Sunshine and thunderstorms are today’s specials. Toaster waffles are on the breakfast plate. Coffee on the side.
It was cool today, Thursday, May 18, 2023, but it’s warming. Started at 54 F. Now 67 F on its way to 84 F. Sun shooed night out before six AM. Night will push back tonight around 8:15 PM.
We’re still holding our breaths about election results. Measure 15-214, which I voted against, is failing at the moment, but it’s by less than 1%. Like many issues, we’re narrowly divided around here.
We’re also celebrating the case against Rudy Giuliani, worrying about fires in Canada and flooding in Italy, and despairing about too many things to write about.
For today’s theme music, I decided to ignore The Neurons’ input and go with the splashy Eurovision winner, “Tattoo” by Lorreen. It’s a dramatic, interesting song and video, catches attention and doesn’t let up. It’s a love song, but not sunny love, a reflection of the modern realization that emotions are tangled and hard to control.
Time to eat and drink up. Stay pos and champion yourself. Here’s the music. Cheers
Delicious weather in Ashlandia today. Spring at its best. 67 F at the mo, 75% humidity. 88 F expected later, and thunderstorms. Yesterday was delightful, too, relaxing, comforting, an invitation to sit and enjoy yourself for a while. It’s so floofriendly. Tucker has settled but open doors and happy weather invites Papi to prance in and out. He steals up to me, stares up, gets an ear rub from moi, then dashes out, only to return. Sometimes I chase and hide, which he loves doing.
The election is over. We await the outcome. 15-214, which absorbed our attention and discussion, is predictably tight but votes are still being counted.
Today’s music fell into my lap. I’d been sent a video link about tiny computers a teacher was asking my beer group to buy for their class. This video was off to the right. “Two of Us” from 1969 is by the Beatles. The song is pretty lazy but I enjoyed the footage of the lads from Liverpool and others laughing, joking, talking. Nostalgia caught The Neurons, so here we are.
And the coffee has arrived to great cheering from the body and its various elements. Most vociferous cheering is heard from the brain, where neurons are stamping their feet, chanting, “Coffee, coffee, coffee.” The foot stamping is off-putting to the ears, who are gesturing with annoyance at the brain. But in general, it’s a festive air.
Stay pos. Assess, adjust, advance. Here’s the tune. Cheers
It’s election day in the U.S., one more time. The culmination of hopes, dreams, ideas, complaints, arguments, debates, and discussions about spending, revenue, who is charge, and what’s going to happen next but on a smaller scale than then ‘national’ elections.
They, the omniscient bureaucrats, put it into motion years ago and now we are here, on Tuesday, May 16, 2023. Ashlandia is enjoying lovely sprummer weather. Top temps struck 88 in my slice of the realm yesterday. Late afternoon showers put a damper on that. Timer and settings were for set for four minutes and light to moderate, so that rain was gone almost before you could smell the petrichor. Then thunder boomers commenced. Tucker was unbothered but Papi did a concerned low to the ground jog into the house, sitting down by me to keep him safe. Poor fellow.
It’s 62 F now, 8:30 in the AM. The usual routines have been fulfilled. Coffee is brewed and awaiting entrance into my alimentary canal, which I shall do as soon as the cooling is enough. Sunrise was well before six meows. Not true, really. Papi was in and out, meowing each time for assistance. It’ll be 84 F today, sunny and cloudy.
My biggest news was my cougar sighting. Happened at 10:45 PM. I like going out in the late evening to breathe the air and admire the celestial existence above me. Don’t turn on lights because that would ruin the moment — enough lights already on along the street, thanks — but do carry a small flashlight. This time, when I walked out, I saw an animal in the street start and do a lazy trot up the hill, a cat-like trot but waaayyy bigger than any cat I’ve known. About twenty feet away. Totally silent. Did I mention big? What was really striking was it’s looonnnggg tail.
I flashed the light at them but was too slow. They’d gone up around the corner. My concerns were for my cats. The front door was open behind me. Tucker was saunter-washing — two steps forward, pause to wash a paw, continue two steps — so I closed the door before he was out. Papi was already out, so I called for him sotto voce because I didn’t want the cougar to respond to my whistles, kissing sounds, and name-calling.
As I did that, I thought, did it look like the cougar had something in its mouth? Papi is just a little fourteen pounder. Amuse bouche for a cougar.
Then I went back in, related all to my wife, who was in bed, reading, and got my sword. I figured that if I’m to save Papi from a cougar, a sword would be useful.
I’d bought the sword a few years ago for Halloween. It’s made of wood about half an inch thick, thirty inches long. Stupid me gave away my ball gear, including bats, because I was no longer playing and some youths would make better use of it. Now what was there to ward off a cougar? A broom? Well, yeah…but, you know…image. The sword was better.
