“My name is Brenda,” I said, with a touch of happy humor.
My current coffee haunt is RoCo. The local Food Co-Op owns RoCo. Members of the co-op, we get a dividend back from the co-op at the year’s end. And guess what? All you need to do is give the RoCo barista your name and number. That’s what I was doing.
“Is Brenda your wife, Michael?” Kat asked.
“Yes.” I released a small scoff. “The funny thing is, she doesn’t go by Brenda. She uses a name that she made up a long time ago, so it always makes us laugh when we reveal our account name.”
Kat grinned through the entire tale. “I like that.”
It’s the small things which give us spirit, innit?
Oppressive humidity is doing in the morning. Not overly high humidity in the general sense. We’re just not used to humidity here.
It’s Frida, September 5, 2025. Temperature is 72 F but it feels warmer and less comfortable due to the humidity. We’ll peak in the low 90s today, unlike yesterday, when we clashed with 97 F.
My sister-in-law and her boyfriend arrived. Although they came in from Florida, they weren’t prepared for the heat. They’d been on the coast, then went inland to see the redwoods, and talked about the 30-degree temperature change they experienced in a short time and distance. The boyfriend, a year or two my senior, then asked as we walked around, “Can we go to somewhere with air-conditioning and sit down for a pint?” He’s an amiable individual. An engineer, we discovered that he and I grew up in Pittsburgh suburbs about four miles of each other. We’re both Steeler football fans. Besides three pints, he drank a tumbler of scotch during the space of dinner and the next two hours.
They’re sleeping in this morning after doing a lot of driving and traveling over the past three days. Once they call, we’ll take them somewhere local for food and then do local sightseeing.
I saw the jobs report this morning. Funny that firing the BLS person responsible for the last dismal jobs report didn’t change the dismal numbers. Just 22,000 jobs added. Oh, my. Not looking good for Trump’s economy. These hard numbers are backing up the anecdotes we’re hearing about business chains closing locations, small and medium businesses shuttering their doors, layoffs being announced. Lots of FAFO stories emerging. Of course, that could be the news services which I frequent catering to my interests and attitudes, at least to some degree. I try vesting such info as best as I can but that’s a challenge in this digital era.
Today’s music arrived from a confluence of events. One, Papi and I were out last night. I first was checking the moon, then looking for spaceships. Papi accompanied me. I’m not sure what he was checking out. Then, I dreamed that I was cooking. The meal was coming out looking good and smelled good. It was being done in this strange little apartment. But as I was cooking, several Russians stopped by. They were mostly talking to my wife but also addressing questions to me. This annoyed and distracted me.
The net of this, as I recalled last night and the dream, is that The Neurons rose up with a Jackson Browne song called “Lawyers in Love”. A satirical song about U.S. politics, consumerism, and U.S. pop culture, its lyrics feature both Russians and spaceships. I enjoy the song, but many friends thought it odd when it came out. Of course, that’s precisely why I enjoyed it.
I can’t keep up with what’s been going on I think my heart must just be slowing down Among the human beings in their designer jeans Am I the only one who hears the screams And the strangled cries of lawyers in love
God sends his spaceships to America, the beautiful They land at six o’clock and there we are, the dutiful Eating from TV trays, tuned in to Happy Days Waiting for World War III while Jesus slaves To the mating calls of lawyers in love
Last night I watched the news from Washington, the capitol The Russians escaped while we weren’t watching them, like Russians will Now we’ve got all this room, we’ve even got the moon And I hear the U.S.S.R. will be open soon As vacation land for lawyers in love
I find it humorous and love the musical flourishes which reflect different eras of pop music.
Time to rock and roll another day away. Hope that grace and peace finds and guides you. Have the best Frida possible. Cheers
We went out on a drive, purchasing a few needed items, dropping off recycled bottles and cans for the Soroptimists, paying bills. I was a little preoccupied with an article about Sears. Nationally, Sears once had 3500 stores and a thriving mail order business. Now, one Sears store remains in California, part of six nationwide.
Sears was a foundational brick for my childhood. Sears catalogues inspired dreams of Christmas gifts. We headed to the Sears on Business 22 to buy back to school clothes and winter coats. Need a tool? Go to Sears.
