Tag: rain

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Youngishfeelin’

I checked the outside. Sunshine and blue sky. No clouds in any direction. This Friday, 1/20/2024, seemed like a spring day. 37 F around my place, it’s 43 in another part of town, and 51 in the field down by the ScienceWorks. Today’s high will be 49, I’m told. Your experience in this town might be different. I made a mental note to see if we’d received any snow in Ashlandia this winter and compare it to the historic records.

Alexa greeted me with news of four notifications. Rain was expected tonight at 9 PM, a dense fog warning had been issued for Ashlandia, a stagnant air advisory was out for the region, and Felon Trump will not get any punishments for his conviction. Alexa asked me if I wanted to hear more about that last story. “No, I don’t want a reminder of how our justice system and election process failed our democracy,” I replied. “I don’t understand your answer,” Alexa answered. “Many don’t,” I said. “Many don’t.”

Today’s song is “Used to Be Young” by Miley Cyrus from 2023. Pretty good summary of the shifts many of us experience, I heard it on the car radio several days ago. The Neurons keep singing snatches of it since until it ended up dominating my morning mental music stream (Trademark old).

Reflecting on a dream I had, I shouldn’t have been too surprised about the song being in the MMMS. The dream was about being younger, too. Did the music influence the dream, or was it the other way? Or were both responding to some other wishing well inside me. Yeah, chuckle.

Here’s the music. Coffee and I are friendly again. Time to rock through another day. Hope yours is a good one.

Oh, look, fog has arrived and hides the sun. Don’t worry, I think it’s gonna change. Cheers

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Fogda’s Theme Music

Mood: brandnufogncoffee

We’ve slipped into foggy bottom or foggy bottom slipped over us. Fogda, Jan. 6, 2025. 40 degrees F, sunshine has taken some time away, apparently, giving us over to clouds and rain. 56 F is the projected high. An air stagnation advisory has been slapped on us.

Yesterday turned into fine, sunshiny day. Of course, we were slightly out of town for most of the afternoon, and in a slighter higher elevation, visiting our friends for a party. Good cast of characters, and the house is beautiful. The owner joked that it was a two-bedroom five two hundred square foot home with five fireplaces. Main house had a beautiful small living room and a large living room which used to be the original owner’s home movie theater. That was a natural for that original owner as he owned a chain of movie theaters. Finances crashed and he quit using the house during COVID. The owner related that everything had quit working and they needed to repair and replace multiple things when they bought the home. But they did the job and it showed. There’s also a .5 acre fishing pond, heated pool, a separate artist studio, two-bedroom guest house with a two-car garage, and an RV parking garage with space for three RVs, which cracks up the current owner. “Definitely something we don’t need,” he said. It’s about eight minutes out of Ashlandia. A hallway off the foyer has his and hers coat closets, along with a guest closet.

Papi continues losing fur at a startling rate. He’s not going bald or anything; fur keeps growing in to replace it. We don’t know what’s going on. His appetite is good, he’s as perky and conversant as ever, and he looks good. We keep thinking, must be the weather, but he’s never done this before. We eye him for signs of things going amiss. If it’s there, we’re missing it.

Today’s song was born out of texts swapped between Mom, me, and a sis in the Pittsburgh, PA, region. They had snow coming down, impeding traffic, limiting outdoor options. The Neurons took the opportunity to start “Snow (Hey Oh)” by Red Hot Chili Peppers in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blizzard). The 2005 song is about getting a fresh start. Hey, it’s kinda still a new year, new month, new day, and a new government administration in the U.S. Okay, I kind of choked on that last one. I’ve always enjoyed this hard rocker. Easy to follow and sing along. And hey, it’s also about surviving, so there we go.

Be chill and don’t thrill. Coffee and I ran into each in the kitchen and swapped some spit. Hey ho, listen to what I say yo, it’s a fresh new day. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Satrda’s Theme Music

Mood: Sleepsatisfied

It’s the fourth day of the year, Jan 4, 2025. Satrda. 38 degrees F. Cloudy. Blue sky has been banished. The meek, subservient sun does little to warm and light us. We’re prepped for another day of rain with a high of 48 F. But, corresponding with my sister in Plum, PA, it’s not bad. They received a few issues of snow yesterday and then dealt with a snow squall. Monday is forecasted to be a heavy and cold snowy day for her. She’s worrying about patients canceling and travel issues. So, rainy and gloomy will suffice.