Papi didn’t return for hours, but he finally did. Found him on the back patio. He looked like he had a story to tell, seemed ready to spill on an adventure, like, “Damn, you wouldn’t believe the size of the cat I saw. They must be giving him a lot of treats. Cat that size probably just takes his own treats. I wish I was that big. Then I’d show that little dog next door.”
Cougar sightings aren’t unusual for Ashlandia. They’ve been spotting all over town, along with their kills, and kills being made. All is well, for now, though.
Today’s music arises from errand running yesterday, dropping off ballots — Oregon is all ‘mail-in’ but with drop boxes — pick up library books, mail a bill, and buy romaine. Meghan Trainor’s 2022 song, “Made You Look”, came on the car radio. Spouse turned it up with the comment, “I like this song. It’s fun.” I agree. Nice throwback doo wop vibe to it. Short, though, but fun. The Neurons liked it enough to loop it through the mental music stream. Thought it a good song for a cougar sighting — “I made you look.”
Stay pos and carry forward. The coffee has just been tested and The Neurons are pleased. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s a little before 8 AM. It was already light as a cloudy day by 5 AM as the sunrise cruises closer to 5:30 AM. Floofs are fed Breakfast is et. 68 F outside, sunny, humidity of 54%, light breeze, warm but cool. Today’s high will be 83F. We did reach 93 in moi’s yard yesterday. It’s May 15, 2023. Under pretense of reminding me, my wife reminds herself, the guest room window will be replaced tomorrow, 3 PM. The guy, Chris, came 30 minutes early last time, so be ready 30 minutes early. Right, got it, I answer, once, twice, thrice, half-listening as I read.
The coffee has been poured. French roast. Smells woody, earthy, wonderful. Went onto the sun soaked back patio and sniffed it a bit as the breeze played and the cats washed.
I took a magnesium citrate this morning. Calf cramps, you know, walking, exercising, yard work, sweating. The Neurons immediately began playing “White Rabbit” by a group called Jefferson Airplane. Coming out in 1967, this psychedelic song worried Mom about what her eleven-year-old son was hearing.
The first sip of coffee has been sampled. As good as expected. Ready for more.
Stay pos. Carpe Monday. Time to imbibe more coffee. Maybe do the Wordle. Or shower and clean up. Or read? No, wait, today is food and friends deliveries.
Today is Sunday, you know what that means. It’s May 11, 2023. Mother’s Day in America. It’s a love fest out there.
Beautiful day here, too. Yesterday’s temps peaked at 88 F around my house, and it was gorgeous. Spirit lifting and energizing. Today appears much like yesterday. Sky is sick with blue and sunshine. High of either 88, 90, or 97 F predicted. Warm, busy wind today. Invigorating, peeps. Cats are totally digging it, parading in and out of the house for a while until finding just the right spot for a warm spring morning nap. Don’t really know where Tucker is squatting but he’ll show up come kibble time.
Merry Mom Day to all it celebrate it. Hope it’s a grand day.
Mom has received the card, letter, and chocolates I sent her. She’s pleased. As two sisters and many grands and great-grands live within half an hour of her or so, MD is always done up. Mom is more limited now, uses a walker, gets tired easily, so plans will be different. Uncle Billy’s funeral was last night, too, so that’s put a damper on Mom’s spirits. I’ll get a full report later.
Nephew — little sister’s number two son — is marrying this year. We’re busy getting clothes and making plans to fly to the PA area for that. Since we’ll be on the east coast, we’ll go down south to visit other family, too.
Today’s theme music came about when someone talked about something going on. Several others and I said, “I can help,” and “Me, too,” and all that. The Neurons took that opportunity to re-acquaint me with Billy Swan’s 1974 song, “I Can Help”. Ubiquitous — on numerous radio stations of rock, pop, and country persuasions — he also showed up on television. It’s another one of those songs that landed and splashed and I rarely heard again. But you get to hear it today as Sunday’s theme music.
Stay pos, make the day worthy of being alive if you can — I know too well, limiting forces muscle us around — and enjoy coffee. Coffee: it brings out the best in me.
The sun rose before me, a little before six AM. Gonna be hot again. 63 F now. Some say it’ll reach 86 F in Ashlandia. Others pronounce 90 will be the temp top. 97 F is in others’ forecasts. All three may actually be right, depending upon which part of the city you’re in. I believe we’ll see 91 in my locale. Hit 82 F yesterday.
Gorgeous out there right now. All green and blue. Mellow mountain breeze is sloping down into the open back doors. The cats come in, come by me for a welfare check and to see if I’m eating or doing anything of interest, and meowder back out.
Yardwork is in my future after the writing session, as the last rain cycle caused weeds to explode in height and density. I’ll cull the dandies a bit but we let them stay. Bees like ’em.
