Friday’s Theme Music

Mood:

Rain claims the sky again. May not stay. Bursts break out of clouds, and then the sun breaks show with a flash of light. Brisk winds burst through the valley, shaking the trees and sending shivers through my knees, before rain kisses us again.

This is spring. This is Friday, March 29, 2024. It’s 50 F and several y’s are present — sunny-cloudy-rainy-windy-chilly. Think we’re within 2, 3 degrees of the thermometer’s upper level for this March day. Snow comes and leaves on the northern and eastern peaks over the last three days. How’s the weather in your life zone?

First, a floof update. Tucker continues a trouble-free recovery. I knocked off the opiates. Just thought he was being over medicated. He’s eating, sleeping, and moving well. I make him a cup of grain-free kibble softened with hot water, and he dives into a bowl like an osprey coming down from the sky on a hunt. After eating today, he gently washed his face and paws before tucking back into nap position. Fingers crossed that this all continues.

The Neurons loaded “Alone” by Heart into the morning mental music stream (Trademark plummeting). The song was invited into the MMMS by the line, “No answer on the telephone.”

I’d called a friend. No answer. No voice mail or answering machine. Seems ominous.

I talked to the cats about it (they were the only ones around). They agreed with me, no answer on a telephone call is surreal in this era. Some mechanized or e-response is typical if a live voice isn’t heard. But to hear the ringing continue…strange. I called again to ensure I had the number correct. I let it ring until twenty rings had filled the air. Twenty rings, an absurd amount, before giving up.

The song commenced in the MMMS a few seconds after I relayed my experience to the floofies. We — me and The Neurons — went from there. Personally, I always enjoyed the hard rock ballad. Then again, I seem drawn to hard rock ballads. Could be that they appeal to my romantic side, or the solitude inculcated by my work and travel draws me to that sort of music.

Persist to be positive and strong, lean forward toward progress and a better future, and Vote Blue. Coffee has caffeinated my brain cells, so I’m good to go. Here’s the music. Oh, wait, it’s sunny again, and the wind has become a friendly zephyr. For now.

Now it’s cloudy. Wind is beating the coffee shop umbrella. Rain veils are crossing the mountains.

Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: hopeful

We’ve begun streaming daylight. It’s Friday in Ashlandia, where the winds are kicking the trees around and the sun is acting tired, September 22, 2023. The cats are like, “Who turned the wind on? Find them and turn it off or kill them.” It’ll be 79 F today, although we’re at 59F now. First day of fall, according to the net, so you know it’s true. No leaves have revealed their autumn colors in my realm yet.

Brekkie is made and being consumed, and the coffee is ready, waiting for its turn. My hot water has been drunk. I’ve been drinking hot water first AM thing since I was about nineteen years old. We acquired the habit because of the Edgar Cayce readings. We were big fans. Still are.

First, an update to my sister’s cancer surgery. Removing her rectum took three hours and was successful but painful. She’s in hospital now. Was on morphine yesterday for the pain. I imagine she is on something today. She has eaten oatlmeal and French toast for breakfast. Our new family mantra is no chemo and reversed by November. She’ll be in the hospital for a week. The clock has begun.

The phone rang at 6:45 AM. My wife was up, getting ready for her exercise class but Tucker and I were purring in bed, and halfway spilled into sleep. Realizing the time, my parents’ health and age, my sister’s surgery, and other matters, I rolled out of bed and raced for the phone. Point of order, we don’t have a phone in the bedroom. I keep my cell in the office, and we still have standard cordless phones running on VOIP. I’ve had that since 2008. That’s what was ringing

So I ran down the hall. Two rings had finished. After four rings, it goes to voicemail so I needed to get there before the fourth ring ended.

But my wife had grabbed the office phone. I heard her answer and veered that way. As I went in, my wife said, “Here he is,” and put the phone toward me. I was trying to read her face when she said, “It’s the flower people.”

Relief and confusion. My wife and I ordered flowers yesterday for my sister to be delivered today. I had my sister’s phone number wrong. Extra digit. I took care of it and went back to Tucker. We snooze well together.

Today’s song is “Fix You” by Coldplay. You know, because it’s about trying to mend others who are sick or hurt. So, I pulled it up for my sister and all those others suffering diseases like cancer, or injuries, or whatever problem, mental, emotional, physical. I wish I had the power to fix others. Instead, I try to send positive energy to them, zapping them like it’s an extremely accurate healing ray.

So here is Coldplay, with guests Billie Eilish and Finneas. Stay pos, be strong, endure, and progress. The coffee has been tested, and the results are exemplary. Time to stream the day. Cheers

The Update

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.

The Waves Dream

I was at a rocky coast. Seemed basalt, reminding me of the central Oregon coast I recently visited around Yachats. Lots of huge rocks worn into curves, gullies, and humps by constant wave action.

Waves would crash on the beach behind me, sending streams of water up the through rocky gaps. The slopes made walking treacherous. I worried about sliding down in the water and also about getting smacked down by waves.

