I’m infatuated with the expression, “It’s really raining.” It’s like we were challenging the assertion that rain is falling. “No, no, it’s really raining.” In this context, though, ‘it’s really raining’ means precipitation is falling at a heavy level.
Anyway, accompanied by my floofguard, I came in from the covered patio and traveled through the house to where my wife was sitting in the snug. “It’s really raining,” I said.
“I know. I told you that a few minutes.”
“Really? I didn’t hear you. It must have ricocheted off my ear without getting to my brain.”
“You weren’t in the room. I don’t know where you were. I said it twice, thinking that you might pick it up.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I shook my head. “I guess reception was bad.”
Cool rain commences. It’s Satyrda, August 18, 2025. 72 F, we’re two degrees short of our expected high.
Papi loves this weather. The back door is open and the ginger floof makes it his territory. Lounging there, he can monitor us and the outside, grooming after breakfast.
We’re on final vacay prep. I take my ‘puter, so I’ll post but less often and more inconsistently. We’re there mainly for the ocean’s influence. That’d be the Pacific. Our rental place is a few hundred walkable yards from where the ocean beats the rocks and sprays mist the air. The floofsitter will be staying in our house, as her place has some repairs going on. She and Papi get along quite well. I trust the situation in her hands.
I see that Trump hit the trifecta with wholesale vegetable prices in July. Stories I’ve read say the veggie prices jumped over 39 percent.
What led to this? Well, a trio of issues, mainly. One, unpredictable weather, you know, like the increasingly erratic weather caused by climate change, which Trump claims is fake news because he and his supporters are either too dense to understand it, or they view it as a siphon on profits, and without money, life has little meaning for ’em, outside of hatred.
The second cause for the wholesale price jump was cited as labor shortages. That was predicted loudly and continually by anyone with a brain larger than a pea who has paid attention what goes on in the U.S. These labor shortages are directly attributed to Trump’s ICE disappearance policies and heavy-handed gestapo strategy.
The final nail in the almost 40 percent price increase was Trump’s tariffs. Again, very predictable except to the mango clown waddling around the Offal Office and his simpering minions.
Now, on the right, they like to claim that the labor shortage isn’t that bad. That ‘Murican will take over those migrant jobs. They love fables like that. They also bulk up their reasoning with claims that machinery now does most of the vegetable harvesting. While true that machines are used in many circumstances, hand-picking is needed for anything that’s going farm to table. Machines are used for harvesting veggies and fruits destined for canning and animal feed.
This news came from the BLS. Trump just fired that agency’s leader after the downward revision of labor for the previous two months, information which showed that the economy is going down the toilet. Trump hates info like that, so someone over at BLS is gonna get their head handed to them.
The bad economic news also comes on the heels of the Putin and Trump talks about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Trump’s sucking up and lack of results make him look weak, and Putin ably handled him. Net result: Trump won nothing but praise from Putin for being a victim. Trump loves believing he’s a victim, one of the most unfairly treated people in the world, so he ate that shit up with a large spoon.
Shame, though. All this bad press has diminished the focus on the Epstein Files, and how deep Trump was in with Epstein. His lack of efforts to release the files and irritation whenever Epstein gets mentioned, coupled with his delicate handling of the felon named Maxwell, leads many to think that Trump is bigly mentioned in that file, and not in good ways.
Donald Trump with his buddy, the late convicted sex offender, Jeffrey Epstein.
Today’s music is brought to you by my sister. She mentioned yellow on a social media platform, sharing a post asking, “Who is your yellow?” A yellow is a person who brings joy into your life without trying. When I read that, The Neurons pumped up “Yellow” by Coldplay in the morning mental music stream. So here we are.
Coffee is making itself at home among my Neurons. Getting ready to pounce on another day. Hope peace and grace carry you on to the best days you can live. Cheers
Thirstda, July’s last day of 2025, greets us with clouds and sunshine. I’m off to a late blogging and writing start, delayed by a felt need to cut grass and weed before the sun and heat was too overpowering. Now it’s one PM, 84 F, with a ‘feels-like’ of 92, on the way to an 87F high. Light scattered rain is expected. I smelled petichor last night and went out looking for rain. While I heard what sounded like hungry stomachs rumbling among the dark clouds, rain successfully evaded me.
