Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Cruising the morning headlines, one hooked his brain. “First public erection.”
Wait, what? He went back. Ah, “First public execution.”
Oh. That’s alarming in a different way.
Definitely not good to read the news without first having his morning coffee.
Friends and I were awakening from sleep in a darkly cluttered place. Three or four others were there, including one friend from RL forty years ago. The others were dream friends but not anyone from this RL. As the sun rose, an old stage, perhaps once part of a high school but now outside, gained substance.
We talked about news while sitting up, rubbing sleep out of our faces, and stretching. One was complaining that people didn’t understand the news and headlines. Someone suggested that we should do plays where we would just read headlines and stories and then explain them. Sounded good to me. Someone else said that we needed to clean the area up but I asked why because the stage with its clutter and junk seemed like a meta statement about our world. As this conversation went on, the sun rose, daylight came up, papers were dropped off on the stage and people became walking past. We’d been rolling up our sleeping bags, putting other shirts on, and making coffee. Now one guy picked up a newspaper and started reading it aloud. People going past stopped to listen.
I went down steps, out the back, and met my cousin. He and I went off to collect our clothing, which was somewhere else, because we needed to get ready to go. He kept talking about what he was going to wear and asking my opinion of his ideas, but I wasn’t deeply invested in that and didn’t respond much. Reaching a building, we went upstairs and found our open suitcases. This wasn’t the clothes we wanted; that was at Mom’s house, my cousin thought, suggesting that we go there. I told my wife where we were going. She decided to come with us.
We entered a large white vehicle with a thick black stripe down each side. The inside was flat and wide, with a thin, gray carpet on the floor. Windows were on every side, giving great visibility. Some gray folding chairs were set up in it in the front, but we would need more. I set up some chairs that I found, dubbing one in the second row by the window as ‘mine’. Two people were already seated in the front row, where three chairs were set up. One of those was my SIL, who was waiting to leave as well, which startled me. For some reason, I didn’t expect her there.
My cousin had disappeared, and so had my wife. I went out to Mom’s home and found the clothes which I wanted, and put on a green shirt to wear while I traveled. Going back outside I saw cars pulling up and parking on the lush green lawn. “They’re not going to like that,” I told others several times, talking about the people who lived in this housing area. “They’re proud of their lawn. They should move their cars before they’re found.”
Everyone ignored me. I found my cousin back inside Mom’s house. Mom was talking to him as he complained that his clothes weren’t there. I looked and discovered that the suitcase holding his clothes had been emptied. I told him that he would just need to go in what he was wearing, which really upset him.
I returned to the white car. Nobody had set up any more chairs. The driver was present, adjusting his folding chair as a seat, along with my SIL, who was still in her seat. My wife was in the seat which I’d designated for myself. I complained about that with her; she ignored me. Exasperated, I set up another chair behind my SIL. I asked her where she was going, and she answered, “The same place as you.”
I responded, “I’m going back to school.”
She answered, “So am I.”
The car rocked with movement. Going to a window and looking out, I discovered that the car was tall and much larger than expected. We seemed to be twenty feet off the ground. I didn’t know how that was possible.
Dreams ends as the car moves forward with me looking out the window and others talking behind me.
Wednesday came calling. I agreed to meet, have some coffee, see where the day drives us.
Thinking of the snowstorm that hit the northeastern U.S. Probably hit Canada, too, but when the U.S. is involved, news of other countries is often crowded out in my realm. Photos and videos are ripe click bait the last few days as stories about the snow’s depth piled up. Some people claim in comments, that’s Photoshop. It wasn’t that bad. Everything is questioned.
Misty damp gray dresses Wednesday here. It’s the day before Thanksgiving in the U.S., November 23, 2022. 38 F, with a shy sun and smirking clouds that hold the sky. The high temperature will be 52 F. For the record, sunrise and set are 7:11 AM and 7:43 PM.