Today’s music is “Green Tambourine” by the Lemon Pipers. Came out in 1968. I was twelve. The song became a hit and was rotated on all the regular pop stations heard on transistor radios and car radios. With all that exposure, I remember it well. Don’t know why it’s in my morning mental music stream (Trademark old). I slept heavily last night after feeling pretty gloomy yesterday evening. Didn’t have any cat visitations that I know of. No wind or wife disrupted my Zzzs. No need for visiting the bathroom during the night, and nothing amiss with my foot and ankle broke into my sleep. Only one dream floats around my noggin, and tambourines aren’t featured. The song just rose up as I went about opening blinds on another dull day, feeding cats, and making breakfast and coffee.

I enjoyed this video. Such a black and white throwback, including a sexist commercial for ‘Neet’ hair removal cream. Look how young Dick Clark appears. Check out the clothes and dancing. Trippy.

Coffee and I are doing our daily two-step. Hope your weather and fates are kind to you wherever you are. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Grrrrumpy

It’s raining again. Alexa notified me at 8 PM (or 2000 hours if you prefer) that it was going to start raining near me, starting around 12 AM and going intermittently until 8 PM. About 1.3 inches of rain was expected.

I was listening to the rain hitting the roof, pinging off the vents, splattering the windows, and asked, “Is it raining now?”

“Rain is expected to start at 9:30 PM.”

“Alexa, feedback. It’s 8 PM and it’s raining now.”

Rainy, gray, it’s warmish again, 50 F with a high of 52 F suggested and a low of 46 F. The gray light slanting in through the windows does nada to brighten my mood. Fog swirls around mountain pines and peaks. Dark and pretty in a tragic “Wuthering Heights” sort of fashion.

A perusal of news headlines has me opimistic for 2025. (Yes, that was snark.) Things like the costs of owning and driving a car are jumping. This was a California story. The average price paid for a new car was over $47K. Now it’s jumped to over $52K. And insurance is climbing as well. Again, it’s California, but what happens in California usually ripples out. And, this is before any PINO Trump tariffs are issued.

Then a jolly story covered how the Alum Rock school district is closing or consolidating schools. Oh, boy, let me quit reading that.

Another story told me eggs, already pricy, are going up because of the bird flu. And a related news article informed me that animals were dying from being infected with the bird flu from eating tainted meat.

Next came a recounting that those anti-vaxxing efforts in Louisana are having an effect. Louisana is seeing cases of the flu climb. Surprised? No. They’re one of two states in a ‘Very High ILI’ category. The other state is…Oregon.

What? My state. WTF? Chasing that down, I learn, gosh, vaccinations for COVID-19, RSV, and the flu are trailing data from last year, which was already trailing data from the year before. So the flu, etc., are up.

Grrrrrreat. Yes, that is sarcasm.

I got out of the news before I turned to the national and international scenes. Mood was cratered enough, thanks.

The Neurons already had music picked out and going in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sagging). “Forty Days and Forty Nights” is a 1956 blues number by Muddy Waters. The Neurons had it in my head solely on the line, “Sun shinin’ all day long, but the rain keep falling down.” Yes, it hasn’t been forty solid days if I judge on empirical evidence; it just feels like it to the wife, me, and others who engage in conversations about the weather. The ground is saturated. Rivers and creeks are up. Flooding is possible. On the possy side, our drought seems over for our part of Oregon. Other parts of the state remain abnormally dry.

Could be worse, I remind myself. We are not snowbound, etc.

The Forty Days version I selected was a Steppenwolf cover. Mom bought me the album, Steppnwolf 7, for Christmas in 1970, when the song and I were both fourteen. It has sentimenal attachments to me, see.

Okay, coffee and I have worked out an arrangement for this morning whereby I’ll brew it and pour it into my mouth and swallow. Seems like I’m doing all the work here, but I benefit from it. I don’t think coffee gets anything except perhaps some emotional satisfaction from helping me through the day. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

Mood: Decembristism

It was a dark and gloomy night but dawn broke as a bright, sunshiny day. Rain clouds knifed in during the intervening hours between now and then, thwarting the sun’s stalwart efforts to give us light and heat. Today is Frida, December 27, 2024. We’re surfing a 54 degrees F day, which t’aint a bad temperatures. The winds that scoured us last night have retreated. A kittenish breeze teases the trees.