I’m already in the coffee shop. I noticed a sheet of paper on the counter. Handwritten, it was the inventory. That had me redoubling with chuckling. The writing, in black marker, was a combination of cursive and printing, which is my own style. Has been for years. It’s funny to me that this tech-driven computer age still features handwritten processes.
I like what a friend posted on FB yesterday:
Take your pick of weird Mother Earth events today in Oregon. Tsunami, red flag warning, lightning, thunderstorms, wind, fire, smoke. Hopefully it’s all pretty minor. Stay safe!
Jill Dennison featured a Foreigner tune on her blog. It’s the powerful rock ballad, “I Want To Know What Love Is”. The song moves many to tears and it’s not uncommon to witness folks singing along with it. I commented on the song selection, I mentioned that I enjoy Foreigner as a solid rock band. She asked me to suggest other Foreigner songs. I offered her “Dirty White Boy” and “Juke Box Hero”.
But was yesterday. Thinking themselves amusing, The Neurons slotted “That Was Yesterday” by Foreigner in my morning mental music stream. The 1985 song has a catchy chorus and is easy to mumble along to.
Working hard to undermine democracy and establish an authoritarian plutocracy, Texas is redrawing maps to exclude Democrats and their elected reps. Offering bankrupt ideas and languishing morals for most of this century, the bend to cheat results and steal power. My disgust is off the chart. We’ll see if Democrats and voters can turn back this effort. Fingers are crossed but between the heavy-handed Texas GOP and the swollen to the right SCOTUS, my hope is spider-web thin.
Peace and grace to you today. Hope both find you. On to other things. Cheers
When it rained, it poured. Ashlandia found itself in rain’s thrall this morning, Munda, Mai 12, 2025. Our usual rounds of complaints and hopes were expressed: rain is good, but so is sunshine, and the cisterns and reservoirs are full. It is nice to put done to the drought and have wet land and vegetation again. And soon, we remind each other, the sun will be turned on full and we’ll be drenched in sunny heat and triple digit temperatures. In other words, shut your mouth and enjoy what you got, we Ashlandplain to one another.
Temperature is 50 F. Mostly cloudy. Drying. Visibility has improved. Low clouds were embracing the ridge tops, bringing to mind the Allegheny Mountains in Western Pennsylvania, Eiffel Mountains in Germany, and the mountain ranges of South Korea. Now the cloud ceiling has lifted, but sunshine is still rationed like the last gallon of water. Ashlandia’s high will kiss 58 F.
Papi is not of a mind to enjoy the rain. He came into the house about dark rain thirty, yelling for company, food, and a towel. After testing the weather for half of the morning, he found a comfort zone on a bed and made it his temporary home.
Now, hey, look, sunshine has burst out on us.
Trumpland Munda has given us another mind-boggling start to the week. There’s his ‘big deal’ with China. Trump says he’s lowered the tariffs and made the greatest deal in the world; China says, “It’s a good first step.” Trump is actually undoing some of the mess he created. That brainless child called the stock markets responded with the giddy joy of a child being given a huge bag of their favorite sweets. Meanwhile, since it’s Trump, he could renege tomorrow. It’s also only temporary at this point, a pause, not a cancellation. Or it could just be another distraction, part of his long con.
Trump’s Regime is arguing that its plans to lay off, fire, or terminate government employees should not be released to the public. Why, you might ask. Well, of course for the best reason of all: it could cause “embarrassment” or “annoyance” for the Trump Regime. So what if it’s completely disrupting millions of lives? Woo boy, that administration embarrassment or annoyance is a powerful, powerful reason. Yes, that was snark, since you asked.
The week’s forecast calls for more chaos, lies, and bullshit in Trumpland.
Today’s music is “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan. This song came out in 2020 and was re-released in 2023. Now, suddenly, we’re hearing it all the time. Wikipedia labels it, “a pop, synth-pop, dance-pop, power pop, disco-pop, and disco track that describes the story of a woman moving to Southern California from her home residence of Tennessee, taking a job as a dancer in a gay club in West Hollywood despite her mother’s wishes.”
When my wife and I were on vacation on the Oregon Coast recently, this song came on whenever the radio was clicked on. Same thing happened today when we did our Food & Friends delivery. Not my style of music but its melody has gotten snarled in My Neuron’s morning mental music stream, and I can’t get it out. The best tactic in these situations is to share the song with others. That somehow loosens its hold on my brain.