Now, like Montgomery Ward*, which employed my grandfather, Woolworth, Murphy’s, and K-Mart, it’s about to vanish from the shopping zones and soon from memories. I was thinking about all the places because we were driving by the Rite Aid in Ashland. It used to be a pretty good store, a familiar place to shop and find things we needed. Now it’s being disappearing, being replaced by a CVS, a store we don’t care for much.
The Sears Tower, Sears’ new corporate headquarters and the world’s tallest building at the time, opened in 1973. I wonder who thought it would be almost gone by 2025.
And then I think about Amazon.
*Yes, I know a second company named Montgomery Ward has been relaunched this century. Same name, different company,
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.”
Chilly. Rainy. Foggy. Those were yesterday’s descriptors. It didn’t get to anywhere near the theoretical high of 51 F around my zone of life.
Today is sunny. Windy. Warmer. 52 F. Clouds and blue sky mingle like it’s a company holiday party. The high will be 62 F.
Today is Sunda, April 27, 2025.
My wife and I are setting up for a trip to the coast. Our usual house sitter is available. Reservations have been made. We have worries. This will be Papi’s first time being alone. He knows the house sitter. Doesn’t run from her. Let’s her pet him. But with spring pointing toward summer, the wildlife has grown busier. Raccoons come by. Coyotes, bears, cougars are out there, along with opossums and skunks. Rats and mice. We’ll set things up as best as we can and cross our fingers.
Today’s music is “Bloody Well Right”. 1974 song. Supertramp. I was singing it to myself after different topics traversed the sticky gray zone this morning that I call thinking. Not much of it was of import. Just the usual forays into novel writing, fiction I’m reading, cat, family and personal matters, health, politics, news, government, dreams, and memories. I’ve been experiencing a wealth of dreams, for instance. What does it all mean? And I’ve set up a dental appointment for some overdue work. Then there’s house repairs. Call to Dad. Text to Mom. Mother’s Day card and gift. Flowers, candy, food, or…what? It’s all underlined by what is perceived as a time of drastic change in the country.
Coffee is singing its songs to my cells. Sunshine is shining. Plans are underfoot. So is the cat. Hope you have an awesomely solid day, devoid of crises and problems, and maybe with some good food. Here we go.
I worked on a jigsaw puzzle throughout December of 2024. I started it towards the month’s start but don’t recall the exact date. Finished it last night. Sorry the photo is miserable.
I knew it’d be a challenging one. The stones, flowers, boats, and the myriad of background pieces would make it so. But I loved the scene. Reminding me of a few places I’ve been to, it invited me in.
I followed the regular routine. Edges first. Then I divided the tiles between sky, sea, boats, background houses, blue door, dark green shutters, cafe, plaza stone, bicycle. The pieces were put into baggies. I’d pour out pieces for the focal point I was working on and do that area. I started with the plaza but it frustrated me with its shadows and interlocking browns, rusts, etc. As it didn’t come together, I pivoted to the blue door and then the bike.
One major encumbrance to working on the puzzle is that there wasn’t a good photo of the completed scene. The scene’s bottom was cut off on the puzzle box front, and the birds were almost completely covered. While four views were offered, the other three were tiny. I looked the puzzle up online to get a good sense of everything after the first two days.
Between this one and puzzles done with friends, I worked on four jigsaw puzzles in December.
It was worth doing, and satisfying to complete. It’s still a place I’d like to visit. Have a little light lunch and glass of wine or cup of coffee and read a book, intermittently chatting with my companion as the water does its thing in the background…
I’d been working. In the military, it seemed like from clues, but it was never clearly presented. Staying in some manner of mixed work, play, sleep compound. Very modern. Enormously wide hallways. Well lit.
I’d been going to and fro, doing work and receiving instructions, sometimes passing guidance along, when suddenly, I was asleep. Yep, asleep in my dream. And I couldn’t wake up. And I knew this. I new that I wanted and needed to wake up. But my head was heavy with exhaustion and my eyes felt glued shut.
Someone came by and spoke with me. Don’t know what they said. I replied, “I need to wake up but I can’t. I must get up.”
