Tag: Mom

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, May 26, 2026.

We’re mired in a gloomy late spring day. Dull sunshine seeps down through swollen rain clouds. 48 F now; 60 F later.

Despite this cool temperature and rain clouds, the drought is already browning the valley. A wildfire was fought and put out not too far away. The air this morning smells like the remains of a sodden bonfire.

Many of my Pittsburgh family members gathered at the youngest’s house for a BBQ. They also played Kornhole and shared social media photos of the gathering. All my sisters were there with their partners. Most of their children and grands, and their children’s partners. Some were missing, as there was a baseball tournament where they were playing. And other than my sister, the Georgia contingent was absent. Of course, Mom and Frank weren’t there in a long line of firsts we’ll encounter this year.

In Trump Iran War news, the US broke the ceasefire. That was okay, though, because it was the United States, which, under Trump, doesn’t follow the rules and norms. That generally leads to anger, reprisal, uncertainty, and confusion. We’ll see how it goes this time.

The Trump administration labeled these ‘self-defense’ strikes. Funny how self-defense is ‘needed’ when there’s a ceasefire on, and the war is over or almost over, and the US won, which are all things which Trump claimed.

The war is now into it 87th day.

The full Epstein files have not been released.

Prices are rising.

The Epstein ballroom funding is short of its need.

The Trump tariffs ruled illegal by the Roberts Court are being refunded to businesses. Consumers beginning to sue businesses to get their share of the tariff refunds.

I’m reading the novel, “James”, by Percival Everestt. James had a wonderful line:

“Religion is just a controlling tool they employ and adhere to when convenient.”

That summarizes my attitude toward not just religion, but how patriotism is invoked in the US — especially by Trump — and also how I see the Constitution now often being employed.

Of course, ‘they’ do it with team and family, as well: “We’re one team!” “We’re a family!”

True when it’s useful to be true.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Today’s music comes from a glance in the bathroom mirror. I laughed at my reflection. I look less like Mom or Dad than I used to, I thought, and sort of reflected on that. (No, I am not sorry for that phrase!)

Seeing an open door, The Neurons came in with “Mirror in the Bathroom” by English Beat in the morning mental music stream. It’s such a classic 1980s sound for me. Brings flashbacks and smiles.

Lyrics:

Mirror in the bathroom, please talk free
The door is locked, just you and me

I hope for the best for you, your family, home, and region. Stay strong.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — Monday, May 25, 2026.

Sunny, cloudy, dry. 60 F with 81 potentially the high. Rain is expected. The sky has that look, and the air has that skin.

It’s Memorial Day in the US, as specified by Congress in the 1968 Uniform Monday Holiday Act as one of the Monday holidays. The act was about creating three-day weekends for Federal employees. I recall as a youth hearing about it being promoted. They said at that time that it was for productivity; the Monday holidays would interfere less with business and the work week, and would be could for the economy because people could take mini-vacations during the three-day weekends.

My wife’s family knew it as Decoration Day. They always observed it by going to the family cemetery and cleaning up the grave markers and cemetery and decorating them with flowers.

My family always celebrated it by having cook-outs. Others call this a ‘barbeque’ or ‘barbecue’, or even grilling out. It was a day of eating, fun and games for us. For a few years, this meant going out to Keystone Lake. We’d pile into the car before 8 AM so we could beat the traffic, get good parking, and have a good picnic spot. Then full and exhausted, we’d head for home before one. Which was okay because we often had rain showers in the afternoon.

Back home, we’d have watermelon and leftovers. Mom made terrific potato salad, and fried chicken. We’d also have apple pie, chips, cookies, burgers, and hot dogs.

Now it’s just another Monday for me, another pause to look back on what was and what would never be.

I read about the rains and floods striking the eastern and southern states. Good luck and safe harbor to all of them, and the animals.

Also read that Trump is going to the hospital for some checks and dental work tomorrow. Is it part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! to distract us from the war in Iran, high gas, food, and energy prices, grift, corruption, and Epstein ballroom?

It could be a ploy to gain sympathy after the latest White House shooting didn’t move the needle on Trump’s declining approval ratings.

Or, Trump could really be ill. He looks and acts the part.