The song has brought Chappell Roan significant commercial success and recognition. More importantly, in interviews, she talks about how freeing writing and performing the song was for her. She never felt like she belonged in her hometown. Creating this song empowered her. Congratulations to her. I hope she enjoys more success.
A misty veneer keeps the sunshine under wraps. Mists devour the greenery, truncating the world view to a small circle of existence. Rain keeps everything looking wet. A secure house with a little heat keeps it all cozy.
It’s Saturda, May 3, 2025, and 46 F. Not far off from the tops of 50 F.
Our ride home yesterday was uneventful. Traffic was light and moved well. Fascinating to leave the coast and arrive in a warm and sunny day in Roseburg. We stopped for gas at the Costco station there and then zipped on down I5. Total travel time was 4.5 hours, with a stop to eat egg and cheese croissant sandwiches we’d bought at a bakery that AM, and the stop at Costco for gas, using the restroom, and wandering around that Costco for a few to get a taste of it.
We did have one close moment. A semi began moving over on us. Think he saw a ramp ahead where traffic was coming on. Didn’t see my silver SUV in his mirrors alongside him. Fortunately, we had shoulder room. I snapped us left and punched the loud pedal while my wife let out a large gasp. Looking back, I saw everyone slow down behind the truck. Took a long time before people began passing that truck again.
Today’s music was inspired by AKing. They reminded me in comments of Rory Gallagher and “Bullfrog Blues”. I first heard Canned Heat do the old blues song in the 1960s. I had it as my theme music back in 2019. You know, during the first Trump administration.
Well, did you ever wake up With them bullfrogs on your mind? Well, did you ever wake up With them bullfrogs on your mind? You had to sit there laughin’ Laughin’ just to keep from crying
And many of Trump’s bellicose, Constitutional contrary, authoritarian wannabe whining texts have me shaking my head. So it’s an apt theme song for today’s political atmosphere where you have to sit there laughing just to keep from crying.
Here’s a copy of Canned Heat performing “Bullfrog Blues”.
Then here’s a tape of Rory Gallagher and his band doing a rousing performance of the same ol’ tune.
Both renditions have me remembering and grinning.
Coffee has been reintroduced into my biosystems. Neurons are beginning to fire in order. Hope your weekend rockets you to good state of mind. I’ll do my best on my head. Here we go. Cheers
Papi cat is not happy. I know this because of the shouting meows. Not just the sound. He faces me and leans into it. Stretches his jaws wide. He’s Maria Callas using his diaphragm to belt it out.
“I know,” I tell him.
Rain fell all night. Sometimes in buckets. Papi is not a friend of rain. We also re-installed the pet door. In days past, Tucker slept on the mat in front of the pet door. That meant no other animal was entering. With Tucker gone, we decided the food bowls needed to be moved further away.
Background is, we had a buncha cats at one point. They usually didn’t get along. So we had three feeding stations. One in each the laundry room, the office, and the bedroom. In the bedroom, the feeding station lives by the wall beside the sliding door where the pet door resides. We thought it needed to be moved further away so that some passing animal didn’t sniff the kibble richness and come in through the pet door. Since Tucker is no longer guarding the pet door.
But all that change has Papi irritated. Pour the rain on top and he feels that the world is a cruel and injust place.
“I know,” I tell him. “I had to change my diet due to high blood pressure. It sucks.”
“Meyeah,” Papi wailed back.
Yes, it has rained all night. It’s wet and chilly this morning. 44 F and rain. The high will be 51 F and rain. The low will be 41 F and rain. The rain is good for the land, we remind each other. The pep in our pep talks is petering out, though. Everyone wants sunshine until they don’t. Then we want rain. Until we don’t. It’s the cycle of complaint. Weather version.
This is Saturda. April 26, 2025. Still spring in Ashlandia. And typical Ashlandia spring weather.
I’m a little miffed. I had yard plans. I’d been making progress. The rain has placed a pause on the cause. I can’t do the things planned, cause rain and electric power equipment. I’ve read somewhere that they are not a good combination.
I’m happy it’s Saturday. The news cycle slows on the weekends. News doesn’t stop but less people are reporting and airing it. Much as I’d like a break from it, we need to stay vigilant against the Trusk Regime’s evil. That evil goes 24/7. Just when you think their empathy has bottomed, they show a lower side. Most recently, they deported a two-year US citizen. Because, Trump. He no like the 16th Amendment. So he decided to ignore it. Because that’s what you do if you dislike laws. It’s the Trump U.S.A. way.