Terrible dream last night. Vivid and intense. Took me about an hour before slumber crawled back in me.
But the day’s song comes from a walk yesterday. Up from the wells of 1969 came “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” by the Bob Seger System. Found an interesting video of it being performed by a young and beardless Bob Seger. Never seen him without a beard. I always believed he was born with a beard. The set is fascinating as well. It’s an energetic rendition.
Stay pos and take Saturday like a happy pill. Coffee is tugging my leash so I’m going on. Here’s the beats as heard over fifty years ago. Cheers
56 degrees F at this moment. Expecting the mid to upper 80s before the sun’s Ashlandia sojourn ends. It’s Friday, My 12, 2023.
Today’s heat is a prelude to a week of it. What irritates about many of these weather changes is how it jumps into hot weather and collapses into chilly weather with little warning. Why can’t we hit the middle ground and stay there for a while.
I know, I whine a lot. Everyone complains about the weather but nobody does anything. I said it here first…
I’m feeling better in a psyche way today. Dropped some anxiety and stress. I naturally gravitate to being those things although I’m weirdly known for being calm in an emergency. Three things resolved that were affecting my stress and anxiety. Got my retired military ID — now known as a an Identification and Privilege Card — issued at last. Been trying for almost a year. Picture looks pretty good, too. Look like a sea captain in it.
Second, first annual physical since I passed 65 years old. Hell, first annual physical in a looonnnggg time. Nothing untoward discovered. As part of my general hypertension, I suffer white coat syndrome. Getting the appointment out of the way was a relief although they IMMEDIATELY scheduled one for next year, so I’ve got THAT to worry about.
Third, sadly but painfully true, is that the death watch for Uncle Bill is over. Reminders of immortality, sadness about changes, another milestone in growing older all seen and felt with one strike.
I was watching my boy, Papi, an aloof ginger floof, as he watched the street traffic yesterday. He can’t help but get into a position to see what is making that noise? What is coming? Then, as the noise-maker closes in — runner, biker, walker — with or without dog — street cleaner, he turns and flees to the porch’s safety, hides behind a post and leans around, continue to watch. If he sees me watching, he comes over to be let in, and then walks around the house demanded to be let outside. The back door is open this morning, letting him come and go.
Weird song The Neurons thrust into the morning mental music stream. From 1967, it’s called “Tin Soldier” by Small Faces (not to be confused with “One Tin Soldier”, which is a totally different song). The roots to hearing it today aren’t clear. Although I had disturbing dreams, I can’t pinpoint anything from them which would call the song out. My best guess is that the mid to late 1960s was time spent around Uncle Bill, so the The Neurons expanded the sphere, bringing this song in.
Stay pos, if you can. Can be difficult, I understand. I think a cuppa coffee is in order for me now. Let the pouring commence. Here’s Small Faces. See you on the flipside.
Well, the sky is blue and ripe with sunshine. It’s fine weather, even though Uncle Bill passed away at midnight last night. Heart failure. He was a good person and being related to him is an honor. Not much else I can but celebrate his life and go on.
It’s 62 F right now. 75 F is expected later today, 80 Friday, 90 — some say 97 — an Saturday, kicking off a week of temperatures dancing between highs in the upper 80s to mid 90s. Appears summer is crowding into May. This is May 11, 2023.
It’s also my older sister’s birthday. Happy b’day, sister! She’s two years older than me and about eight inches shorter, and I’m only 5’8″. She’s a grandma several times over and living the life in a suburb outside of Atlanta, Georgia.
Learning of Uncle Bill’s end of life encouraged The Neurons with a 1986 Phil Collins song, “Take Me Home”. I may not be alone in this, but I’d loved to be back in that time when I regularly saw Uncle Bill, and he was young, and I was younger, and both of had forever ahead of us. Death is natural and regular, but always stirs memories up from the well’s bottom and yearning for the times and places I most enjoyed.
On a lighter note, got my new military ID today. Yes, I’m retired, but the card ‘expired’ when I turned 65, something put in place to force retirees to sign up for Medicare, which becomes the primary healthcare for vets of a certain era. Getting the card is hard. Limited places to get it in Oregon. Local Medford guard unit provides walk-in service. Well, that’s easy, isn’t it? No. The onerous system complicates matters. People line up, waiting to get in, as he goes through the process of connecting, entering data, verifying info, registering fingerprints, taking the photo, and then finally printing out the new card and verifying that its chip works. Today was my ninth visit to get ‘er done. Tried too, when I was in PA last year, where they are by appointment only. No appointments were available at any of the three nearby sites. Morgan, the infantry man who mans the office, shared several horror stories about people’s efforts to get a new card. Congratulations to him, too, who is retiring after twenty, but staying on to do the same job as a civilian. He seems pretty pleased.