Catching up on Mom news. I text her every morning. It’s about making her feel better. She changed bedspreads, washed the old stuff, put it in the storage bag and then into the closet. Live-in boyfriend helped. He’s 92, damn good shape. She meets with her doctor today to discuss her latest issue, the yokenella regensburgei. No growth after the five-day colony test. Nothing there. So. What to do, the doctors are debating. She meets with them today.
The Neurons have “Hypnotized” by Fleetwood Mac in the MMMS (TM pending). Not about being hypnotized, but the sentiment taken from the opening verses about the same old story. Reading news, déjà vu rakes the senses. I’ve been here before, not too long ago. The day is comfortable, but is that safe?
Other than that, preparing for our now almost traditional friendsgiving celebration. Spouse does almost all of our contribution. We’re being simple this year. I’ve prepared things in the past so we would both take something, but this year, she drew back and said, “I’m just doing deviled eggs and a cheese and cracker spread. We’ll also take a nice bottle of wine.” She’s in charge, so I replied, “Okay.” Be about eighteen people there, all vaxxed. Most have also had COVID. It’s at a farmhouse in the country. Hope it’s a clear night there, as I love standing in that empty space by their house, considering the stars.
Coffee is ready so Wednesday and I will have a cup, see what shakes out. Stay positive, test negative. Here’s the music. It’s Fleetwood Mac with Bob Welch. Bob wrote the song.
Cheers
The Day Gods delivered Sunday. The Cloud Gods poured frothy clouds across the sky and added a tincture of gray to them. The Sun Gods arrived at 6:59 this morning and pushed some clouds aside, admitting slates of blue sky and sunshine. The Tree Gods yawned and made no changes to the panoply of colorful leaves.
It’s November 13, 2022.
The Sun Gods will remove the valley’s light at 4:51 PM, letting the Night Gods creep back in. Meanwhile, the Gods of Heat and Warmth have the temperature at 40 F. They will have us crack 52 F, they tell us through their spokespeople. Since it all started, the Wind Gods have implemented gusts and winds, and the Sky Gods have cleaned up the clouds, giving sunshine and blue sky unfettered control — for the moment. It’s a typical day for the gods as they act and counter act, working for a sustained advantage.
Reading the news about a rookie cop shooting someone in the back after misidentifying them has The Neurons busy. It was a tragic mistake, the police chief tells us, and the rookie is fired. The family of the teenager — that’s the shooting victim — and the girl who was with him are distraught. But, it’s a mistake. Mistakes happen. Seizing that, The Neurons pour the 1983 Men At Work song, “It’s A Mistake”, into the morning mental music stream.
The Coffee Gods have come through with their goods, so I’m off. Stay positive and test negative. Here’s the music. Wishing you the best. Cheers
Bellowing, “I am here,” November stomped in. Rain fell. Temperatures fell. Snow flurries fell.
Sun rise came at 7:44, but with November’s presence, the sun became a meek shadow of itself. It’s 2 degrees C now but we expect a slow battle to 48 F before the sun surrenders to the situation at 6:05 PM. With no sunlight and tenuous daylight, we’re forced, for the first time in months, to turn on houselights to see in the morning.
Clarification is needed. The two baths, one lit by a window and a solar tube, and the other illuminated by a skylight, often needs a light turned on in the morning. So, frequently, does the kitchen outside of the summer months. Situated in the west facing side — yeah, ‘the front’ would be the technical expression — the kitchen’s western window doesn’t catch any morning sunlight, either. Not in the autumn, winter, and early spring. Those rooms typically need a light turned on, as does the laundry room. Windowless, it’s in the house’s middle.
But the office, with its huge windows, doesn’t usually need added houselights. Even though it’s also on the western side, it’s just drop the blinds and let in the daylight. Not today, friends, not today. The lights are on even in the office.
This is Tuesday, November 1, 2022. Change the calendar’s page and say good-bye to October. You might catch 2023 peeking around a corner. Give her a wave if you do. She’s coming. It wouldn’t hurt to be chummy with her when she arrives.