Snark alert: The other ‘good’ news is that the number of measles cases keep rising. Looks like RFK Jr’s plans just can’t get an angle on stopping it. Probably because he eschews using science and medicine.
Final bit of irritating news. Trump says he’s talking to China about the tariffs. China says, “No, he isn’t.” Either side could be lying. Given Trump’s record, I believe it’s him. Trump is lying. Yet again.
Puttering through the kitchen at pre-coffee speed, The Neurons raised a line in my head. “Let me remember things I don’t know.” I further slowed. I know the line. That wasn’t the line. That was a mondegreen: a misunderstood song line. Urging The Neurons into more effort, the song and real line punched in:
“Let me remember things I love, Lord.” CCR. “Green River”.
Coffee has made a safe landing in my body. Dressed, fed, and caffeinated, I am re-animated for another day. Hope you have a day that works in your favorite. It can happen. Cheers
Clouds have moved into Ashlandia. As neighbors go, they tend to being quiet but flighty. They’re also large but I don’t want to body shame anyone.
With the clouds, we get warmer nights but colder days. Last night only slipped down to 51 F. Today’s high will be 61 F. Will it rain? Let me consult with my digitized Magic 8 Ball. Magic 8 says “It is decidely so.”
Today, BTW, is marked as Friday, April 25, 2025. One third of 2025 is about to end. Despite all of PINO Trump’s promises, preening, and bullying, the Russia-Ukraine goes on. The government is in miserable shape and not saving any money. People are losing 401K money because the stock market and bond market are waaayyy worse than under the previous POTUS. Tourism is down. Talk and worries about empty shelves, increasing unemployment, recession and even economic depression is increasing. Pundits already call it the Trumpcession.
PINO Trump responds to it all with glee. “Look how much money my billionaire friends made.” He alternates that with, “What, me — worry?”
I have The Outsiders performing in the morning mental music stream. The song is “Time Won’t Let Me”. Released in 1965, it grew into a hit and radio staple. That led to its purchase as a 45 RPM offering. The record became part of the basement playlist in our neighborhood. We usually did that over at Tracy and Carolyn’s house, as they had a finished basement.
The Smithereens did a cover for the 1994 movie Timecop, starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. I admit, I prefer the original song.
Coffee has come to my aid again, fortifying my psyche for reading the news. Hope you’re all well out there in streaming land, cuz here we go. Cheers
The n’umbers are adding up. Several fours reside in today’s date: 04/24/2025. It’s Thirstda. The week’s fourth day. Depends on how it’s counted.
More eerie is the temperature. It’s 47. The high today will be 74. The low will be 47. All in Fahrenhei.
Alexa’s recital captivates me with all those fours and sevens. I graduated high school in 1974. Childhood was over. Joined the military. Went on my first flight. Slept with 49 other guys in two open bays for the first time. Had my head shaved to peach fuzz for the first time. Shaved off my mustache for the first time.1974 was a year of many first times.
I listened to a melange of radio rock and pop in 1974. I was driving a 1964 Mercury Comet sedan. Stout as a Sherman tank. Forest green. Automatic. 289 V8. And a cheap AM/FM stereo with after market speakers mounted on the parcel shelf behind the back seat. Awesome sound for untutored ears. Delivered diversions by Al Green, Deep Purple, David Bowie, the Eagles and the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Joe Walsh, Elton John, Queen, Harry Chapin, the Doobie Brothers… The list of performers and music goes on. Good time to be young and listening to pop music.
The Neurons disappear into 1974’s dark storage in my brain. Remember those bellbottoms? And that paisley top? Oh yeah, and the worn brown leather spur boots and the white high-top tennies painted dayglo orange on a whim? Heck, yeah. My girlfriend and I often ate at Dairy Queen. It was the only place that was close, and even it was miles away. We married the next year, after she graduated. Still together.
The Neurons come out with Elton John and “Benny and the Jets”. We loved singing that refrain with EJ, “B-b-b-b-b-Benny and the jetssssss…” So here we go, reliving the past all over again.
Sunshine and clouds are waltzing ogether. Alexa said we’ll get rain showers. The clouds look like they’re willing to back up that prediction. Coffee is settling into my 2025 body. The kid from ’74 never saw it comin’. Here we go, rocking on into another year. Cheers
The weather disappoints me. Sunshine awoke me. That’s faded. Clouds rolled in. Yesterday afternoon turned into a rain marathon. I hoped it rain itself out.