This may be all three — a diabolically clever ‘weave’ by the self-professed genius to confuse us about what’s going on. The biggest problem with his weave is that he often entangles himself. Reality, lies, and fantasy fuse into a glaze of uncertainty, changing directions, and contradictory words and behavior. The truth is, his weave confuses him more than it does us.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Here, as part of Trump’s clever weave, the person who referred to himself as a unifier denigrates others with childish nicknames. That was the same speech in which he considered himself a peacemaker. This was a little while before he began blowing things up and killing people.

Trump also said in that speech that he hoped his election would bring “a new spirit of unity to a world that has been angry, violent, and totally unpredictable.”

Irony is completely lost on him.

Bonus Trump Quote:

“It will be the exact opposite of the JCPOA disaster negotiated by the failed Obama Administration, which was a direct and open path to a Nuclear Weapon for Iran. No, I don’t do deals like that! President DJT.”

Yes, because that was quite a disaster. No war, no death. No rising oil prices because of a closed strait. No rising food and energy prices because of the rising oil prices. No strain on our military because of wanton bombing and ship deployments.

Oh, yeah, and they weren’t working on their nuclear program. That didn’t begin until Trump withdrew from the JCPOA.

Yep. Quite a ‘disaster’.

Today’s theme music comes from an exchange with my wife. Standard one: “How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“I slept great,” I said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.”

Those words awoke The Neurons. They immediately summoned John Prine to the morning mental music stream. I soon had him singing, “Pretty Good” in my head.

Hope you have a pretty good day, and a pretty good week, too.

This coffee tastes pretty good right now.

Cheers

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The Cork Dream

I dreamed I was at my mother’s house. It wasn’t her real-life house but I knew what it was in my dream. Although everything was white, there was little light.

I was trying to open some kind of cistern. As it transpired, I knew that it was wine I tried opening, to see how it was. It was supposed to be red wine.

I was being very careful, meticulous, because I worried about the cork falling apart. But it wasn’t the ‘traditional’ cork stopper, but a round, flat circle.

My youngest sister joined me. She asked what I was doing and I softly explained it as she leaned over me and watched. I had just gotten the safely out when something fell into the wine.

I asked my sister, “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Was that a piece of the cork falling in?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so.” I sat back. “All that work and I got it out and then it broke and fell in.”

I smiled at her. “Oh, well.”

Laughing, she replied, “I know.”

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Friday’s Theme Music

Newport, Oregon — Saturday, May 22, 2026.

It’s 54 F with a high of 60 in sight. The waves are calmer, but the wind continues ransacking the beach. Nobody is down there right now. I did see four small figures walking it an hour ago…

We opened our laptops to see if Trump passed away or if the war was over. Big news is that some Republicans said no to Trump’s ballroom drone port military underground bunker funding request of a cool billion. Seems like its elections optics and not principles. Few are bothering to recall that Trump said it would be built with donations and cost just two hundred million and the American taxpayers would pay nothing.

One of those ‘standing up’ is Susan Collins, who exhibits the same moral fortitude as a feather on the wind. Yeah, I’ not impressed.

Trump’s response: attack those who said no, etc. Says, paraphrasing, ‘This is all according to the plan and we’ve been saying it all along.’ Sure; that’s why there’s no evidence online of that. Question: does he think us all that stupid, or is he that stupid?

He’ll probably steal, er, shift the money from somewhere else. That’s his MO. Screw the laws, constitution, all that.

It’s all part of the same game for him: launch a war, say it’s over, promise it will be over shortly, tell us that it’s not long compared to other wars, tell us it’s not a way. Just like his healthcare plan that never arrived. His promises to lower prices day one. Claim that he’ll ‘fix’ the Lincoln Reflecting Pool for 1.8 million which becomes over ten million.

Still waiting on the Epstein files.

My sister, Gina, is busy selling Mom’s household items and pushing to get the house sold. I admire her energy level and remain really thankful that she’s there to do these things.

Today’s music is by Damn Yankees. I don’t know why “High Enough” is in the morning mental music stream today. It could have to do with a dream, I suppose. The Neurons aren’t connecting the dots for me.

I hope your day goes well, and you go to bed satisfied with what’s transpired for you.

Time for Operation Epic Find Food.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Florence, Oregon — Wednesday, May 20, 2026.

To clarify, we’re actually staying at Heceta Beach, 3 miles north of Florence. Heard from the catsitter. Papi has adjusted to her presence and her feeding him, and is basically acting just as if we’re there.