BTW, a winter storm warning is out, snow above 5,000 feet. Chain and snow tire season has landed.
Rain songs from multiple decades deluge the morning mental music stream. But the cold wins. Many songs oriented around the cold exist but The Neurons fell back on a Tom Petty favorite, “Out in the Cold”, from 1991. They’re moved that way by memory. 1991’s start find me stationed in Germany, ending a four-year duty as part of a covert intelligence unit. February, I arrived in the SF Bay area, out in Sunnyvale, California, and my new and final duty assignment at Onizuka Air Station. It was pouring freakin’ rain that day, the end of a drought that’d been plaguing the area. It was also cold, and that was the year in which Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers had a hit with this song. It’s a rocking band. Love Mike’s shredding on lead guitar.
I’ve used this song back in June, 2021. A cool morning, I wrote, and rainy. I had three cats then. They were out there with me as I enjoyed the rain and a cup of coffee. Two stayed out while the other went back inside with me.
1991 was also when the first Gulf War was going on. Remember that?
Stay positive, test negative, drink a warm beverage if it’s a cold day, stay cool if it’s a hot one for you. That’s what was always interesting about my travels, finding the new weather of the new location after touching down. The weather announced, “You are here.”
The coffee is also here, hot, black, and ready. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Yesterday had us in bee mode, going from event to event. Slowly today, with only one thing on schedule.
It’s Saturday. Claim you prize at the window if you guessed correctly. Don’t know what the prize is. You’ll need to talk to the director about that. It’s also Oct. 22, 2022, if you’re going for the perfecta.
Rain began last night at tennish, got serious about it around midnight, calmed itself down for part of the night, and then stormed back at five. Lot of rain sounds. Some wind joined in to move a few things. We’ve needed rain, so yea, and now need snow. Fortunately, snow is forecast for the area above 5,000 feet. We’re below two, so we shouldn’t need to deal. More rain is due from above today (I know, where else did I think it would come from?), with most forecasts proclaiming it’s going to rain from early afternoon to almost midnight.
It’s currently 45 F in our area. 10 to 11 degrees C is posted as expectations for our high. We have a plan to go to the Japanese Garden opening in Lithia Park. Two plus years in the making, they tore up some stuff and built a wall, so ambivalence is greeting the park’s appearance. They’re also talking about perhaps charging an entrance fee in the future, anathema to Ashland’s attitude toward parks. They’re supposed to be free recreation areas for the people, yo. We’ll see what happens when the future arrives.
Dawn had an underwhelming arrival, with clouds and rain dictating light and visibility. Sunrise came at 7:32 AM. On daylight’s other end — dare I say, its rear end? — sunset will be at 6:18.
We were at Empty Bowls last night, the fundraiser for feeding the homeless and struggling. My wife is part of the setup committee. We met with other friends there, catching up on news from the COVID era. Too much of it was about bad health. Three friends, not seen in a while, we learned had died. Another had a massive heart attack and was going in for triple bypass surgery on Monday. But there were also sunny faces sharing happy tales about how well they and their families were doing.
This is a transition day for me vis-à-vis clothing options. I’ve been in shorts in Oregon since spring, other than a few special events. Now it’s time to dig out jeans, long shirts and sweaters, and raincoats. That had me thinking about yesterday, which was a magnet for The Neurons. They came out with 30 Seconds to Mars and “From Yesterday”. It took me a while to put that together as I had the refrains about a map of the world on his face going on. In fact, I often incorrectly think that the 2007 song’s title is “Map of the World”. But as the song went through my head, the title was corrected.
The cats are also transitioning. Tucker was out, moving around the yard seeking solar patches, but Papi, the young feline, said, “Screw this,” and mostly stayed in the house. Of course, the night of rain arrived, and the situation reversed. Now, though, both cats are declared themselves indoor pets. Tucker slumbers on the desk left of my computer while ever a contrarian, Papi naps on the living room sofa.
