Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: bouncy

Tuesday has been plated and is ready for serving. It’s August 15, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the ground is dry and the rivers are low. It’s currently 79 degrees F, but the thermometer’s final destination is 102 F for today. The indicators on my weather station hit 108 F yesterday afternoon but it looks like the official top was 105 F. The heat stayed until close to midnight, when it finally dropped into the mid 80s. Yes, air conditioning’s influence was sought when the house’s interior popped over 85 F in the evening.

I watched lightening shyly flickering and dancing on our southern border with California. This was just after midnight. Come 6:20, I thought, it feels like it’s going to rain. I imagined that as some slight barometric pressure changes felt, along with a tilt to the smell, coupled with experience of like times from beforedays. Over an hour later, 7:33, the drumroll began. Never got heavy nor fast, and lingered but five minutes, but the petrichor and sound were a welcome morning interlude in wet. Thunder accented a few seconds and brought Papi, the ginger wonder, to my side, as he is a firm disliker of thunder, but that ended before the rain. Now comes fire watch to see if any new fires have been discovered in the dry mountain forests.

Can’t say it’s a blue sky today. Conniving smoke and clouds are keeping that title at bay. But the sun and high pressure system are determined to keep it hot. This will last until Thursday, we’re told.

The Neurons have locked “Wasted” by The Runaways (1977) in the morning mental music stream. I haven’t been able to trace the impetus for this song. Don’t think I have heard it in decades. I remember being with a friend while in the US in the mid 80s. This song came on. A younger guy, he asked, “Who is it?” The Runaways, I answered. “Never heard of them,” he replied. “They kind of sound like Joan Jett.” That’s ’cause Joan Jett was The Runaways’ lead vocalist on that song. He was like, oh.

Time for liftoff. Stay pos, be strong, and look ’em in the eye. Coffee service has commenced. Make it black and pure for me. Here we go. Let’s start with the video. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Sunshine, glorious sunshine. It’s going in and out. That’s how I define it from my kitchen perch. Can’t see the actual sky but I suspect the sun is constant but the clouds are moving about.

Still in Pittsburgh, PA, due to Mom’s medical emergency. She’s doing better, thanks, but remains hospitalized with multiple issues. At least she’s talking and eating, and showing strong streaks of her usual personality. My sisters and Mom’s partner provide the most guidance and support. I’m just here to do what I can when I can. Oldest sister also came in but leaves tomorrow AM.

This visit refreshes how much I enjoy the PIT area. Trees put off blinding green. No smoke although there is pollution. Humidity feels mad high, toying my hair into lofty frizziness. Makes me laugh. Great fun visiting with sisters and their families yesterday, eating pizza, drinking beer, watching the crazy Steelers-Bengals game and eventual, surprising Steeler victory. You should have heard that house as each major event occurred. Even though traffic is traffic, it has a structure to its chaos that’s familiar.

Back home in southern Oregon, the news tells me more wildfires are burning. The air is bad, but the temperature has dropped. Here, it’s 73 F with a forecast high of 76 and scattered rain showers. The sun brought its show online at 6:58 AM and will go offline at 7:34 PM. The high here is still ten degrees less than what Ashland will see.

For some reason, The Neurons have fixed Joan Jett and the Blackhearts in my morning mental music stream and their cover, “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll”, circa ’81-82. A covert connection seems to exist with me visiting here before leaving for Okinawa. I’m just guessing. The Neurons will not say.

Still on my first cup of coffee and coming alive again. Stay positive, test negative, etc. Finish this coffee, go see Mom in the hospital. Stay chill, peeps. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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