Mom was pretty athletic and loved to dance, and loved her independence. It’s all eroding from her. Her house isn’t conducive to a wheelchair, either.
Fortunately, a little serendepity paid off. My BIL’s customer had just offered him an almost new wheelchair. As soon as Mom said that, sis texted her husband. Two hours later, Mom had a wheelchair. Mom declared it perfect.
All the fallen trees at Mom’s have been cut up, collected, piled up and offered to the world free of charge. People have been driving over and picking it up. Sis was behind that, too.
Here’s photos from Mom’s house in Pittsburgh, PA, May 19, 2025. Top set are after the wood has been cut and picked up. The windstorm was April 29, 2025.
Today’s song is Trump inspired. “Behind Blue Eyes” is a 1971 release by The Who. The Neurons brought it up as I read things that Trump said and did. I was thinking, “What is going on in that head of his?” I don’t think anyone knows. One example came via MSN and the Irish Star today.
After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.
After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.
This is just one recent example from what happened in public. What’s going on in private?
I think it’s a mess privately. As the Trump Regime loves to project, and their early reaction to news of President Biden’s cancer was to quickly propose, “Was there a coverup,” I think there’s a big coverup going on in the Trump White House.
These lyrics seem to perfectly capture Trump: he seems fated to telling only lies.
Well, writing is done, coffee is done, lunch is over. Time to change clothes and get out there and do something in the yard. Don’t yet know what. Have a satisfying Twosda. Cheers
Once again, there’s a Trump tweet out there that calls attention to his thin skin and deep ignorance.
Whether this sort of tweet is a childish impulse caused by a general lack of maturity, his narcissism, aging, or dementia, what he shows is a lack of understanding about individuals and their rights to make political statements. It’s about the Bill of Rights and freedom of speech. Yes, we know from previous words and actions, Trumps shows little knowledge of how those pieces fit together. Of course, if Springsteen had expressed love and admiration for Trump, Trump would have instantly responded about how GREAT SPRINGSTEEN IS, WHAT A GREAT AMERICAN!!! That’s the Trump. Regardless, it again shows he’s unfit for office.
We’re a nation of games. How many of us play a computer game or two each day? I am guilty. The NY Times offers me Connections, Wordle, and Spelling Bee. I play them to keep my mind sharp *ahem*. I also play Sudoku at the Seattle Times, again to exercise my brain.
Online gaming is big business. People buy special chairs, headsets, computers and support systems to play hours online. Playing games on phones are an effective way to pass time while waiting for flights, buses, or meetings to begin.
Children begin playing games at a young age. Occupies their minds, helps their brains develop, and gives parents and caregivers a break. Games such as sports like football, basketball, and baseball are idolized as a way to gain fame and fortune. Television game shows offer you a chance for cash prices, as do lottery games. Besides a chance for people to add to their bank accounts, states use lotteries to raise money for education and projects. Indian casinos have increased in numbers, bringing money in for cash-starved tribes, and tax revenues and employment for communities.
The biggest games center in Washington, DC. Trump and the GOTP, along with complicit media, love playing games with The People. For instance, the cost of eggs.
Trump lies and claims that egg prices have dropped over ninety percent. In one speech, he claimed they’d declined over 98%! Ludicrous. Meanwhile, the Dollar Store has raised its prices to $1.25 and plan to raise them more. That comes and goes under the radar as Trump games people into looking elsewhere.
If you’re a coffee drinker, you know that coffee prices have increased. Initially, it’s not Trump’s fault. Weather affected coffee crops in important coffee growing places. This is just like the egg situation; it wasn’t President Biden’s fault that egg prices increased. Bird flu was causing it. Yet, we don’t hear nearly the screams about coffee inflation that we heard about eggflation. Because Trump and his campaign hammered eggflation. The game participants called the mass media picked up the ball and ran with it, trying to score points. But now, thanks to the Trump tariffs, coffee prices are percolating higher and higher. Little is heard, though. Trump has moved their attention to another game.
Meanwhile, funny enough, check out the egg prices on eggprices.org. Their chart shows egg prices have dropped.
But check below on the same page, at the highest price per dozen in the nation, and the lowest price per dozen in the U.S.:
Isn’t that odd? Virginia is cited as having the lowest price of eggs per dozen: $7.39. Yet the chart by the Bureau of Labor Statistics shows the average price of eggs per dozen is $3.43 a dozen.
Sure seems odd. Almost like someone is gaming the BLS chart.
Trump and Walmart are probably going to game us over prices. Walmart said they’ll increase prices to cope with the tariffs. Trump warned them, you’d better not, you’d better eat them. Walmart said, okay, will do, chief. What they’ll probably do at Walmart is subtly raise prices on specific sets of items and blame other factors. Trump will let them get away with it because they’re not blaming his tariffs. But customers will be paying more; inflation will increase.
In other gaming news, we have President Biden’s prostate cancer. Of course Trump and his surrogates, such as his son and the DOJ, jumped all over it with stories of coverups. They’re gaming the nation by feeding the media distractions, moving our attention away from Supreme Court rulings, Trump failures, and Trump scandals.
