Mundaz Theme Music

Munda, January 5, 2026. Fog imposes a grey, wet-looking wall beyond the houses and trees across the street. 37 F is shown on the thermometer and forecasts call for rain and snow, with a ceiling of 38 F forecast. Looks like winter is finally taking an interest in Ashlandia.

I will note that a friend in Alaska was raving about her weather, displaying a thermometer that said it was -2 degrees F. That was the high. She insisted that she prefers it when it stays cold and frozen. According to her, the cycle of warming, melting, and re-freezing is much worse than a steady, consistent freeze. I’ll take her word on that.

My wife and I have been concerned about weather. Videos of king waves slashing the coast and heavy rains and flooding up north and down south worry us. People have been enduring so much foul weather. We’ve been spared but watching the situation, it feels like the storms were slowly pinching in around us. My conspiratorial mind, where I go to harvest ideas, whispers, maybe somebody is controlling the weather.

As we slink into 2026’s first Munda, we’re coping with news that another friend suddenly passed from cancer. More details aren’t yet known. Like Steve, who passed last year, this was another individual we saw at the lake with friends last summer. He seemed fine at the time and didn’t mention any health issues. Just another shock to the system in a cascade of shocks.

As I perused news and texted Mom and Dad’s widow about matters, I told myself to try to be more upbeat and optimistic this week. Weather and the general news tone levels a heavy burden, though.

Considering the weather, I find myself reflecting about Dad more. Born in the 1930s, Dad lived and worked in multiple states and every region. Dad was born in Pennsylvania. Mom was from Iowa, and he met her in either Minnesota or Nebraska.

After my parents married, they lived in Virginia, Texas, and California. He and I lived in West Virginia and Ohio. He was also stationed in the south and in New York and Indiana. Then he moved to Texas and met his third wife, and stayed in Texas.

A poker and pool fan, Dad enjoyed renting an RV and driving from San Antonio in Texas to Laughlin, Reno, and Las Vegas, Nevada. He also rented an RV to visit his other son in Utah. Then the RV was turned east and Dad visited his brother in Kentucky. The next leg was a drive to Georgia so Dad could visit his daughter and grand- and great-grandchildren.

Dad’s wife didn’t go with him. She’d fly to each place and return home! Oh, it’s all so funny to me, and remembering lifts my spirits.

While trying to adjust my mood today, The Neuron suggested a song called “Old Time Rock and Roll”. Bob Seger recorded and released it in 1978. Nothing particularly called me specifically from the lyrics. I appreciate the song’s beat and energy. It’s a good rhythm in the morning music mental stream to kickstart my energy. I’ll also drink some coffee, which will also help.

Hope your day is brighter and warmer than mine. May peace and grace lift your spirits and give us all a shot of optimism. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Our Ashland weather lands today as drying but wet, leaning toward being warm. This is Sunda, January 4, 2026. We usually expect some threat of snow during this season and month.

The outside does look wintry bleak. White clouds and bare branches bracket splashes of blue sky. Sunshine spills in with weak authority. But temperatures of upper forties to low fifties today, with a high in the fifties being mentioned, is less winter and more spring. Local talk about snow steers conversations toward the lack. Snow in the mountains give us the summer meltwater to keep our land hydrated.

We remind ourselves, look at history. This is Ashland, southern Oregon. Weather spins like a roulette wheel. Wherever it stops is a surprise and doesn’t surprise. Snow can still be on its way.

A new year vibe still reverberates in me, but I look on at what hasn’t changed. While weather is unpredictable, politics remain too predictable. So do family tensions. Mom and sis still butt heads, forcing small matters into huge blow ups.

After all of that, The Neurons playfully flipped “New Year’s Day” into the morning mental music stream. The U2 song from 1983 is written as a love song but a few lines stood out for The Neurons:

And so we’re told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage

Though I want to be with you, be with you night and day
Nothing changes New Year’s Day

Although nothing changes New Year’s Day, I remind myself, it’s not a nimble world. Emotions, relationships, and politics are forces which require time to shift. A calendar change alone doesn’t provide enough reason for change for many.

I am an optimistic person, though. I look for positive change and I’m ready to embrace it. Let’s hope peace and grace show up and pushes positive change through. Cheers

A Road Trip Dream

I was setting out on a trip with three friends. Only one — Ron, an older man — translates to a current real-life person. Ron was just as he is in real life. The others, also males, were known.