It’s not raining now. It’s just not my idea of ‘nice’. That term for weather has gained a narrower scope as I age.
Not just the weather disappointing me. Papi fractured my sleep with his complaining and in-and-out capades. “Are you getting revenge because we took you to the vet yesterday?”
The cat miaws back. Not his usual sound, which is an extended, “Eeeeppp.”
“I didn’t want to do it,” I tell him. That’s true. “It was for your own good.” Just as Mom used to tell me about almost everything upsetting me as a child.
The vet wants us to have the cat’s teeth worked on. “She’s aggressive about having his teeth worked on,” my wife says.
“She was the same with Tucker.” Tucker had all his teeth removed. “Poor Tucker.”
“He was happier after his teeth were taken out.”
Papi’s teeth estimate is $1900. It shocked us. “Should we do Papi’s teeth?” I ask.
“Let me think about it.”
That’s just how Mom used to say no.
Besides those things, recent SCOTUS rulings have me wringing my hands. Also, I read an article about how surprised financial advisors and stock brokers were that Trump actually went through with the tariffs.
“We’re stepping into the most pro-growth, pro-business, pro-American administration I’ve perhaps seen in my adult lifetime,” gushed the hedge fund manager Bill Ackman in December.
“I don’t think this was foreseeable,” a mournful Ackman posted on X on Monday. “I assumed economic rationality would be paramount.” What an odd assumption to make about a man who bankrupted casinos.
But it was foreseeable. Those of us who didn’t vote for Trump readily foresaw it.
I’m disappointed that Ackman and his kind didn’t foresee it. I’m disappointed that he didn’t believe us when we told him this was going to happen.
BTW, this is Twosda. April 8, 2025. It’s 52 F outside. Partly cloudy. It might rain.
The Neurons are playing “Lithium” by Nirvana in the morning mental music stream. The song was released in 1991. I was still a military member then. Just arrived back to the U.S. in Feb. that year after almost four years in Germany. I was assigned to Onizuka Air Station in California. Some good years were had there.
Nursing coffee, I hear a squeegee sound. The cat runs his wet pads on the door glass when he wants in. “Swqueek swqueek swqueek swqueek.” Sunshine is up. So is the wind. I let in the cat. He turns to me and says, “Merow?”
Ah, sunshine. Yesterday had the sunshine working around us in a revolving door. The changes were stark. One minute, sunshine is blazing in the windows and we’re raising the blinds to cut it. Literally the next minute found my wife asking, “What happened to the sun? It’s dark in here. Turn on the light.”
She looked out. “It’s pouring outside.”
Sitting with her book with the light on, we’re suddenly engulfed by bright light again. We both rise to look out the window. I shield my eyes. “It’s sunny again.” I lower a blind. “How long will this last?”
About three minutes, as it turned out.
That’s spring in Ashland. Probably similar in many other locales.
Today is Wenzda, April 2, 2025. It’s 38 F and sunshine is splashing off the solidly wet world. The cat feels things have regressed. Instead of trying to leave again, he’s positioned himself for a groom and nap. “Can’t trust that weather out there, can you?” I ask him.
He pauses in a mid-leg lick to swivel his ears and give me a gaze. His expression is like he’s trying to conjure the right words. “Cat got your tongue?” I ask.
That drives him back to washing.
My wife and I applauded the Wisconsin Supreme Court results last night. We also applauded Senator Booker’s record-setting filibuster. We want stronger action and are dubious about the senator’s effort and its impact. It probably flew past most people’s attention, we feel. But it may buoy a few people. Every little bit might help trigger a bigger movement and greater awareness.
Stevie Wonder is playing in the morning mental music stream. Wonder’s cover of “Yester-Me, Yester-You, Yesterday” came out in 1969. It’s catalogued in the childhood section of my mind. I don’t think I’ve heard it in a while. Even with a few swallows of coffee to encourage them, The Neurons aren’t elaborating about their choice. From the one dream remembered from last night, I don’t think it’s from that. Other Neurons suggest that it could just be association from thinking about the weather yesterday. Could be, I agree. Could also be a function of news and politics. The song does address what happened to all we had yesterday and how it’s change.
The coffee seems to be working. Heading off to get things done. Hope your day gives you a chance to feel happy, satisfied, and eager to do more. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 