Dreams rocked my night. All of ’em were quite personally oriented. Awakening from them had me thinking long and hard about them and what they meant, if anything. That’s often the issue with dreams: any meanings which your brain could be sharing gets wrapped and warped by confusing elements. Do they mean something, or are they just neurons gaming your consciousness?

Ran into a friend this morning. Well, not literally; we encountered on another. We’d not seen each other since October. I may’ve mentioned in posts here that I had ankle surgery in October and then immobolized by the recovery process. He didn’t know that and wondered where I’d been. I presented him a situation précis, with the main point being, that’s life. Afterward, walking away, The Neurons brought up a Dire Straits fave of theirs, “The Walk of Life”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark aging). I originally associated the song with sports, especially baseball. Listening more closely, I recognized that it was about someone singing songs, and several references to rock and roll songs are heard throughout. An interview with Knopfler, the singer, songwriter, and guitarist behind the song, later confirmed this. Now I associate the song with anyone trying to make good through strife, keeping on toward a goal. This is life; you do the walk.

Days of 2024 vintage are trickling away. 2025 is coming up like a full moon over the trees. Time to rock on one more time. Here we go with the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music.

Today is Thursday, December 26, 2024. Five more days to the year. A year stamped with historic and personal significance. Wonder how 2025 will compare at this time next year.

Gray. Rainy. Chilly. Call it 44 F. Light rain. This is winter in Ashlandia. Snow hugs things above three or four thousand feet, looks like at a glance. Down here, we’re stuck in the gray. Sunshine muted through gray clouds from mountain to mountain to mountain. Gray clouds as far as I can see, looking down into the valley. And rain.

Yes, I’m complaining.

The cats are not, however. After a night of howling wind and incessant rain, Papi dragged in his wet Butter Butt and found a warm space to sleep off the day. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) had already set the example, staying in, finding a comfy zone, nodding into slumber.

Late post as I spent the morning writing. One of those days when the muses arrived early. The house was quiet and the coffee was hot, so. Seated myself at the laptop and added 2,500 words. Excited by the twist added. See if it stands revision, editing, and further thinking.

Today’s music selection was made by The Neurons after a friend’s comment yesterday. A decade older than moi, she’s not known for her colorful language. But there she was making a risque, off-color comment at the Christmas bash. As we reacted and laughed, she turned as red as Santa’s outfit. Net result: The Neurons have “Dirty Mind” by the brilliant Prince playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark filthy).

Well, deep breath. Dredge up some positive energy. Here we go again. Let’s start with the music. Cheers

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Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeelifted

We’ve punched into Sa’day, 12/14/24. The line for Ashlandia’s day is 41/46/36, meaning current-high-low. But my system’s reading informs me it’s 39 in our cut of existence. Rain is falling. It commenced yesterday and didn’t let up. Hungry gray clouds have descended, eating off the mountain and tree tops like a parent going after their kids’ holiday chocolate.

Wising up to the weather, Papi is demonstrating a willingness to be flexible about going in and out, doing less of that, opting into remaining in warm, dry shelter, i.e., le house. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) shows little interest in answering the question, “What’s the weather like out there?” He’s more inclined toward floofosphical questions like, “What’s in that bowl? What are you eating? Can I have some? Why aren’t you giving me any?” He asks these questions with bright-eyed optimism and rapt adoration. You know how it usually ends.

Went to a gospel holiday concert last night. Ashlandia’s Rogue Valley Symphony collaborated with with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival to put on a concert at the Bowmar Theater. The Florida State University Gospel Choir and their three-piece travelin’ combo — bass, drums, keyboards — were invited in, along with a soloist named Marques Jerrell Ruff. By happenstance, I ended up seated by the night’s sponsor, the guy who gave them the upfront funds to make this happen. He’s done a lot of good philanthropy work in our small town. For instance, if you ever visit Ashlanda and visit the plaza, you can check out the mural of our sister city that he and his wife commissioned. It was pleasant chatting with him about his good deeds and some mutual friends we admire.

Portion of the Guanajuato mural in Ashland, Oregon.

The concert was uplifting and fun. I definitely recommend it. Mr. Ruff and the FSU Choir are amazing singers and awesome entertainers.

It’s been a busy week and it ain’t over. Tonight is the annual Swedish Smörgåsbord at a friend’s house. Tomorrow is the Santa Claus brunch at Callahan’s on Mount Ashland. My ankle is handling most of this well, although I do reach a point toward the end where I’m ready to rip off my shoe and sock and elevate that puppy. Haven’t done that yet, despite the temptation, principally because my wife would kill me if I did.