One interesting note that emerged and wove throughout were two others, both female. They sometimes joined the journey, and Ron and I discussed whether they would be with us. The two women, both brunettes, one in a red top with black pants and the other wearing a bright blue top, would only appear and not speak directly to me.

We were riding in Ron’s truck. This was beige and big, with a four-door cab and a luxurious tan leather interior. Though Ron was driving, he was in the backseat. I was alongside him. He’d put the car on autopilot, so it was essentially driving itself with him just monitoring what was going on.

I kicked back beside him on the back seat. Stretching my legs out, my foot ended up hitting the steering wheel. That put us off course. Because of the way I was reclined, it took several seconds of jostling to get my foot out of the way. During that time, we went off the road and onto the shoulder but didn’t slow. Ron finally steered us back on course and returned the truck to autopilot, but now he was worried and concerned the police would pull us over.

We arrived at our destination — a huge furniture store. I’d never been to it. The floor was hard dirt. All furniture was antique white. Despite the floor and the limited offering, the store was very busy. The women showed up briefly. The others spoke with them while I went out to another section of store.

The next store section was filled with tables and chrome appliances. The appliances turned out to be food and drink dispensers. Needing to use a restaurant, I did some bowel business but discovered the toilet didn’t have any way to flush. Removing my fecal material with a wad of paper towels, I looked for a way to dispose of it. I found one but they wanted me to pay money to flush it away. I refused, angry and disgusted that they’d monetized flushing away our body functions. I instead found a small white bag, put the materials in there, and set it on a table, telling myself, it would be someone else’s problem.

I then reconnected with my friends. I told Ron that when we went back, I wanted to sit in the front and stretch out and sleep. He looked at me with confusion but didn’t reply. The two women came by. One said she had to go off and find her children.

My friends and I went to another section. People there were seated, waiting to pay for their selections. I stopped before one man and did a giddy tap dance. The man, overweight and big with swarthy skin and a white cowboy hat, ordered, “Stop that.” Laughing, I kept dancing but moved to another section. Another man who I didn’t see said, “Stop that,” but I laughed and danced away.

My friends met up with me again. All were surprised that I was tap dancing and thought it strange. They wondered how I learned it. I replied, “I’ve always known how to tap dance. Nobody ever needed to teach me. I just knew. I just don’t do it much.”

Dream end.

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Winds are howling again, furiously shaking trees and bushes. It’s 46 degrees F with expectations that the temperature will branch into the low fifties. Rain struck hard last night at midnight. Bright blue skies now support the prowling sun and its sunlight cape. Stacked clouds lurk on the mountainous horizons. This is Satyrda, January 3, 2026.

As part of my daily morning routines, I answer several questions at Evidation. This includes how well I slept, my mood, and my stress levels. Although I slept well and my mood wants to be better, I feel stressed today.

I must turn first to news now, and politics. After the breaking news that the U.S. attacked Venezuela, that’s on the forefront of my worries. I’m disappointed but not surprised that Trump has chosen to start 2026 by escalating military activities. I’m angry but not surprised that Republican Congressional members are supporting this attack on another nation. We attacked them and kidnapped their president to bring him here, to the United States, to ‘stand trial’. Severe doubts that this will be a fair and just trial haunt me. In my mind, Trump is repeating mistakes of our past by pursuing violent regime change and destabilizing governments.

I’m not surprised. Not learning is a strong part of Trump and the GOP’s current operating position. They don’t want to learn about climate science and address change, pretend that tariffs are not a tax and that they’re not paid by U.S. consumers and won’t increase prices, and pretend that the medical science about vaccinations is not valid. They act like we as a nation haven’t been around for almost 250 years, dismissing alliances and lessons learned.

It is not accidental. The Heritage Foundation and other conservative have longed to drag us back into the 1800s. With a willing and eager Trump as their front man, they’re actively pursuing an agenda to do so.

In breaking news, Trump has announced “We are going to run the country until such time as we can do a safe, proper, and judicious transition.”

What a mess he’s created.