Among the failures are Trump’s pretended success with a Ukraine-Russia ceasefire. Check out multiple news sources on this continuing situation.
Trump Says Russia, Ukraine Will Start Ceasefire Talks
Trump says Russia, Ukraine peace talks to begin ‘immediately’ after Putin chat
What superb gamemanship! Trump is playing everybody…in the United States.
Likewise, with Trump’s potential scandal involving the Qatari jet offer, suddenly claims emerge that the Biden administration initiated that process. Ignoring all previous history on the subject, the press dutifully pivots toward that, bringing the Biden administration back into play.
The latest word game Trump is playing is his “Big Beautiful Bill” in Congress. This thing is loaded with strategically placed bombs to undermine the nation. It focuses on making the wealthy wealthier and sinking the poor deeper into poverty. As it’s based on Project 2025 and Heritage Foundation thinking and guidance, you know that this is about easing the burden on the wealthiest, thus encouraging them to create more business for the nation. These are the same people who offshored and contracted out manufacturing jobs. These are people who hoard wealth while others starve, beg, and are rendered homeless.
This is, of course, trickle-down economics. The theory has been disproven but the wealthy and conservatives love it. So we will not hear anyone calling it that this year. But that’s what Trump is leading the GOTP to do in his “Big Beautiful Bill”.
It’s not a surprise that Trump’s approval ratings have improved in polls. Too many people are too easily taken in by the games, or they’re busy playing elsewhere.
Now, I’m off. There are six pangrams today. Let the games continue.
Noctrol(floofinition) – Floofterally, ‘nocturnal patrol’, a phrase employed by animals in reference to activities done between sunset and sunrise. Origins: 1600s, early middle Floofish.
In Use: “Spunk entered the house after her humans finally answered her summons and opened the door. Excited by all she’d seen on her notrol, she chatted to them, but all they did was tell her how sweet she was and feed her.”
In Use: “During his noctrol, Austin Powers witnessed Mark leave bed and quietly go to the kitchen, open the refrigerator and get out leftover pizza. Knowing Mark was on a diet, Austin Powers quietly joined him, demonstrating again that floofgilance pays off.”
Greetings from Ashlandia to all you Mundaheads. Yes, we’ve reached another Munda milestone in our mostly mundane lives. I’m speaking for myself, of course. I’m sure none of the rest of you deal with a Mundane Munda.
The weather here is mundane, sunshine with clouds, blue skies, and the sometimes drizzle. Out looking for spring last night, Papi, our ginger housefloof, was wet every time he re-entered the house following a nocturnal patrol. I never heard any rain. I assumed Papi was dashing through sprinklers. When I got up, though, I saw that, yeah, it had rained through the night. We’re still looking at a taste of the low 70s F today and an overnight low in the upper 40s. This week promises more time bouncing through rainshine.
Cleaning the garage and taking away the trash yesterday brought an expanse of free time to silently think. I used to do these sort of tasks with a boom box playing. I don’t bring out the boom box any longer. Boom boxes were so ubiquitous last century but I haven’t seen anyone using one for years, it feels like. So my work was done in silence. I didn’t mind the silence, as I practiced fiction writing in my head, a feat which always intoxicates my muses and brings them back to give me more.
The other thing from yesterday was the lack of floofervision. I used to share floofmeciles with several cats. Most were active floofervisors, there to help me open boxes and study the contents. Papi was more of the laissez floof management style. He showed up to see what I was doing and ensure nothing to eat was there but usually left with only a short comment. There was a time when the likes of Jade, Tucker, and Quinn would be stamping things with their paw of approval. Sort of missed that but at the same time, less interruptions to move animals were needed.
Politic news again had me GRRRRRRRRRRRing over my morning coffee. I read that the Roberts Court is allowing the Trump Regime to remove protections for Venezuelan refugees while it’s still being contested in court. A lower court had stopped the deportations and kept protections in place. Trump disliked them because, you know, President Joe Biden had extended those protections. Trump’s regime argued that the protections were not in the nation’s best interests and undermined national security. Therefore, the protections should be removed so the Venezuelans could be shipped out of the United States. Reading that, I thought, “Trump’s actions aren’t in the nation’s best interests and undermine national security. Can’t we depart him?” Then I sipped some coffee and smiled.
Another of my friends took the pledge. She wrote on FB: “I’m done posting shit about the clown. I’m just so sick of his garbage. Im sick of the clowns in Washington too afraid to stick up for the American people, their constituents or just filling their coffers with bribes from the orange clown and his fellow billionaires with the goals of killing off the poor, I’m just sorry for the folks who voted for him and will now have all of their programs and help cut.
“So I’m done. No more. I know what I know and see and read. And hopefully someone will have the balls to throw the garbage out”
We know who she means: PINO Trump. I feel her. He’s only interested in enriching himself and his family, as long as they are also going along with him.