Jill Dennison inspired The Neurons for today’s music choice. Jill is a prolific, intelligent, and insightful blogger. I admire her thinking and principles, and we frequently exchange comments. She apologized for her mood in one recent post. The Neurons responded by placing Nirvana singing “All Apologies” from 1993 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). So, here’s to you, Jill.

I met coffee on a blind date in the kitchen this morning. Now I’m singing its praises. Hope your day is as excellent as circumstances allow. Here’s the music. Cheers

1

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: temperate

It’s another Friday. This one is December 13, 2024, which triggers some, especially if they’re Knights Templars. But I’m not one and I’m not bothered by the date. Except, there’s less than two weeks until Christmas, if that’s your celebrating avenue. More importantly, the end is near — the end of the year, that is.

Today’s white blob of a sky blends in over the mountain and tree tops, fuzzying our edges and spitting on the eastern windows. Temperature is 42 F and as with yesterday, we’re just four degrees of separation from our high. Unlike yesterday, which morphed into a pleasant autumn day with wintry overtones, a brisk wind is moaning the blues, prompting a high-wind advisory.

Papi the ginger blade despairs of this wind. He beat at the door as soon as it rose. Fattened by brekkie and at least floofmentarily aware of the wind, he’s stretched out in the living room, a pretty orange and white furry binkie.

Several politically-connected matters caught my eye. One, Andy Borowitz put his humorous spin on Hegseth as Drumpf’s nominee to head Defense: “Hegseth Offers to Connect Breathalyzer to Nuclear Arsenal”. Feels hysterically funny because there’s too much truth in it. The second item was one pointed out by on Scottie’s Playground: Study: Republicans Respond to Political Polarization by Spreading Misinformation, Democrats Don’t. Some of us reacted, yes, and water tends to be wet. To see it hardwired as actual study results is satisfying because it underscores our observations that the modern American right wing can’t handle the truth and make shit up.

Finally, also out of Scottie’s Playground, is a tale of Not Good News in Florida. “Earlier this fall, Florida officials ordered transgender women in the state’s prisons to submit to breast exams. As part of a new policy for people with gender dysphoria, prison medical staff ranked the women’s breast size using a scale designed for adolescents. Those whose breasts were deemed big enough were allowed to keep their bras. Everyone else had to surrender theirs, along with anything else considered “female,” such as women’s underwear and toiletry items.”

Yes, we know that besides making shit up when they feel threatened, American Republicans tend to become crueler and treat others who aren’t like them with greater contempt and inhumanity. They’re such a misguided, fact-aversion, hate-filled, group of lying fantasists. If we had greater involvement and better critical thinking from more voting-age Americans, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But a large swath of indifference and lethargy has given power to fools, and all of us will suffer.

I have a weird song in the morning mental music stream (Trademark dated). “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter” originally came out in 1935, twenty-one years before my birth. It’s literally been around all my life and then some. The Neurons inserted it into the mmms after a dream in which I wrote myself a letter and then mailed it. A busy dream night, all I remember of that dream is that I as a young teen wrote myself a letter and posted it on a sunny day. Then this song begun. It’s been covered by two and a half gazillion performers. I have females and males singing it in the mmms because this was one of those songs Mom often played on her stereo hi-fi, and she sang along to it. I just surfed the net for a version which I like. Hope you know the song and like it. So here’s the late Jeff Healey with his cover. Jeff Healey and his band were in the movie Road House staring Patrick Swayze, Sam Elliott, Kelly Lynch, and Ben Gazzara in 1989.

Rain is spitting on the western windows now, and the wind’s mutterings have turned louder, angrier, and more prolonged. Coffee and I have made our daily agreement. Here’s the music. Cheers

3

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: darkcoffeefresh

I was hoping for a sunny day outside my window. But it’s raining again. And there ain’t no sunshine.

It’s October’s final Monday. The month’s 28th day. Still 2024 for just over two more months.

Rain keeps a light, steady background staccato to the morning rituals. Clouds from mountain to mountain rule outside my window. Mountain tops wear gothic lighting as they fade behind sullen gray moisture-bearing behemoths. While it’s 42 F now, it feels like 48 F, which is the day’s hopeful high. This is this week’s weather prototype.