On the personal side, the women in my wife seemed to have gone to war. Mom and sis broke their fragile peace. Sis raged about Mom in texts to me, and Mom did the same. Mom insists that I not defend my sister, that Mom is grievously hurt, and Mom hates living in my sister’s home. At this point, I’ve stopped responding to texts, wearying of the ongoing arguments and drama.

Personally, I see it as a continuum: Mom’s aging and ongoing health challenges; stress, especially holiday-induced stress; their shared past and personality traits; and walking on frayed nerves. Each of the last three blowups have coincided with visitors and holiday moments. Mom can’t partake as she used to, and sis is acting as hostess, with her family visiting. Mom’s issues then distract sis and detract from the day’s spirit.

My wife is also raging and warring against several other people, frustrated by how things are going for her regarding different activities. That causes her to stress and vent, eat poorly, sleep poorly, and sours her mood. At least one event will be over in February but the fallout will probably take a few more months after that.

If 2026 is going to be a year of peace, it’s off to a wobbly start.

With this news, and those three women in mind, The Neurons’ song choice gave me a laugh. The cheeky monkeys chose “Take It Easy” by the Eagles for their morning mental music stream occupant.

Well, of course they did! The song’s beginning alludes to having “seven women on my mind”. A later line proclaims, “Well, I’m a-runnin’ down the road tryin to loosen my load, got a world of trouble on my mind.”

Imagery of those two lines perfectly describe the Venn diagram where my thoughts reside this morning, although not with seven women.

I fervently hope that peace and grace start making some rounds. I’d like to see peace and grace land hard on Donald Trump and the Heritage Foundation. Fingers crossed, peace and grace will also visit Mom, sis, and my wife. Likewise, may peace and grace visit you and your sore areas. Cheers

Dad

Reviewing life with Dad after he’s passed away.

Married while they were young, divorced while I was young, Mom seemed to give Dad a bum rap, something I didn’t appreciate until I was older and knew Mom and Dad better as adults.

Dad married three times. He sired seven children, two girls and five sons. Only two of his sons lived to adulthood.

One son tragically died in a car accident when he was just five years old. Dad was at his saddest and most silent then, and I was beside him at his son’s funeral.

I only lived with Dad twice: when I was very young until I was about five years old, and then again between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. I’d run away from home. Dad, in the Air Force and just returned to the U.S. from assignment in Germany, gave me a place to live. I was at his wedding with his second wife.

I’ve seen and visited him sporadically throughout the years. We talked on the phone more during the last few years, something that he actively pursued, trying to mend and improve our relationship.

Dad at 92, August of 2025.

Dad taught me to pee behind a bush. We lived in Arlington, Virginia in a rented house on a cul-de-sac at the top of a hill. Dad was in the Air Force; Mom was a telephone operator. Mom was working, and Dad, with the children, was locked out of the house. I announced that I needed to pee. Dad led me behind some bushes by the side of the house and told me to go. I was horrified but did it with his encouragement.

Mom came home just after I finished my business. I rushed out to her to inform her of my milestone. She was shocked and angry. Dad just laughed and laughed. He would’ve been in his mid-twenties.

I also give Dad credit for teaching me how to wrestle, how to catch and throw a ball, and how to ride a bike. He gave me his baseball gloves and bats when he came home on a visit and realized that I didn’t have either.

He also gave me his love of automobiles and encouraged me to think about problems and find my own solutions. Looking back, he was surprisingly patient and positive.

I don’t remember any Thanksgivings with Dad. We did share a few Christmases, and some July 4th celebrations. Most of those, though, were with Mom. He did take me on a fishing trip and gave me my first and only fishing rods.

Like many of us, Dad was a balance, a study in life, striving and trying, learning, and sometimes failing. But he always got back up and went on. I haven’t seen him much since he turned 85 seven years ago. I’ll miss him.

Twozdaz Theme Music

Twozda in Ashlandia finds us cold. Blue sky is in firm command. Sunlight washes over the valley.

It feels like something is broken or disconnected in the weather systems. The temperature is unfolding from 30 F. Alexa and online sources say we’ll get to 61 F today. I don’t know that they can be trusted. My systems and three other local systems all noted 29 to 31 degrees F temperature. At the same time, Alexa and online sites claimed our temperature was 40 F.

