Tag: life

This Is Life

An email was forwarded to us by friends who live about two miles away. We’re toward Ashlandia’s southern perimeter, and they’re above the library downtown. It’s a small town.

Good morning HOA – I wanted to reach out and let you all know that the past 2 nights we have had a cougar in the neighborhood. Last night, it unfortunately killed our older cat. We also found a dead raccoon in our yard so I would urge you all to keep any pets inside at night if possible. The cougar seems to be especially active around dusk – It was hunting earlier in the evening yesterday just after 6pm and we had let our cat out without thinking it would be active so early.

It looks to be injured and we have seen it limping. It did not run away when we tried to shoo it away so be aware that if you are near it, it may not run away and may be more aggressive because it is injured and can’t run away easily.

We’re rural, not deeply populated or industrialized. Cougars and bears live in the area along with foxes and coyotes, raccoons, deer, etc. Of course, the cougars and bears are rarer that most of the others, wilder, and carnivores, so they get a sketch more attention than other critters. That it has killed someone’s pet makes me wince for the animal and its owner. Grudgingly I accept, this is part of life, and then my thoughts churn with worry about my own little housefloofs and how much they enjoy going outside.

We may need to revisit that policy.

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The Writing Moment

I had a strong and productive writing session yesterday. But being so involved, my sense of time evaporated. I found myself leaving the coffee shop an hour later than usual.

I couldn’t go directly home, but had to go buy light bulbs. Finishing with that errand, I jumped into the car to head home. By now, I was an hour and a half later than usual.

My phone rang. It was my wife. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Where are you?” she answered. “You’re much later than your usual time. I’m calling to see if you’re dead or unconscious in a hospital.”

“You called to see if I was dead or unconscious?” I laughed.

She did not.

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

One of the baristas seemed angry with him. He didn’t know why, but she appeared to act colder toward him, like he’d offended her. Searching his memories, he didn’t find a triggering episode. It could be other things, he told himself, like he’d imagined her being nicer and friendlier before, or he was imagining now that she was angry with him. Or, she might be upset with something happening in her life, and he’s just reading her interaction with him and misinterpreting it.

Really, though, while all of those were logically possible, it felt to him like she was angry with him, and that bothered him.

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The Writing Moment

One important matter that many new writers overlook is, what does their muse want?

The muse can fill a critical function in the fiction writin’ process, so identifying them and learning what they like — and DISLIKE — can be a significant component of your personal process. Sometimes, as it is for me, it’s more than one muse, so the aspiring writer must pay attention to who the muses are and what they do. Fer ‘nstance, my muses love coffee. Don’t try to pawn tea or chai off on ‘em; they’ll inform you with seething disgust that they’re not the same. However, some of the muses are more impatient and arrogant than the others. Some of them read someone else’s fiction and immediately scream into my ear, “Write something like that!” I’m always coping with them doing that. The way I do so, with more patience and caution that touching a sleeping cat’s belly, is to gently promise I will write something like that after I finish this (whatever this is) and hope they accept and quiet down.

BTW, don’t try to overlook the grammar and punctuation muses. They can be wrong but they will push and push for a decision about a comma, period, tense, noun, verb, and so on, until they’re satisfied (at least for the moment).

My muses are not fond of writing at home, cuz cats, spouse, phone – well, environmental distractions. (Yeah, we still have a home phone, althought it’s VOIP.) My muses like it in a noisy coffee shop where nobody pays attention to them and they can write in peace surrounded by people bustling around on their business. As I have multiple muses (sometimes called musi in the more traditional plural spelling) (yeah, just kiddin’ ‘bout that), I need to ensure the right one shows up on time. Little is worse for me than entering a revision session only to have a ‘new project’ muse enter to help, suggesting the concept for a new novel, novella, short story, movie, song, play, or essay.

Last, my musi demand time and focus on them everyday. If they don’t get it, they spoon crankiness, exasperation, and irritation into my mood. So, every day, no matter what’s happenin’, they want me to sit and write or edit. They don’t care if zombies are overrunning the neighborhood, a blizzard is underway, or nukes are falling. Nor is being hungry, sick, or social engagements a concern for ’em. They want their writing or editing time. And don’t think that research is good enough for the muse. I’ve tried mollifying them with research; my muses don’t buy it and will sometimes go off and sulk, leaving me without a muse to write. I can do it, but it’s a bit like having problems with a bowel movement.