It’s 60 F now, on its way to 63 F. Here’s this morning beach photo.

We’ve had wonderful, fresh, tasty food everywhere we’ve eaten, and have only met nice folks. Hope to hell I’m not jinxing this by mentioning it.

Yesterday was a bad day for Mom and my sister Gina, Mom’s defacto caregiver. Mom had another UTI, was complaining of dizziness and headaches. Gina took her to urgent care. They said Mom’s UTI isn’t responding to antibiotics and needs something stronger and had Gina take her to a hospital, UPMC East. Well, that was an eight hour ordeal for them, with miscommunication between the two care facilities.

Mom was back into her room around midnight. Gina was shocked at its state; disorganized and messy. Very un-Mom. Mom denies her dizziness is a problem but Gina said she complained about it multiple times. XRays and CT Scans showed nothing.

Gina is also frustrating because the other sisters are ‘too busy’ to help with Mom. She ended up transferring Mom from car to wheelchair to bed, and back, etc, eighteen times yesterday.

Poor Mom. Poor Gina.

This is life.

Haven’t looked at the news this morning. Don’t want to disrupt the vacay vibe by doing that before I’ve had my daily wine and beer. I mean, coffee. Yeah, that’s what I meant.

I did see that Trump’s Iran War is not over. The price of gas is shocking here. Diesel prices are almost at $7 a gallon.

Trump mocked that as ‘peanuts’. He insists he’s a man on a mission to stop Iran from having nuclear weapons, no matter how much pain it cause US citizens and the world. Sure; we believe that. It’s all just part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

Today’s song is “Boys of Summer”. Written by Mike Campbell, a guitarist who played and wrote with Tom Petty, Petty turned the song down. Don Henley took it and had a hit in 1984.

The Neurons put it in the morning mental music stream because several times, I looked out at the beach and saw, “Nobody on the beach.” Recognizing the line from the song, I suppose Les Neurons thought I was trying to remember it.

I hope your day progresses in a satisfying way. I find that coffee helps, along with staying well hydrated with other fluids.

Off to begin Operation Epic Eat Breakfast.

Cheers

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At the Goodwill

My wife and I are on the Oregon coast. We ate a wonderful fresh breakfast at the Fresh Harvest Cafe. Then we hit the local Goodwill.

My wife enjoys visiting Goodwill stores. She likes bargains and she likes re-using things. She did say today, “I’m not buying anything new. I’m death cleaning so whenever I see something I want, I just tell myself, ‘You’ll just have to throw it out.'” Books are the exceptions. We bought four, two for each of us.

Killing time, I wander the store and write a short story in my head. It’s about a future Goodwill. Dystopian situation. A guy ransacks an unused house. There’s a lot of them. Finding a cache of shot glasses, he brings them to the Goodwill. They give him a small bag of peanuts for them. He sits outside in the sunshine, savoring every nut as he eats them.

My sister texted me about her grandson’s birthday. He’s already fifteen, thoroughly discombobulating my brain, which still thinks of him as much younger. His mother is still a teenager in my thoughts. To see that he’s now a teenager is too much. I do the slow math; I was fifty-five when he was born. Time, you know?

Sis tells me that her grandson went to an Escape Room for his birthday. Muses gather in my head to conceptualize fiction about Escape Rooms.

Sis interrupts with a text abut Mom. She’s taken Mom to Urgent Care for another suspected UTI. Mom complains about dizziness as she Mom gets in and out of her wheelchair and the car.

Browsing Goodwill shelves, I see things which might be in my home. I go through an aisle of tools and imagine my tools in there.

I believe I have seen the future.

Leaving the building, I breath in fresh air and smile at the sunshine on my face.

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The Stuff

Mom has moved out of her house and into an assisted living facility.

A household of things have been left behind that we need to move to sell her house. That includes clothing, paintings, vases, dishes, appliances, furniture, electronics. My sisters contacted liquidators and estate sales businesses to see if they would do it for a cut.

Short answer: no. Not enough of value to make it worthwhile.

I wasn’t overly surprised. Mom has tons of clothing and shoes but none is really vintage. She has furniture but the agents said that furniture is a hard sale these days.