This is the same thing we went through several weeks ago; what we observed and felt locally is not what the national systems reported. Back in those weeks, we were steeped in cold fog while the national systems were trying to tell us it was sunny with some clouds. You can see why I’m not sure if we’ll get a high of 61 degrees.

No news has come from the Mom or Dad fronts. I had a long conversation with Dad’s wife yesterday. She related that after the fact, they conjecture Dad may have had a stroke, a-fib, or both. He had no idea how he ended up on the floor. Dad is doing very little talking or eating since that day. Only soft foods are permitted, such as eggs, apple sauce, and oatmeal. Swallowing those challenges him.

His wife says that he responds to voices. Though his eyes are closed, he’ll turn his head toward the speaker. She’s not sure if he recognizes her voice.

She also related that a few days before his fall, she discovered Dad had plotted to move away. He told her that he’d been on the phone with his other son and resolved the transportation issues and had identified all of his needs.

His son confirmed, yes, he and Dad were speaking about this almost every day. My brother was just going along with it to humor Dad; he certainly wasn’t going to help Dad move away. His part was just to indulge Dad because Dad was energetic and into the planning.

The revelations made me smile. I recognized Dad in that. He likes being in charge, making decisions, leading the way. He does not like having others take care of him. Making those plans were his way to stop from being a burden and getting back to being in charge.

Today’s theme music comes from a mental melange. Dreams, thinking, and headlines are all poured into this. Part of that thinking comes from Dad’s predicament.

Overviewing what was going on in my head, The Neurons placed “Wake Up Everybody” by Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes in the morning mental music stream. It’s a song I probably haven’t heard in years. It’s also possible I subconsciously heard it going on in the background somewhere.

I first learned of this song from my Black friends and co-workers. It wasn’t featured on the radio stations that I normally had on. Released in 1975, when I was a young airman in the U.S.A.F., I thought Teddy Pendergrass’s vocals put beautiful and heartfelt power to the words.

The opening lyrics were what I heard today but there was a little verse which I think about as I considered the world’s news and politics. Here they are.

Lyrics (h/t to AZLyrics.com)

Wake up, everybody, no more sleeping in bed
No more backward thinking, time for thinking ahead
The world has changed so very much from what it used to be
There’s so much hatred, war, and poverty, whoa, oh

The world won’t get no better
If we just let it be
The world won’t get no better
We gotta change it, yeah, just you and me

It’s quite the song of hope. It seems like we had more songs like this back in the last century. Moreover, we seemed to be moving toward them. No, it wasn’t straightforward, level progress but it did seem measurable. This century feels and appears very different to me.

Coffee has been served. My hope continues that peace and grace come by to give us all a lift. I know I would appreciate it.

Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

The weather is better. Better is relative. 44 F here in Ashlandia, with expectations of a 56 degrees F high. Sunshine and blue sky are lording over Munda, December 29, 2025. Papi is happy that the rain has stopped, the sun is out, and the fog slunk away. We have instead picked up a stagnant air advisory. Yet, it’s windy. Papi dislikes wind more than anything. Fortunately, he’s older now and less interested in running out to challenge the day.

No updates on Dad. Mom updates are about her upset stomach. She and sis continue adjusting to living together. Each will flare in anger and accuse the other of being mean. These episodes seem shorter and less intense. My fingers are crossed that their relationship and situation will improve as we move into 2026.

I feel for Dad’s wife and her family. Dad’s been with them for over thirty years. He’s been generous, supportive, and loving with them. Watching him decline must be so painful and debilitating for them.

With Mom and Dad’s health problems, I find myself reviewing my health. My energy is up and I seem, from the outside, to be doing well as I slink toward 70. I’ve lost weight, exercise more these days, and have more energy.

Primary concern, though, is the one I spent the most time with: my wife. She and I have been a couple for over fifty years. She’s been struggling with her strength and movement. She doesn’t go to physicians. She just consults solutions on the Internet. I won’t try to reduce her complicated view of herself, health, and the healthcare system into more manageable chunks of understanding. She would insist that I have it wrong anyway!

She’s working on a fifty-year celebration for a friend. The friend, MB, has been a Y instructor for fifty years. Her low-level aerobics, strength and dance class is enormously popular. The Y recognized that MB is popular and that this is a milestone, and asked my wife to organize the celebration. They asked her because she’s the class’s social engine. My wife accepted. She enjoys doing these things.