Well, stay pos, test neg. I’m up for coffee and an orange cranberry scone. Can I get you anything? Here’s the music while you think about it. I couldn’t find the short version so here’s medium version. The actual song begins about halfway through.
Cheers
*throat is cleared*
He has a small, really tiny rant today. Websites like to entice him with a headline. While he reads that article, a video plays about the same article. Then, though, another video about a different article begins.
Seriously, WTF? It’s chaotic and annoying. They must think we’re children, running around, high on sugar and caffeine, too buzzy to pay attention.
The winds brought in some news. A friend, Carol, was to meet another for lunch and whatever. Carol, known by habit and character to be punctual, didn’t show. The jilted date went to Carol’s house to learn why. The front door was unlocked, the television was on, and there was Carol, dressed and seated in front of the telly, all ready to go, already gone.
She was always fun at the annual Oscars Party, held at Judy’s house each year. The pandemic put a stop to that nonsense. Carol was also known as an enthusiastic reader and one ready for a small glass of white, and a refill. She was tidy and neat, never a hair out of place, always in stylish shoes, fast with a quip, ready to talk politics and the latest on the war, economy, or technology. She is, of course, irreplaceable, as they all are. News of her passing is going through the community like a high-speed boat.
All agree, we’ll certainly miss Carol. At least, the consensus says, she went out the best way, dressed and ready to go, with little apparent bother, and no long good-byes. She never was one for long good-byes.
I live in Ashland, in southern Oregon. Events drove me east, to where Mom and several sisters reside in the Pittsburgh, PA area. On Friday, September 10, I took the redeye to Pittsburgh. Already down with COVID, Mom suffered a perforated appendix and also had COVID pneumonia, and was in Forbes Hospital, demanding morphine and fighting against being intubated. They moved her to a step down unit for more intensive monitoring and care, and was in isolation. Masks, gloves, and gowns were required to visit her, only two visitors at a time.
She’s recovered a lot since then. With antibiotics and treatment, her COVID subsided. The appendix perforation closed. Her pacemaker had only been working at less than 20%, so that was also a problem, as was a blood clot. The blood clot ended up in her spleen, which they said was okay, and her heart and pacemaker both increased to 50 % function. Pleased with her progress, she was discharged from the hospital last Monday and moved to a nursing home.
She liked the nursing home, Concordia. Physical therapy began. They told her she’d probably be there two to six weeks. That was pared down to two yesterday.
They released her today.
That surprised me. Apparently what precipitated it was a night of hell for her. Hearing about it, my sisters grew angry and charged down there.
You do not want to be in their way when my sisters are angry, especially if their family is involved. Move out of their way and in front of an oncoming bullet train. You’ll be safer.
Mom’s NoH included being abruptly taken off oxygen at midnight and not monitored. The night nurse had an attitude for whatever reason. She didn’t want to help Mom with her CPAC for sleeping and threw Mom’s phone on the floor. Mom’s door was open all night as another patient roamed the halls shouting, “I have a gun. I’m going to come in there and kill you.”
I’ve been staying at Mom’s house with her 92-year-old boyfriend, Frank, a great guy, but very passive, and under Mom’s control. Mom is 85. Her house was built eighty years ago. The steps are narrow and steep. It’s not built for a frail woman to get around and recover.
But this is why I’m here. I came here because it might’ve been time to say good-bye to Mom. I came here to give my sisters and Frank relief and support. Now I’ll be here to help give Mom care in her home. I don’t know what train of circumstances and logic led to the surprising decision that she’s being released today. It sounds like a crazy train, in my uninformed thinking. It’s a fluid situation. The sisters are racing back to the nursery home to learn more and, as necessary, help Mom get home. Per their thinking, I’m here, waiting for Mom to arrive in case my sisters don’t arrive in time.
Coffee is on. I think we’ll need a few cups. Here we go.
Michael Seidel, writer 