Now, back to writing. So sayeth the muse what’s in charge.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Hapup (happy and upbeat)

Saturday, January 13, 2024, has arrived with higher temperatures and heavy, wind-driven rain whipping Ashlandia (where the coffee is excellent and the parks are above average). It’s 42 F now, not far from the expected peak of 49 F. Rain has been falling all night, and the misty low, fat clouds look like they have a lot more to give.

The cats both wanted out this morning after their breakfast. Tucker settled in a dry but cold location on the front porch while Papi sought whatever drives him to wander. I managed to coax both back in after thirty minutes. When they came in, both dashed for me and I discovered Papi was soaked. I toweled him off (despite his protests and efforts to flee) and then Papi headed for the kibble station while Tucker went to the litter box.

Left home early, didn’t take the dog (don’t have one) or the cats (I have two). Coffee shop numero uno was at full cap so I went to numero dos. A prime writing location was available so I sat and began. Unfortunately, I discovered that a leak was exploring the ceiling above and splashing down. I alerted the staff and shifted sites. No good writing location was available but I found a table and set up camp. A young guy at my most preferred site. Understanding that I was on a laptop and could use an outlet, he approached and offered it to me. Such kindness. I offered to buy him something as reward but he declined.

One amusing thing was observed. I saw one barista drift through, washing off the unused tables and tidying. About four minutes after she went through, a second one went through, doing the same thing to the same tables.

Very satisfying and uplifting dreams were experienced last night. Hope everyone has such dreams in their life. Thinking about it had The Neurons plug “What Is Life” by George Harrison (1971) intorock the morning mental music stream (Trademark drifting). I get what The Neurons are doing there, because I’d been musing about life since a conversation with a friend about death the other day. Her husband worries about death and fears it. I related back that I didn’t worry about it because we don’t know if there is an ‘other side’ or the full nature of ourselves and our existence. I mean, between religion, science, and philosophy, we’ve developed some great ideas and insights about what it is. But knowledge is ever-evolving, and as we explore the quantum side of being more, we might surprise ourselves with what we learn. “I think, therefore I am,” might even apply to us after we die along paths that we can’t yet divine.

Stay pos, lean forward, remain strong, and test negative. Coffee and its bennies are already perking through my systems. Here is thy theme music. Cheers

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Three Wolves Dream

I was at a family gathering. Big family, large spread of food, all set up on a large piece of empty land. The celebration was taking place under a sprawling wooded pavilion. Painted brown, it was loaded with grills and picnic tables, and all were in use. Music was playing, and people were talking, laughing, and dancing.

This wasn’t my family, though, at least not my real-life family, or a family I know from this time and place. But they were my dream family.

Anyway, food had been consumed. Having eaten and feeling full, I was just out strolling on my own on a field adjacent to the pavilion. Mostly level, covered with gold tinged green grasses, the field rose in a lengthy and leisurely uneven slope to a sun bathed crest. I was out several hundred yards from the pavilion when I saw three critters come over the crest and pause, looking around. In those seconds, I realized they were wolves.

I thought about heading back to the pavilion but saw I was now closer to the wolves than the pavilion. The wolves headed down the slope, pausing to sniff and look around on their journey. I began a slow and careful walk back toward the pavilion. The wolves hadn’t noticed me and I wanted to keep it that way.

But their progress was faster. Breaking into an easy lope, they’d put themselves between me and the pavilion. No one in the pavilion seemed aware of them. I didn’t think the wolves would come after me but deciding to be ready, I found a pile of black rocks. I picked up one to throw and discovered that I could break the rock up into smaller pieces. I did that until I had a pile of hand-sized missiles by my foot.

The wolves were about seventy feet away. They still weren’t looking at me. I had a rock in each hand, ready to throw with my right arm and then reload.

Then – presto – the wolves are large German Shepherds. I keep the rocks because German Shepherds can also attack but watching the dogs gambol, tails wagging, I’m less worried. On some signal invisible to me the three dogs turn and head back up the hill. I was never noticed or threatened. Dropping the rocks, I watch them go. As they’re halfway up the hill, they seem to change again, and were wolves. That left me wondering, were they wolves or dogs?

Dream end.