My wife doesn’t handle stress or anxiety well, though. When either of those increase for her, her health takes a hit. Her eating and digestion goes; she grows stiffer, with less movement. Her stiffness and vulnerability to being physically cold increases.

Yes, she is always cold. She likes keeping our snug — the office — around 80 degrees. My hope is that she’ll get through this February celebration and get stronger and healthier. Meanwhile, my role is to be as supportive as I can.

The Neurons have decided that today’s song is “The Waiting”. The 1981 song is written and performed by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. From Petty’s point of view, the waiting was about the time before going on to perform. Observing me thinking about Dad, Mom, and my wife, The Neurons decided it would be a grand song for the morning mental music stream.

Chorus

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part.

Yes, Tom, the waiting often seems like the hardest part.

I have my coffee to comfort me while I wait. Hope peace and grace comes by with a cuddle for all of us. Cheers

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Greetings on Satyrda, December 27, 2025. They said it’d be cold and we’d have snow. No snow but it was 38 degrees F, sort of cold. Sunshine is leaking in around clouds stretching a flimsy chain across blue sky. A high somewhere in the 40s is anticipated.

My stepmother texted last night. Dad has taken a bad turn. He was found on the floor, communicative and awake but confused. That was Wednesday. His wife is talking to professionals about whether Dad should go into hospice. She is due to receive an update and then will text me to call her so I can learn the latest.

I sent Mom and Dad holiday cards and letters. My sister read Mom her card and letter from me; my stepmother read Dad his card and letter from me. Neither Mom nor Dad could open their cards on their own. Dad lives in Texas and Mom lives in Pennsylvania. The parallel path of their decline fascinates and depresses me.

Dad has been married to my stepmother for over thirty years. It’s his third marriage. As Dad’s health has declined, my stepmother’s children visit him and care for him, just as my sisters visited Mom’s boyfriend, Frank, and cared for him before he died. Life’s complexities and layers are rich and interesting.

Sis wrote that she hosted Christmas celebrations on Thursday and Friday. Half the family came on one day and the other half came the next door. She said that worked out much better than having the whole tribe there at the same time.

With dreams of homes and families and news of family percolating, it’s not surprising that The Neurons chose a song about houses for the morning mental music stream. Today, it’s “Our House” by Madness.

As I wrote this post, my wife told me of some factoids she just read. Back in 1950, the average starter home in the U.S. was less than 1,000 square feet with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. Now the average starter home is considered 2500 square feet with walk in everything and vaulted ceilings and fireplaces, kitchen, dining room, and breakfast nook. And fewer people seem able to afford starter homes in 2025.

Then I went off to dress to go out to write. My wife and I talked about it, how, while waiting to call my stepmother for an update, I was planning to go write. I shrugged. “The beat goes on.” And that’s why we have a twofer theme music offering for today. The Neurons immediately supplanted “Our House” with Sonny and Cher singing “The Beat Goes On”.

Hope peace and grace come by to present you some comfort. I’m off to the writing races once again. Cheers

The House Dream

Been a while since I’ve dreamed about houses. Such dreams are always in conjunction with family.

I was visiting my wife’s family house. It no longer exists, as it was torn down after her mother was moved to assisted living. That was a sad thing in itself, to have a dwelling lived in for almost fifty years broken down and hauled away. She died about seven years ago.

In this dream, I knew it was her parents’ house even though it wasn’t like the real place. My wife and I were both young and visiting. Two women I didn’t know were there but nobody else.

The four of us were bored. I opened a drawer and found a deck of cards. We decided to play ‘King on the corner’. After we drew our cards, the person with the highest card would go first. I announced I had the king of diamonds. Someone else announced they had the king of spades. I then saw that I also had the ace of diamonds. Everyone agreed I should go first.

I took my turn, drawing a card. Play progressed and I realized that I’d screwed up because I hadn’t put down my cards. Someone put a king on the corner. I saw it was a king of diamonds. That couldn’t be because I had that card, which I pointed out. We realized that we had more than one deck. Upset with that, we abandoned the card playing.

Then we were just talking when the phone rang. I thought it could be my father-in-law calling. He’d passed away back in December of 1991.