Today’s music came during my work yesterday. As is often the case, The Neurons started song based on something they observed or perhaps a fragment of thought or a fleeting memory. They act on it, and music arrives in the mental music stream. In this case, it was a 1980 song by REO Speedwagon, “Keep On Loving You”. Why in the world did The Neurons snag this song while I was cleaning the garage and cars, etc? I don’t know. It remains in the morning mental music stream, though. Freeing myself of it requires me to offer it to the general public. So here it is, from my head to my computer to the internet to your computer (or other electronic device) and then into your head. Isn’t technology amazing?
Well, that’s the morning stuff. Coffee has been loaded and stored in my energy cells. Now I’m ready to get ‘er done. Pitter patter, here we go — again. Cheers
I dreamed that I had a blue SUV. I think it was a Chevy or GMC. It was one of the larger varieties but a recent model
The vehicle required work. I didn’t know what was wrong with it and wanted to check the SUV out, so I lifted it up and put it on its rear end. It was too tall for me, so I shrank it by motioning with my hands using them like I was squeezing the vehicle, until I was a few inches taller than it.
A person witnessing all of this asked, “How did you do that?” They went on to explain what they witness, adding, “I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. I just knew I could, so I did.”
Rain took its drops and went elsewhere. Though clouds stayed, sunshine rushed in. A swirly, restless day was had. Hot in direct sun, chilly in shadow when the wind played. We did see 66 F at our house. Now it’s dropping, expecting to stoop to the 40s overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll do it again.
For the record, this is Sunda, Mai 18, 2025.
I’ve been busy all day. This was the culmination of a cleaning project. Ashlandia and Recology were taking in trash and electronics free of charge this weekend at the transfer station. This inspired my wife and I to declare we’ll do some cleanup and rid ourselves of unused and broken old items. Beginning Twosda, I pulled, cleaned, inspected, and decided on what to do with stuff which we’d accumulated and didn’t seem to be using. I consulted with my wife as necessary. Like, we have three big boxes of china. It’s a formal dinnerware setting for twelve, acquired in Germany over a period fro 1988 to 1991. We’ve probably used them a half dozen times, and not any time in the last decade. Much of it was awarded to me as prizes in monthly, quarterly, and annual competitions at a base or specific units. Mikasa was one of the sponsors and would often give gift certificates. My wife used ones I won to buy china. No, we didn’t pitch the china. We put it aside to give to a friend who will take it to a charity boutique. A few times a year they have a big sale and include things like china. Proceeds help offset people’s cost for hospice.
My wife’s health kept her sidelined during Operation Cleanup. But I enjoyed the solitary work. While I put in a couple hours every day after writing, today was the load up and drop off. The SUV was backed up and configured. Loading began at 10:15. By 11:30, I was ready for the dump trip. I hit the line at 11:45 and inched the vehicle to the gate at 12:30. They directed me to trash and electronics, which covered my contributions. By 1 PM, I was back home.
Then I cleaned clean the car and reconfigured its seating and all that, and cleaned the garage and rearranged things to be more organized and take advantage of the cleared space. I just finished that at 6 PM. I sweated a few buckets today, and my feet are singing about their unhappiness like a bunch of hounds with the blues. I’m taking advantage of this time to post before I make my dinner.
Today’s song turned out to be “On A Carousel” by the Hollies. They released it in the 1960s. It’s a song about love and the up and down ride you’re on when you’re in love. I was using it to think about Trump. We’re going around and around with him as he whines about the judicial system and courts, ignores the Constitution, threatens anyone who disagrees with him, and then acts like an idiot who mated a jackass. Guess that would be a idioass or a jackiot. Did you hear about him and his video where he’s supposed to be playing “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey in concert? His connections with reality frays more every hour. His supporters don’s seem much better. Guess they’re holding on to their dreams.
PINs and passwords are integral to first world life. Friends and I discussed how we manage our passwords and PINs. All that caused me to think and smile.
There’s an article out there about ‘things our children wouldn’t know about’ because whatever it was is now obsolete. Telephone party lines, rolodexes, TV ‘rabbit ears’ and outdoor antennas, carbon copy or carbon paper, and those sort of things. I was thinking of the reverse mode, and how astonished our children might be that we had no PINs and passwords when I was growing up in the 1950s to mid-1970s. We never had to figure out and remember a magical combination of letters, numbers and ‘special characters’ to get in and out of our online accounts. Number one, we didn’t have online accounts. We lacked the Internet and home computers. Now, there’s a PIN to learn to use a bathroom. Another PIN to access my voice mail. A different PIN to use my credit card, depending on the card reader, and to withdraw money.
I wonder, though, how many years it’ll be until the next generation is amused with our tales of PINs & Passwords and our explanations for how they were used.
I posted this morning about last night’s problem accessing and viewing streaming television via Prime on my Roku. Yes, and I uninstalled and re-installed, and researched.
‘lo, I came home and acted on a whim to see if Prime now worked.
Yep.
They — Roku, Prime, or others — fixed something last night. All that I did was probably for naught. If I had more patience, it probably would have resolved itself today. But I couldn’t resist trying to fix it.
In the Air Force, we used to refer to problems like these on our C130s as a Lockheed fix. That’s a problem that ‘seems’ to take care of itself. After, you know, we worry about it for a while.
Michael Seidel, writer 