Have some coffee and stay pos. Enjoy your life and forge ahead as you can. Here’s the music. Cheers
Last night was a lovely black night. I’d clean out the royal’s collection box (known in many homes as ‘the litter box’) and was securing its potatoes in a bag which was deposited in a garbage can outside the side door. The air was cool, the night was black, and the stars were fine. I stayed out for half an hour, enjoying the feel and scene.
Today, Wednesday, May 10, 2023, is cool — mid forties — but sunny, with a preternatural blue sky unafflicted by smoke, clouds, or haze. Gorgeous, yeah? Yet the weather minions whisper that it’ll be cloudy today, with thunderstorms and rain in the afternoon. High will 67 F. The sun’s grand entrance took place at a few minutes before six AM and the grand departure from Ashlandia’s skies will come about after eight PM. The floofs — Tucker and Papi by name — are eating that sunshine up.
Trying to help FB friends save a beautiful Husky, Sam.
He is off the death list, I understand. If you’re interested, or know someone who can save this doggo and give him a home, here’s the contact info. Reach out to them.
Interesting dreams last night. Had a repeat of one which involved flying with Dad, but the jet was a big building with a luxurious red interior. We went around different parts of the aircraft napping, eating, watching movies, and chatting with others. That one ended and the next one had me in a military uniform, under attack and dealing with the fallout, and literally crapping my pants and being embarrassed and humiliated as people wondered what stunk. A friend was helping me, and then I made off to change clothes, and another old friend helped me. I ended up in two different uniform styles being worn, but is that so important when the place is going to be attacked?
I thought those dreams would trigger something from The Neurons in the matter of theme music, but they had other ideas. Last night’s black night inspired The Neurons to play “Black Night” by Deep Purple (1970) in the morning mental music stream. I went looking for a video of the song and was rewarded with this find, a group made of a little Purple, Iron Maiden, Queen, and Led Zepp. This was part of the Sunflower Superjam, a British charity. Hope you’ll give your ears a taste of this excellent rendition.
Alright, stay pos and master Wednesday. It’s all downhill for the rest of the week. Just a pause to shout out to my late FIL. Passing in 1991 when he was 65, he would be 97 this year. Still miss him. You know what he liked? Coffee and fishing. In his honor, I’ll have a cup of coffee, thanks.
The sun bulled its way over the horizon and into Ashlandia’s sky a few ticks before six AM. It’s Tuesday, May 9, 2023, and 45 degrees F out there. Rain deliveries through the past five days have encouraged the town to show off multiple greens. Jade, emerald, pine, leafy, grassy — the greens flourish under the immaculately blue sky. Not promising anything, the weather criers say, but it’ll be in the upper sixties today. The sun’s end time in Ashlandia’s environs will be after eight this evening.
Went walking yesterday, a favorite pastime. Two miles, one and a half of it in steady rain. Lovely. Got home wet with rain and sweat. Lovely. Felt good to be back in the rain and feel the sweat dripping and rolling, plastering my hair under my hat.
I continue scoring on the dream front. Last night brought visits from Sean Penn and Brad Pitt. Woke up chuckling to myself, mumbling, that was a great dream. Then I went through it, writing it all down after I got up, one of three dreams covered in today’s dream journal entry.
The cats are adjusting to the improved weather. So are other cats. Thus there was floof showdown on the front porch. A young gray cat has been showing up around the neighborhood for the last two months. Seems healthy, but just going around doing feline business. They’ve encountered Papi the ginger wonder before, but apparently last night was a surprise for the two and face to face. It’s post event speculation for us. We only know that the floof warnings went off like air-raid sirens for the Battle of Britain. Dashing to the front door, we saw the two. Of course, Tucker, the black and white lord of thunder heard it all and galloped out, too, shouting, “To battle.” Seeing the situation, gray cat departed. Papi pursued but lost the trail. He and Tucker took up stations to ensure they’d be there, should the interloper return.
Today’s music comes from “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”. We’ve been watching it recently and have plowed into the third season. The song, by the Poppy Family, is “Where Evil Grows” and was put out over fifty years ago. I heard it on the radio a few times back then before it disappeared. But it shows up on television shows and movies once in a while, never on the radio, that I ever hear. Anyway, hearing it enlivened The Neurons, and they plugged it into the morning mental music stream, advertising it as nostalgia. The song’s writer is Terry Jacks, better known for “Which Way You Going, Billy” and “Seasons in the Sun”.
Ah, the train is rolling through, tooting its own horn, ensuring everyone is aware of its royal self as it rumbles through town. Stay pos, keep living the good life and fighting the good fight, wherever it may take you. My efforts are taking me to the coffee. Here’s the tune. Give it a listen. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 