A couple – man and woman – were following me. They weren’t chasing me or anything, just going in the same direction. As I went through, I saw a short window set into the rock. The frame was yellow but the window itself was green. It was short but wide. I jumped up, thinking I’d hold onto the frame and peer through. When I grabbed the frame, it came right out of the rock. The place where it was set closed with rock. I put the window on the rock and went on. Looking back, I saw the couple behind me putting the window back into the rock. I wondered how they did that.

Continuing on, I worried that high tide was coming in. Concerns about becoming trapped rising, I moved on with more urgency as the rock walls became steeper. Studying the waters and their patterns, I realized that the tide was going out. Yet, when I turned to leave the area, waves rushed in. The walls were steep. I was forced to scramble but made it after some arduous climbing and jumping. Getting out of there, I looked back and saw the large basalt rocks shrank, becoming much smaller and flatter.

Dream end

Most Disturbing

Our local disaster, the Almeda Fire of earlier this month, issues numerous disturbing points for anyone who thinks about cause, effect, and results.

  1. To summarize, ours isn’t the worst disaster of the fire season. Not the largest, nor longest burning. Fast and brutal, it destroyed a few Ashland homes (my town, about two miles from my house). Then, egged on by high winds, it went north and west and destroyed two small neighboring towns, Talent and Phoenix, and terrorized Medford. Thousands of structures were destroyed. Thousands of people are displaced.
  2. While the fire was being fought, water ran out. The fire hydrants literally ran out of water. Multiple and simultaneous demands killed water pressure. That lack of water pressure meant first, no more water to fight fires, and second, potentially contaminated several towns’ drinking water. Boil warnings were issued.
  3. We have sirens and emergency systems set up in Jackson County and Ashland. Neither were used. Why? As the fire spread, evacuation orders were issued for one neighborhood. The entire city (and the county) was put on Level 1 evacuation orders, which means, be ready to go. But the Sheriff didn’t want the emergency warnings used; he didn’t want to cause panic. So instead of using those two systems, they did nothing. We were left in an information vacuum.
  4. Spectrum’s internet (and cable TV and landline systems) went down. A major cable burned through. Those of us still with Internet were able to log on. Facebook, and a local community group, became the most valued source of information. This was basically done by monitoring other cities and towns’ emergency orders to pass on to Ashlanders what was happening. That group, which already did a great job, is now asking, what can we do better? Love the proactive approach.
  5. Cell phone capability was compromised as the fire burned down several regional cell towers.
  6. The unscathed rallied to help the survivors. Money, food, clothing, batteries, telephone chargers, water, etc., were donated.
  7. Most of the money donated through the United Way and the Red Cross remain tied up in bureaucracy. Want help? Go to them. People who’ve lost everything were being directed to go hunt down the Red Cross and United Way and apply for help.
  8. Red Cross did set up at the Expo Center, where other agencies were set up. Here’s a classic tale, though. A man got onto Facebook and told the Red Cross there, hey, we don’t have transportation. We can’t get to you. Their response: call the national hotline. The national hotline’s response: call your local chapter. A local Red Cross worker finally woke up and said, I’ll get you help. It shouldn’t be so damn hard, though.
  9. Meanwhile, FEMA has become a joke. Their guidance is to apply. Then, if you’re turned down, apply again. And if you’re turned down again, keep applying until you’re approved.
  10. How fucking broken is FEMA that their standard operating procedure seems to be to initially reject people but, you know, keep trying. Savage, especially for people who have lost everything, their paperwork, clothing, and the mobile and manufactured homes that they lived in. They were already just hanging on, keeping their heads high enough to avoid being sucked under, and this agency, established to help survivors after a disaster, prove to be inept and bungling. Infuriating.
  11. *snark alert* One noble local business, a storage place, told their renters that everyone needs to come in and clean up their space. By the way, they’re still charging the full amount for the month. Sounds like good fucking people, right?
  12. Should write about the animals, but don’t want to. It’s painful. Many people prize their animals above everything else. Now they’re scrambling to find them. Animals are being found, fed, treated, etc. Communities have been set up online to share photos, sightings, descriptions, etc. It’s a huge, sprawling mess, though. There must be a way to do it better. I end up getting diverted, looking through descriptions of lost pets and thinking, I saw that animal listed on another page, didn’t I? Then I go looking, usually without success.
  13. Some pets have been re-united, and those are noted as success. It’s also noted when animals have crossed the rainbow bridge.
  14. The photos of singed, burnt surviving animals rip your guts, you know?
  15. Think of all the services that you use. Gas, water, trash pickup, electric, banking, credit cards, phone, Internet. All needed to be called to be told, “Hello, my home burned down.” In the case of Internet, gas, and electric, they needed to be told, shut off those services and please don’t charge me. For banking and credit cards, it was sometimes, watch for fraud or send me new cards.
  16. A bright spot emerged from the local restaurants. Many locally owned places in Ashland said, you need a meal, come in and tell us, no charge, no questions asked. We’re here for you. A few made hundreds of meals and went off to the evacuation points and served them. Other businesses, schools, and churches set their parking lots up as socially distanced places where people can park and sleep, opening up their restrooms and showers (when available) for people to use 24/7.

There is more, but you know, that’s enough for one September Saturday. Be safe. Enjoy your day. Take care.

And please wear your damn mask.

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