Tag: rivers

Monday’s Theme Music – A Sunny Day

Ashland, Oregon, April 13, 2026.

We begin the day with rain, which is expected to continue off and on into the evening. It’s 50 now with a high of 54 F possible. Sunshine does break through, but clouds quickly rush over to block it.

It’s another Trump day. We’re now into week seven of Trump’s Iran War. Trump is blockading the Strait of Hormuz to keep it open and bring Iran to its knees after assuring us, “We won.”

The peace president continues to threaten to bomb Iran if they don’t capitulate. That’s the ‘art of the deal’ for you. It’s worked wonders so far.

The Pope’s comments about peace and the Iran war outraged the peace president. Peace president Trump blasted the Pope on crime and foreign policy, areas which Trump has demonstrated no knowledge in. That means that he assumes he knows more than anyone else, in his mind.

To complete the journey around the bend, Trump shared a social media post likening himself to Jesus. Jesus, who helped the poor and sick and counseled against wealth, greed, and rich men; and Trump, who lies, makes life more miserable for the poor and sick, whose names is almost a synonym for 21st century greed and avarice. Trump certainly remains tone deaf to irony.

Happily, over in Hungary, Viktor Orbán appears out after losing the election and conceding. I hope that’s an omen that more positive change is coming.

Today’s music is brought to me by my dreams. I went through another long one last night. Loaded with family, many of my family members were often on bicycles while I was walking or running. We mostly stayed in contact during this shambolic excursion, which was sometimes alongside a river and was mostly on a dusty road. I was young in the dream, and often sweaty. There were stops for food and eating, and beds where I sometimes stopped and rested. While doing that once, an older copy sat on the bed’s edge to rest. Remembering that I wanted to tell my sister and her husband something, I sprang up from the bed, apologizing to them for startling them. I noticed that the man looked like Alan Rickman.

I was thinking about the dream, revisualizing the part where I began running along the river, when The Neurons introduced music to the morning mental music stream. CCR came out with “Walk on the Water” after John Fogarty’s brother died from a blood transfusion. The song makes sense to me because it’s about being near home.

Late last night, I went for a walk
Down by the river near my home
Couldn’t believe, with my own eyes
And I swear I’ll never leave my home again

Hope peace and grace lift you up and carry you through all your adversity and troubles.

We’re off to do Food & Friends deliveries.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music –

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, April 2, 2026.

Cold morning with sunshine glinting off a wet ground. Thirty-five F. High will be about 55 F. Most trees remain bare branched. Blued white smoke boils out of planned fires in the mountains.

Friends were telling me last night that NOAA has put out a warning for Oregon rivers. Our extended snow-drought is going to cause water levels to drop on the rivers. That will really slice into the outdoor tourism industry in southern Oregon.

A friend passed away the other day. We just learned of it last night. 88, he’s been ill since I met him in 2007. A Republican and Trump supporter, he and I didn’t socialize much, and his illness kept him at home except for medical treatments for the last six years. Strange that he’s a Trumper, as he’s intelligent and compassionate. I never thought of him as racist, but he hated Affirmative Action. He called reverse discrimination. This was one of the many things we disagreed about. Still, his wife is a very nice person, and his son — a Republican — has worked hard with my friend to help the homeless. RIP, Bill.

Mom is quiet again, but she is applying for a senior living apartment. She’d have her own place and live by herself. I’m not enthralled with the idea, but she and my sisters like it. We’ll see what happens next.

Speaking of what happens, Trump gave a dud of a speech about the war with Iran he started. Meandering, he offered vague assertions about winning without clarification about what was won. He basically claims, ‘we’re safer now’ but doesn’t offer any facts to back that up. He also said that he might bomb Iran more. Why, if we’re safer now?

Today’s song comes from Todd Rundgren. “I Saw the Light” is in the morning mental music stream. I don’t know why. It doesn’t relate to anything from the dream side of things. Released in 1972, it was part of the radio rotation for a few years but never really spoke to me.

Hope your day is going well. May you flourish in the times to come.

Cheers


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The Port Dream

This was a dream about port, the fortified wine drink. A very expensive bottle of port had turned up missing from its crate. The owners were the U.S. government. CIA, I think. I didn’t know who took it but I quickly realized where it was. The bottle had been sent to offer samples to people at a function. I met with the agent, a blond, white male, clean shaved, tousled hair, average height, casual clothes, and relayed what I’d learned. He told me it was critical to recover that bottle. I told him that I would get it back.

A strange car journey in a Ford Thunderbird convertible (a 1965, I think, which was what my father owned) followed, a circuitous route that embraced old steel girder bridges over ravines and rivers, a bumpy, dusty lane, a winding country highway, and a modern American Interstate. I always knew where I was going but detours kept coming up. Fair weather and certainty kept me calm, though.

I arrived at the function, where a gathering of women was about to open the bottle to sample it. I intervened, telling them they’d been sent the wrong bottle and producing another bottle for their benefit. The agent arrived to take the bottle from me. We then agreed we would go to the river. A few others joined us enroute, including a female acquaintance of mine, a young white woman with a round face and a short, black bob. The agent told me to open the bottle. That confused the woman. She protested that it was supposed to be a protected bottle, according to her understanding. I replied, that was a different time. Circumstances had shifted and we were approved to open the bottle to sample it.

I turned to the agent for confirmation. After talking about it with me and thinking more, he agreed with me. We opened the bottle and poured small portions into fine, small glasses. Toasting, we drank.

Dream end.

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A Turbulent Dream

Wow, what a dream.

Featuring swollen brown rivers, hill people, and my wife and I as we search for a new house, the dream was very strange.

Brown swollen rivers flowed everywhere. I had the sense that they surrounded us. When I looked in some directions, the rivers seemed higher than the land and moved like fat, sinuous dragons. While they never overflowed, they hampered and guided our movement by their presence.

Meanwhile, my wife and I sought a new house. We had pages of listings, seventeen in all. But as I visited the houses, I discovered they vastly over-promised, were overpriced, and underwhelmed. After seeing the first one (alone), I found my wife and told her, “Don’t go to it. It’s a waste.” Then, talking almost to myself, I said, “I hope the others are better.” My doubts were high that they were.

I kept losing my wife and finding her. This was against a backdrop of lurking, spying, menacing mountain people out of Deliverance. If you’re not familiar with the reference, read the James Dickey novel, or see the movie starring Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds, Ned Beatty, and Ronny Cox.

Eventually, concerned with the rivers and the people I’m encountering, who are growing more aggressive and belligerent, and disappointed with the houses, I look for my wife and develop plans to get us out of there. Extricating ourselves isn’t easy, and drains my energy and concentration, but eventually, we put the land behind us.

It was an intense dream.

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