Tag: sis

Fridaz Theme Music

The temperature is sulking between 28 (my house) and 37 F (the net). The net amends its claim, “Feels like 27 degrees”. Well, alright then.

It’s Frida, January 9, 2026. The grass is a ghostly shade of green under an unstoppable blue sky. Sunshine feeds light into the valley. All of it looks promising, optimistic. Today’s high will drag the mercury to 46 F.

I’m processing news and information, reflecting on 2026’s launch and its relative successes and failures. Mom and sis have been quiet. Sis has only commented on another sister’s behavior. The other sister is urging everyone to sell Mom’s house quickly but is not doing anything to make that happen.

Sis and Mom are quiet. I hope it’s because stress has dropped for the two, letting them breathe and communicate. I have my fingers crossed that we’ll see a peaceful January. If they can go an entire month without blowing up my phone with texts accusing the other of hate and malfeasance, it’ll be a new record.

Likewise, watching growing reactions in the political world, I slowly became hopeful that improvements are rising. My hopes are not unlimited.

After an ICE agent shot and killed an American citizen in Minneapolis, there was a shooting involving border patrol agents and civilians in Portland. Fortunately, only two civilians were shot and they received prompt medical treatment. I don’t know how the two victims are faring; I hope both are recovering.

Mixed concerns rose after listening to Portland’s Mayor and Oregon Governor Tina Kotes speaking after the shooting. They called out Trump, Homeland Security, and ICE to de-escalate the situation. They then talked about re-building an atmosphere of trust.

Sadly, I don’t think Trump cares about a trust between citizens or political parties. Trump has ramped up his belligerence in 2026’s early days by insinuating that more military action against other nations and territories is possible. Even as National Guard units are being removed from Portland (OR) due to a judge’s order, Trump threatens to send them back in.

My worries about his increasing threats are grounded in the claim he’s recently made that only he can stop himself. Trump’s history is not one of self-restraint and his second term is replete with threats. He’s attacked judges who ruled against him, politicians who speak against him, and reporters who don’t portray him as the greatest.

Between Mom, sis, Trump, and the weather, I’m ready for January to be emotionally up and down. As it sometimes is with me, that mood summons songs from the grunge side.

This morning, the delivery came as I watched a small bird fly down to the yard. After three quick hops, he flitted to the wire. His little head popped left and right. To my mind, he was doing a recon, and his conclusion was, no, this is not the place, because he jumped up and flew off.

I smiled throughout this and thought about having wings and flying. The Neurons jumped into the thought party at that point to play me some “Down in A Hole” by Alice in Chains in the morning mental music stream.

The Neurons didn’t start at the beginning. They selected the lines, “I’d like to fly, but my wings have been so denied.” Laughter to that seemed like an appropriate response.

Coffee has been added to my morning tilt. Energy is rising. I hope you all reach and stay in a good place for this day and the many to follow. Cheers

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A Road Trip Dream

I was setting out on a trip with three friends. Only one — Ron, an older man — translates to a current real-life person. Ron was just as he is in real life. The others, also males, were known.

One interesting note that emerged and wove throughout were two others, both female. They sometimes joined the journey, and Ron and I discussed whether they would be with us. The two women, both brunettes, one in a red top with black pants and the other wearing a bright blue top, would only appear and not speak directly to me.

We were riding in Ron’s truck. This was beige and big, with a four-door cab and a luxurious tan leather interior. Though Ron was driving, he was in the backseat. I was alongside him. He’d put the car on autopilot, so it was essentially driving itself with him just monitoring what was going on.

I kicked back beside him on the back seat. Stretching my legs out, my foot ended up hitting the steering wheel. That put us off course. Because of the way I was reclined, it took several seconds of jostling to get my foot out of the way. During that time, we went off the road and onto the shoulder but didn’t slow. Ron finally steered us back on course and returned the truck to autopilot, but now he was worried and concerned the police would pull us over.

We arrived at our destination — a huge furniture store. I’d never been to it. The floor was hard dirt. All furniture was antique white. Despite the floor and the limited offering, the store was very busy. The women showed up briefly. The others spoke with them while I went out to another section of store.

The next store section was filled with tables and chrome appliances. The appliances turned out to be food and drink dispensers. Needing to use a restaurant, I did some bowel business but discovered the toilet didn’t have any way to flush. Removing my fecal material with a wad of paper towels, I looked for a way to dispose of it. I found one but they wanted me to pay money to flush it away. I refused, angry and disgusted that they’d monetized flushing away our body functions. I instead found a small white bag, put the materials in there, and set it on a table, telling myself, it would be someone else’s problem.

I then reconnected with my friends. I told Ron that when we went back, I wanted to sit in the front and stretch out and sleep. He looked at me with confusion but didn’t reply. The two women came by. One said she had to go off and find her children.

My friends and I went to another section. People there were seated, waiting to pay for their selections. I stopped before one man and did a giddy tap dance. The man, overweight and big with swarthy skin and a white cowboy hat, ordered, “Stop that.” Laughing, I kept dancing but moved to another section. Another man who I didn’t see said, “Stop that,” but I laughed and danced away.

My friends met up with me again. All were surprised that I was tap dancing and thought it strange. They wondered how I learned it. I replied, “I’ve always known how to tap dance. Nobody ever needed to teach me. I just knew. I just don’t do it much.”

Dream end.

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Mundaz Theme Music

34 F today in Ashlandia as winter takes over. My sister told me she likes it when it gets that warm in winter. LOL. It’s Munda, December 22, 2025. Cloudy but they’re light, torn cloud shards. No rain is expected. Fog might crown some parts of town, according to reports, but it’s clear outside my windows. Today’s high might stretch to 50 F.