My wife and I talked about this in relation to our own life. Adverse to an estate sale after she passes on, my wife has been doing a slow-roll death clean: a drawer a day. A closet. Organizing, tossing, donating. She used to refer to it as simplifying; now she just calls it the death clean.

It’s one of the places where we diverge on our philosophies. I consider my life busy and frantic enough to do without going through my belongings to see what I still want and want I need to throw away or donate. I do so sometimes, but I don’t make it part of my daily or weekly routines.

This exchange summarizes it for us. My wife said, “I don’t want people having to come through the house to get rid of things for me.”

I replied, “I don’t care. I won’t be there.”

As I walk around the house, I wonder, what would the estate sales agents say to me?

I suspect they’ll tell me the same thing they said about Mom’s stuff.

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Thursday’s Theme Music — State of things

Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, May 14, 2026.

It’s blue out there, full of sunshine. Clouds are absent. 50 F with a high in the mid 70s today.

Thunderstorms looked possible yesterday but it didn’t happen. Just as in the previous days of forecasted activity. After the winter snow drought, May is at 3% of its average rainfall.

Our snowpack is at about 7%. While the reservoirs are above 80%, without snowmelt to replenish them, it’ll be a hot, dry summer. Stack the El Nino predictions, many of us are bracing ourselves for a rough year ahead.

Mom’s state is not good. She wasn’t responding to my sister’s texts. Sis called the assisted living facility, Heritage Grove, to ask about Mom. They said Mom went to bed before dinner and had not felt well all day.

On the optimistic side of the board, two neighbors are reportedly interested in buying Mom’s house.

My wife and I had new tires installed. For the record, we replaced a set that we’d bought in 2019. Got 35,000 miles out of them. Not great, not bad.

We bought them at Costco and had them installed there, shopping while we waited. As we were in the Medford area, we decided to eat out and chose the Texas Roadhouse Restaurant. My wife likes the salmon they serve there.

We couldn’t eat there. The way was blocked by ambulances and firetrucks. Wondering what’s going on, we took to our phones to learn. Nothing at the fire department, alert system, social media, or local television stations could give us that info.

This duplicated a Tuesday incident, in my mind. Driving home from writing at the coffee shop, one lane of traffic was blocked off in front of an SOU building on Siskiyou Avenue. What happened? I searched for information after I got home and couldn’t find anything. 24 hours later, the answer came: a woman had driven across the median strip, up a walkway, and into a building, breaking a gas meter along the way.

Miserable headlines fill my feed. When will there be good news? I’m not sure what I mean by good news at this point. An end to wars would be nice, along with a return to normalcy. Normalcy to me is let’s take action against polluting our air and water. Action against climate change. But the cynic in me says that PINO Trump would take credit for whatever and enough brain-dead people would slurp that down and bray about how great Dozy Donnie is that I’d regurgitate everything taken in during the last three days.

But here’s the state of things in the United States nation in one sharp observation someone else made:

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Paraphrasing, Trump lies, says this isn’t so bad, Biden! Because that worked well previously under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

Enough people with brains are responding, screw you.

You started a war, Donald J “No new wars” Trump.

The economy is a mess, gas prices are rising, all the prices are rising, Donald J “We’ll cut prices on day 1” Trump, and the country is going in the wrong direction.

And you, DONALD J TRUMP, YOU ARE THE REASON WE’RE IN SIX MILLION MESSES WITH NO WAY OUT EXCEPT TO FIRST GET RID OF YOU AND YOUR CRONIES.

Now stop building the damn ballroom and release the damn Epstein files so we can feast on your political corpse.

The Neurons inserted “Mind Games” by John Lennon into my morning mental music stream. This actually came about from Papi’s state of mind this morning. I played with him and his favorite nemesis, the red dot. The play began abruptly. As soon as he engaged, I stopped for about a minute. He kept peeking left and right, waiting for it to reappear. Just as he started walking off, I blinked it back on. Off Papi went, chasing it across the room, then stalking it.

I hope your Thursday brings you some good news and fair winds, assuming you need winds to get somewhere. Like you drive a sail car and need to have wind to blow you along the Interstate.

Have my coffee now. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music – Turn to stone

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, May 12, 2026.

It’s 66 F in Ashland. Clouds have painted a thin white veneer over the blue. Thunderstorms are forecast, along with an 87 degree high as spring moves toward summer.