There are so many elements of my life in there about isolation, separation, and fears that seem to be there, but never materialize into threats. Yet, I always prepare for them.

That’s life.

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Snowday’s Theme Music

Mood: snowy

Today is Saturday, January 6, 2024. I will be thinking about Jan 6, 2021, and not fondly, along with all that’s happened since. Not posting about that man and that day here today.

Snow has joined us in Ashlandia, where the roads are white but need some repairs. I was able to sit down with Snow and chat with her a little today.

“Hi Snow, welcome back to Ashlandia.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has, it’s good to be back.”

“Can I ask you your plans? Are you going to stay in the area for a while, or?”

“Well, I can’t say. It’s all changed. Big money controls us now. Summer and I were just discussing this with Winter the other day. They’re moving us all over the place. The schedule is hectic and crazy. We never know where we’re going to be next.”

“Well, how ’bout the immediate future? Will you stay here for the day?”

Snow slide a dark smile at me. “Honey, I honestly can’t say. The money controls the weather, and I’m subject to their whims.”

“Well, good luck to you, Snow. Thanks for coming in.”

“Oh, no, save your luck. You’re the one who’s going to need it.”

Yes, we awoke to 2024’s first snow in Ashlandia. I spotted it first at cat o’clock, when I released Papi into the silent night. Fat, slushy snow globs were falling straight down but nothing was on the ground. When I brought him back in about an hour later, snow was covering the yard and pellet like flakes were spitting from the sky. Breakfast saw traditional lazy, feathery flakes gracefully drifting down to the land. We now had an inch. Post-eating, the snow was fat but earnest pellets gliding in at an angle, adding to the accumulation.

It’s 32 F right now. 39 F will be the day’s high.

Thinking about how long it’s been since snow visited Ashlandia, The Neurons dialed up a popular staple called “It’s Been A Long, Long Time”. Many of a certain age know it as soon as those first words are sung, “Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time.” Per Wikipedia, released in 1945, the song gained popularity when covered by Harry James and His Orchestra, with Kitty Kallen singing in her lovely voice. Mom listened to her a great deal and was a great admirer, so I heard her sing this song often. Many artists have covered it but I have the Louis Armstrong version coursing through the morning mental music stream (Trademark dusty) because I always enjoyed his style.

The snow has stopped falling and has melted off the cement and asphalt. It’s still 32 F.

Stay pos, be safe, smart, and strong, and lean forward. Coffee is making its way into my mouth and through my body. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Coffee Powr

I’m a retired military veteran and over sixty-five years old. That combo means my health insurance is through a hybrid product that requires me to sign up for Medicare A & B when I turned 65. Mediacare provides primary coverage to me and my wife; TriCare for Life (TFL, officially known on the web as TriCare4Life) gives us secondary coverage. It’s not a bad deal. It isn’t free; my wife and I both pay for Part B.

What made my coffee taste more bitter than usual was a bill from my provider received this month. They said I owed them over a hundred dollars for lab work and that TFL hadn’t paid anything. Egged on by my other, that sent me into a tizzy of indignation. A website I found said, yep, TFL doesn’t pay for preventive lab work. This made no friggin’ sense and only urged me to greater outrage.

I logged into the various systems this week to find answers. Not finding satisfaction there, I was forced to *gag* call them and speak to people. I have nothing against people or talking but I dislike phones and bureaucracies. Girding myself with a mug of stout dark goodness, I called T4L. After providing evidence of who I am and waiting a few minutes, I was connected to Derek.

I explained it all to him and proved who I am to him. Derek began ferreting through the systems for more about my grievance. I logged into my provider portal and dug out more details. Shame on me, but only then did I realize that this bill was for services from May of 2022. That just seemed wild that I’m dealing with that over eighteen months later.

Derek looked into it and discovered that T4L didn’t pay it because Asante, who did the work, didn’t send an EOB for the Medicare part that was paid. “Have more coffee and call the provider,” Derek advised.

Thanking him for his assistance and wishing him a good day and Merry New Year, I did so. After providing evidence about who I am and a short wait, Karen heard my tale. “Interesting,” she said. “We show that T4L denied the claim.”

What?

She went on to tell me it’d been rejected three times and that’s why they were now billing me. “Let me contact the insurance section and confirm they sent the needed EOB,” she went on. “I’m going to email them now.” She typed away while I listened to keyboard clickety-clack. “There,” she said. “Now we’ll see what happens. Your bill is due next week but ignore that. If you get another bill or notice asking for payment, give us a call to check on the status, okay?”