The cats send mixed signals about the season’s new weather setup. Papi the ginger blade goes out and endures on the covered patio in his carpeted condo. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) goes out for a test and nixes an extended stay, arthritically humping back into house’s warm offerings. Eventually Papi will beat on the door and return inside and then head to a sleeping position to pass the day. That’s become his new pattern.

Fun fact: on this day in 1886, the Statue of Liberty was unveiled. Yeah, I didn’t know; just saw it in my feed.

Another fun fact to offer: crowds didn’t stay for Trump’s speech last week in PA. The article also states, “He bizarrely walked out on stage to the Undertaker’s WWE funeral theme music, while wearing a black hat and coat.”

Yep, just the weird guy to be the POTUS.

He also lamented poor Abe Lincoln’s loss of Ted during Lincoln’s presidency. Ted: the forgotten Lincoln boy. His supporters of course, insisted that we give him a break, because he was close enough to knowing that it was Willie who died while Lincoln was in the White House.

That’s his supporters’ style: give him a break for being ‘close enough’ to things. Meanwhile, they demand perfection of Kamala Harris. Hypocrisy’s stench covers the GOP.

The Neurons are feeding me Pink Floyd as the gray light floods and stills over the day. They have “Brain Damage/Eclipse” looping the morning mental music stream (Trademark cut). I’ve always had a fondness for these songs, the first about the lunatic, the second about everything under the sun.

[Verse: Roger Waters]
All that you touch
And all that you see
All that you taste
All you feel
And all that you loved
And all that you hate
All you distrust
All you save
And all that you give (All you give)
And all that you deal (Woah)
And all that you buy
Beg, borrow, or steal (Hey-hey)
And all you create
And all you destroy (Woah)
And all that you do
And all that you say (Hey, yeah)
And all that you eat
And everyone you meet (Everyone you meet)
And all that you slight
And everyone you fight (Ho-ho-ho)
And all that is now
And all that is gone
And all that’s to come
And everything under the sun is in tune (Everything)
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

h/t to Genius.com

They do go hand in hand with thoughts of Trump these days. He’s always talking up hating, enemies, and destroying, along with everyone he meets, while we speak of all that he begs, borrows, and steals. He’s the con of the deal, the madman on the stage, offering trinkets to support him, riffing on fake history, making vainglorious claims. Really, though, the enemy within is the enemy in his head.

The cats are in and my coffee is snuggling into my body’s systems. Be strong, remain positive, and vote blue. My wife dropped off our votes at the ballot box this morning. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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Nosunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Chillsunsational

It was a morning of listening: that sounds like rain. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) at hand we burrowed deeper between warm covers. Another noise struck my attention: ah, the heat was on. Sleep was waving me in for another go-around when a more familiar sound rolled over my eardrums.

Papi wanted in.

Activity associated with letting Papi in served to trigger Tucker’s appetite. Jumping down, he barked in a loud scratchy meow, “Breakfast.” Catching on and always the opportunist, Papi yelled, “Me, too.” So that was it. Time to rise and face Sunday, October 27, 2024.

Reminder for most ‘Mericans: we do as Cher urges, more or less, and turn back the hour next Sunday.

It’s a bleak Nosunday outside the windows. One fat lazy cloud has claimed the sky with a gray cloak. Rain has lessened its profusive flow and now spits at us with a little contemptuous attitude. The temperature hunkers at 51 F. Never fear, as it’s destined to climb to 52 F. They tell us that it feels like 56 F. That’s a tiny comfort.

Need I mention that the cats went out and returned quick as a cat. Papi did it three times, per the Interflooftional Standards for In & Out. The standards state that once is a floofcident, twice is a cofloofcident, but three times is a trend.

With the rain chilling our vibes, I kicked on the gas fireplace. A survey followed to check how the rain fell. It was my contention that no rain hit any window. A thanks is owed to our wide eaves and covered porches for that. But back in the living room with my observation confirmed, coffee joined me, and I watched the fireplace.

“Fire & Rain.” The Neurons began it forthwith in my morning mental music stream (Trademark damp). I’d featured the James Taylor song back in 2017. In that post, I mentioned how I associated it with a young crush on a girl named Susie. Wonder what she’s up to these years? Will she vote for Harris or Trump? She was intelligent and intent on a college path. Her mother, who I met briefly twice, came across as an energetic progressive, but you know. People’s opinions and voting preferences change. Sometimes they skew with unexpected directions and impulses.

Be strong, remain pos, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee is doing its utmost to keep me warm and energized. Here is the music. Cheers

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