Papi and I went out back. As I was stretching and yawning, I looked down and saw him doing the same. I laughed. “Nice stretching, oh great fur being.” He sat down and began grooming places that I groom in the shower.

News from home is that Mom is sick again. Details are shared. Her sciatic nerve has flared up and she’s back in her wheelchair. Also suffering from diarrhea. Sis says that’s been going on for a week.

My sister has been in content with estate sellers. Familiar with them? They buy the contents and then sell it to the public. They really want to know if there’s anything there besides furniture. Yes, there’s all the things you’d find in house where someone lives. I know that there’s a new movement on about ‘vintage’ stuff. Corning Ware is very popular now. Old clothes. Mom has all that stuff.

Strange and humbling to think simultaneously of all that stuff being bought, used, and sold to others. Decisions made about each purchase. I’d rather that someone else finds and uses the stuff rather than having it going to trash or recycled for its materials.

Today’s music has a two-prong inspiration. One, Jill Dennison recently played ELO’s song, “Turn to Stone”. A good song, it brought to mind another song called “Turn to Stone”. As soon as I read “Turn to Stone” on Jill’s blog, The Neurons introduced Joe Walsh’s “Turn to Stone” song.

I also remembered that I once read that Walsh said the song was about frustration. In true ‘net spirit, Wikipedia.org has a good quote about that from Walsh.

“‘Turn to Stone’ was written about the Nixon administration and the Vietnam War and the protesting that was going on and all of that. It’s a song about frustration. Also, I attended Kent State. I was at the shootings. That fueled it, too. In those days it felt like the government’s priority was not the population. They had an agenda that was about something other than doing what was necessarily good for the country.”

That last line echoes through Trump’s agenda. Driven by ‘right-wing values’, also known as racism, sexism, and greed, and orchestrate by the Heritage Foundation and Project 2025, Trump’s agenda is about him and not at all anything necessarily good for the country.

As Joe sings, “Read the writing on the wall.”

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Inflation news grabbed headlines this morning. Driven by Trump’s non-war in Iran, inflation jumped 3.8% in April. Rising gas prices were a big factor.

Trump’s disapproval rating keeps climbing. The NYT’s page summarizing polls and their Trump ratings are a column of red, showing net disapproval in every poll.

One another piece of news was that Epstein survivors are testifying in Florida. Standing by for another salvo from Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL to distract us from these pieces of news.

On to the music. Hope your day is full of good intentions and good results.

Got my coffee. Time to fly. Cheers

1

Sunday’s Theme Music – Days like this

Ashland, southern Oregon — Sunday, May 10, 2026.

Happy Mother’s Day to the mothers in the United States. Oh, what the heck, make it to the mothers of the world, no matter your religion, nationality, or species.

It’s 65 F in Ashland with light clouds mildly blocking the sunshine. Our high will hit the upper 70s, giving us pleasant holiday weather.

I’d written a post earlier. Edge crashed, taking the post with it. WordPress hadn’t ‘autosaved’ it, so there was nothing to show that I’d been typing and thinking. Foolishly, I hadn’t saved it myself.

After that, I decided, I’m taking a hiatus from thinking about the news today and commenting on it. Do a MDB: Mother’s Day Blackout.

That’s when the 1995 Van Morrison song entered the morning mental music stream. I retired from the US Air Force in ’95. I heard this song on the radio in one of the first few days of life after wearing a military uniform for twenty years.

I wasn’t employed for the first time since 1974. Wasn’t really looking yet, either; I had my retirement pension. My wife was getting antsy, though. Still, I’d decided to take time off for myself. There would be other days for work.

That happened in early November. By December, I was employed and was fortunate to remain employed for another twenty years.

Today has a similar vibe to my memory of that 1995 day. Look at how over thirty years have passed, and here I sit, feeling like I’m at another threshold. Then again, every day is another threshold.

Remembered Lyrics

When you don’t need to worry there’ll be days like this
When no one’s in a hurry there’ll be days like this
When you don’t get betrayed by that old Judas kiss
Oh my mama told me there’ll be days like this

When you don’t need an answer there’ll be days like this
When you don’t meet a chancer there’ll be days like this

When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit
Then I must remember there’ll be days like this

Hope your Mother’s Day is a good day for you and yours, no matter your sex, gender, whatever. Just celebrate the day, rejoice in what is, and make something to build in.

Coffee is here. Cheers

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