It was him on the phone. He said, “Tell them I’m on my way home.”

I asked, “When do you think you’ll be here?”

But the line was dead. I told the others what had happened. They responded, “We need to clean up.” They jumped up and left the room to go down the hall.

I followed them. The rest of the house wasn’t anything like her parents’ house and I said so. Then we came to a part of it where there were two businesses on the right-hand side. That blew me away. Businesses in the house? That made no sense.

I gathered the businesses were an ice cream stand and a coffee and sandwich shop. Young women were at serving windows in both. I didn’t know either. My wife spoke to one. She revealed we’d gone to school with them. I didn’t remember her, but she claimed she remembered me.

The others had gone off. I walked around on my own and discovered my mother-in-law’s room. I went in and knew it but also knew it was different. My wife called out, “Mom’s here.” I eagerly went to greet her.

Instead of my MIL, another man entered, arms out with a large smile. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Although I didn’t recognize him, I said, “Good to see you, too.”

We hugged. Then he said, “I notice you looking at my feet.”

I’d not noticed his feet, but he continued, “They’re new, but they screwed them up.”

I looked at his feet. They were sticking straight out to the sides. I also noticed puddles of pee on the floor and realized that he’d peed himself.

He said, “Can you tell me where the bathroom is? I need to take a dump.”

I pointed him in the right direction and rushed off.

I joined up with my wife, her older sister, and my neice. We continued to the house’s front. It was wildly different than before. The front porch, driveway, big oak tree, and flowering rhododendrons were gone. It was now more like a Monet painting. Amazed and staring, I said, “This is completely different. When did this happen?”

Oh, a long time ago, the others replied, dismissing it. They went out of the house to a little shop, flooring me that a little shop was there and that they were aware of it. This place was where the long driveway used to be, and sold purses and jewelry. My wife and the others knew the owner and went in and talked to them and looked around.

I went off to explore the new place. As I did, a long, gleaming gold car with bright chrome wheels arrive. I thought, that can’t be my father-in-law.

It wasn’t. It was some stranger who parked and walked away in a different direction. Beyond the parked car was a raging muddy river. I picked my way across it to see what was on the other side. A scarlet rooster began following me around. As I went to go back, the rooster jumped on my lower leg and hung on.

It was starting to get dark. I kicked the rooster off my leg and heard it land in the water but couldn’t see it because it had become so dark. Now I worried that I wouldn’t be able to cross because of the light. Hearing splashing, I realized the rooster had made it safely back, which relieved me.

The darkness suddenly lifted enough that I could see where I was. I hurried back across the river.

End.

Mundaz Theme Music

34 F today in Ashlandia as winter takes over. My sister told me she likes it when it gets that warm in winter. LOL. It’s Munda, December 22, 2025. Cloudy but they’re light, torn cloud shards. No rain is expected. Fog might crown some parts of town, according to reports, but it’s clear outside my windows. Today’s high might stretch to 50 F.

Our solstice dinner went well, thanks. We picked up frozen garlic Naan to go with our chosen soups. My wife went with cream of mushroom, which she declared with a mild shrug, “It’s okay.” I had a spicy and satisfying vegan chili. Naan went well with it. We complemented the meal with raw carrots, celery, and radishes.

Mom texted me that she’s very busy trying to get cards out to all her great- and grandchildren but she also had an upset stomach. There’s been no talk of war between her and sis, knock wood. Sis’s grandson turned seven so there was a party where the theme was six and seven. The children apparently found that hysterically funny.

My grandnephew prepares to blow out the candle on his birthday cupcake during a bowling party.

I was speaking with a friend I ran into yesterday. Quickly talking about politics, he mentioned how the Trump Regime was causing so much pain to several family members in different areas of the nation. One of them was a MAGA sister who is shocked by her premium increases. I think he said she lives in Arizona but don’t hold me to that. A nephew he mentioned is a liberal and a farmer who was really bleak about next year. I mentioned in response that Trump is the King of pain. That inspired The Neurons to project “King of Pain” by The Police in the afternoon mental music stream. It carried over to the morning mental music stream.

We’re off to do the Food & Friends deliveries. Swish some coffee down my throat first. If peace and grace show up here, I’ll give them a drink and tell them to go see you, yeah? Here we go. Cheers

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