Somehow, I did manage to get up. “Water,” I told myself. “Drink some water. That will help.”
Feeling my way about, I came to a sink and turned on the water. Using my hand to catch water, I guzzled a bit.
It wasn’t working. “Put water on your face,” I told myself. “Splash your eyes.”
Right; yes. That worked enough that at last I could open my eyes. “Food and coffee will help,” I said to myself. “Go find some.”
Dream end. Early sunlight was petering in around the closed blinds. The dream felt so real that I went into the kitchen and drank a glass of water and then went to a mirror to see if my eyes were open. Very strange.
Tl/DR: It’s all about me. I’m a pretty self-centered peckerhead.
I’m still on Facebook. Yes, I know. It’s mostly to track friends who are now far away and keep up with family events. Those are both fading.
Got a friend request from a friend today. I’d met her on Red Room, where I used to post, and we continued our friendship on Green Room before I moved to WordPress.
Problem with the friend request was, we were already FB friends and she, a retired teacher, writer, and grandmother, died several years ago. I deleted the request.
Damn hacks.
WaPo headline: Swift charges against Georgia father mark a cultural shift on school shootings. Yes, but that’s not the cultural shift needed. I am pleased the father is being charged. I hope he is found accountable for his part in this tragedy. Unfortunately, the many politicians responsible for it will not be held accountable.
My wife and I had a conversation as we were running around doing errands on Thursday. I referenced the conversation. She looked blank. She remembered having it but not what it was about. I was also struggling to remember the details. A minute later, the details flooded back into my memory. I shared them with her and we went on. I would say that it was disturbing but this sort of thing has been going on for years. Memory is a tricky thing.
I have a foot issue. I’ve written about this before. My right ankle was sprained in May and again in June, rolling over each time. I eventually had an MRI and discovered a tendon was ruptured. I’ve been wearing various wraps and braces but they were dissatisfying. Something was needed, as the ankle felt unstable. I became incredibly mindful how it was placed and employed.
My wife talked me into getting a Bioskin TriLock brace. Been using it for three days. It’s providing needed stability and is reasonably comfortable. Putting it on properly does need practice and thought.
I’d noticed I was compensating for the injured foot. Other places were beginning to feel stressed and mis-aligned. These were just what was being noticed; imagine what was being damaged and stressed under the radar.
Seeing an ortho surgeon in a few weeks. We’ll see where it goes from there.
A hearty welcome to all the moonies joining us today. Welcome, welcome, to April 8, 2024, also known a Eclipse Day 2024 in the U.S. Here in Oregonia, this is currently projected as the last eclipse we’ll glimpse until 2044, so you know, we’ve dug out our eclipse glasses and gaze up at the sun as the moon made its way.
Weather wise, we have a decently clear sky, sunshine, and wind. Presently 58, it feels like 63 F and the high will be 68 in Ashlandia, where I reside alongside the deer, breweries, wineries, and bookstores. Lovely out there, really.
Just a sidenote, but our bookstore numbers have declined since I’ve moved here. Hey, but not my fault, so don’t read that into my statement. Outside the college’s bookstore, we’re down to *sigh* three.
Also declining is the school district’s enrollment. Enrollment has dropped by 300 students since 2017. A cutback of 23 staff and teachers is in place for the next school year. Reasons cited for the decline include the COVID-19 pandemic, and fewer families moving here because of the high cost of housing. Fewer students means the state is reducing the funds allotted the Ashland School District by over three million dollars next school year.
As you can imagine, today’s eclipse has me hearing music about the eclipse. The Neurons figured out something else. Viewing videos of people staring at the sun, The Neurons initiated “Planet Claire” by the B52’s in the morning mental music stream. The 1979 song has an out-of-this-world bongo-infused sound overlayed onto the “Peter Gunn” theme music. To me, it fully encapsulates the fascination people are expressing with this eclipse.
Whatever else is happening, the house floofs weren’t interested in the eclipses. They found good cozy spots and napped through it.
Stay positive, remain strong, continue leaning forward, and Vote Blue this November. Coffee has been enjoyed; more is on the way.
Here’s the sky-staring music. It’s a fun song. I know, it’s too late for the eclypso, but we were out on a Food and Friends run. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 