Sure. I thanked Karen, wished her good day and Happy New Year, hung up and wrote up my notes. Now I wait, but I feel optimistic about the outcome. The whole thing only took one hour.

I couldn’t have done it without coffee, though.

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A Dino Ferrari Dream

Young, probably in my twenties in this dream, I was outside with my wife and some friends. Sunshine bathed us in what felt like a warm, beautiful day.

An unknown and unseen man was telling me that he had a car for me. Excitement growing, I laughed and joked about what kind of car this guy was giving me when I looked across the way and saw the front end and passenger compartment of a red Dino Ferrari 246 GTS.

Gasping, I asked, “Is that the car?”

See, the Dino 246 (pictured in photos) was released in 1969. I was thirteen and had discovered sports car and Formula 1 racing. When the car came out, I found it stunning. Even better, a few years later, the 246 GTS was released. This was a targa version of the same car. I’m embarrassed to admit how much I studied and drooled over photos of this car. Eventually, a plastic model was purchased and put together, and the model found space on my bedroom shelves.

But the unseen man said, “No, that’s not it.”

Disappointment staggered me. Then he indicated a black 246 GTS sitting elsewhere. “That’s your car.”

Ecstasy fluttered through me as I goggled at the gleaming black gem of machinery. The man was explaining, “It’s not a 246, but an Evo.” Even as he spoke, I saw the flares that marked the Evo. Evos privately reworked Dinos with upgraded engines and mechanical gear, and not a targa, but a fixed top.

I couldn’t believe that this beautiful car was to be mine. I asked about it a dozen different ways and the man repeatedly assured me, “That’s your car.” Most of the rest of the dream was spent riding around in the car with my wife, showing it off to people and explaining what it was.

But then came a moment when I’d parked the car and found a man with a petrol hose in his hand standing by it. Going to him, I questioned him and discovered that he planned to dose the car with gasoline and set it on fire. I firmly told him, “You are not setting my car on fire.” My voice and words were enough to send him hustling and stumbling away. I then had to explain to others who came up what had transpired as the man with the hose watched from a distance. Seeing him watching, I thought, I’m taking my car and leaving.

Dream end.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: energetic

Today is Thursday, December 14, 2023, but when I walked outside with the cats this morning, it felt like we’d leaped forward into spring outside. Nothing was in bloom but the air carried spring’s sass with sunshine, a blue-ish sky featuring a bevy of small white and gray clouds that looked like turtles reflecting dawn’s light, and 46 F. Then I sneezed several times like allergies had kicked in.

Celebrated a friend’s seventieth last night with her and other friends. Now retired, she’s a world-renown forensics expert in hair and fur. Egged on by two former work colleagues present, themselves forensics experts, she shared interesting tales with us. Entertaining time was had by all.

I have an unusual song circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). For reasons which they won’t reveal, “Walk Right In” is playing in my head. This is the 1963 cover by The Rooftop Singers. I had to wiki that. The song was written by Gus Cannon in and recorded by Gus Cannon’s Jug Stompers, a man and group I didn’t know of until I read it today. Mom used to play the song on her record player and sing along. The words are simple:

Walk right in, sit right down
Daddy, let your mind roll on
Walk right in, sit right down
Daddy, let your mind roll on
Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout a new way of walkin’
Do you want to lose your mind?
Walk right in, sit right down
Daddy, let your mind roll on

Walk right in, sit right down
Baby, let your hair hang down
Walk right in, sit right down
Baby, let your hair hang down
Everybody’s talkin’ ’bout a new way of walkin’
Do you want to lose your mind?
Walk right in, sit right down
Baby, let your hair hang down

h/t to Songfacts.com

All my life, though, I wondered, what is the new way of walkin’? I remembered asking Mom and hearing laughter in response, which just vexed the hell out of me. I guess some things will always be a mystery.

I know that Dr Hook covered it later but it’s The Rooftop Singers delivering to the mmms, so I stayed with them.

Stay strong, be positive, lean forward, and enjoy the video. Coffee is in me and driving me to get up and go. Once I’m done in the bathroom, I’m out the door to the writing day. Here’s the music. You have a good one. Cheers

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