Our solstice dinner went well, thanks. We picked up frozen garlic Naan to go with our chosen soups. My wife went with cream of mushroom, which she declared with a mild shrug, “It’s okay.” I had a spicy and satisfying vegan chili. Naan went well with it. We complemented the meal with raw carrots, celery, and radishes.

Mom texted me that she’s very busy trying to get cards out to all her great- and grandchildren but she also had an upset stomach. There’s been no talk of war between her and sis, knock wood. Sis’s grandson turned seven so there was a party where the theme was six and seven. The children apparently found that hysterically funny.

My grandnephew prepares to blow out the candle on his birthday cupcake during a bowling party.

I was speaking with a friend I ran into yesterday. Quickly talking about politics, he mentioned how the Trump Regime was causing so much pain to several family members in different areas of the nation. One of them was a MAGA sister who is shocked by her premium increases. I think he said she lives in Arizona but don’t hold me to that. A nephew he mentioned is a liberal and a farmer who was really bleak about next year. I mentioned in response that Trump is the King of pain. That inspired The Neurons to project “King of Pain” by The Police in the afternoon mental music stream. It carried over to the morning mental music stream.

We’re off to do the Food & Friends deliveries. Swish some coffee down my throat first. If peace and grace show up here, I’ll give them a drink and tell them to go see you, yeah? Here we go. Cheers

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

Satyrda, December 20, 2025 finds us under a blue sky marbled with fine white clouds. Sunshine licks the land with lavish light. Not much warmth, though, as we find ourselves floating through the low to mid-thirties right now. Highs in the low to mid-fifties have been cast.

The storms up north in Oregon and Washington abated for the moment but a parade of storms are forecast for them, all part of the atmospheric river. Send energy their way that the disaster doesn’t deepen and become even more tragic for them.

The December calm continues for Mom and sis. Each are privately giving credit to me in their texts along the lines of, “I don’t know what you said to her, but she’s being much nicer to me.” I only suggested that both of them are trying their best, both are frustrated, and please, find some patience and sympathy for the other. Although they initially snapped at the advice — “I am being patient, it’s her!” — I think they went off and thought about it. Or maybe it was just serendipity that I gave that advice but other things intervened to change their moods. Who knows? I’m just accepting the fragile peace with hope that it grows, deepens, and develops into something more sustained.

I read of Trump’s asinine suggestion for his Trump Games. Another distraction from the shallow thinker. Upon reading of it, I wondered if someone joked to him about it with The Hunger Games in mind and he jumped on it as a great idea, “The greatest, most beautiful, most patriotic games EVER!!!” Christ, I hope no one mentions Running Man to him.

In Trump’s honor, The Neurons suggested the 1980 song “Games People Play” by The Alan Parsons Project for the morning mental music stream.

Lyrics

Where do we go from here now that all of the children are growin’ up?
And how do we spend our lives if there’s no one to lend us

I don’t want to live here no more
I don’t want to stay
Ain’t gonna spend the rest of my life
Quietly fading away

Games people play
You take take it or you leave it
Things that they say, honor bright
If I promise you the moon and the stars
Would you believe it
Games people play in the middle of the night

~snip~

h/t to sonichits.com

I’m personally impressed with the song choice The Neurons made. Trump does all his game playing at night, diddling on Truth Social, ranting and raving, promising money to people to curry their support. Then he betrays them faster than an eyeblink.

By the way, going back to the Trump Games, did he mention building a new stadium for it yet? Bet that’s bubbling in his tiny noggin. Yes, he has said he wants an NFL stadium renamed in hizzoner. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t instead have something torn down to have a giant stadium constructed in his name. Donors would pay for it, of course *cough cough gag gag*. And it would be “THE BIGGEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL STATIUM IN HISTORY!!!” Probably have Trump’s name in gold everywhere, along with his portrait. Likely built with ‘illegal immigrant’ labor. He’ll give them a deal. “Build my stadium for room and board and I’ll reward you with U.S. citizenship.”

But as we know, it’ll all be lies and broken promises in the end.

Coffee has appeared in my cup and is making the traditional way to my innards. Hope peace and grace slip out from their spider holes and show up in our lives sometime soon. Till then, peace out. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

Twozda, December 16, 2025, has settled on Ashlandia. And it’s brought fog again. Like, hey, thanks for the gift, but we’re full up on fog. More sunshine or light rain would be welcomed. A hard rain came yesterday for a few hours. Welcome change to the fog and the month’s first precipitation. On the sunny side of weather information, the various systems are aligned regarding the temperature and current weather, agreeing across the board that it’s foggy and 50 F. I provided feedback to Alexa and several online weather sites this week that they were getting our weather wrong. Like one day is a fluke, two days is a coincidence but three days is messed up. Not saying that I did it, but I do believe others are like me out there and told the systems, hey, you’re getting our weather wrong.

Mom and sis have reached detente again. Mom’s was probably accidental. Sis admitted, Mom is probably experiencing dementia. Sis has backed off from moving Mom back to her house. Sis acknowledges that she’ll probably need to continue provide food, shelter, and assistance for me. Sis has rejected the idea of having Mom declared incompetent and moved to a home of some kind at this point, as that requires an effort she’s not willing to put out. I don’t blame her. So much of this falls on her as she’s there and the other sisters have checked out, and I’m across the country. Sis and I do a lot of texting. I try to be as supportive as possible and keep my criticisms and disagreement low key and gentle. I think she appreciates and enjoys that outlet and that’s the best I can do at this point.

Movement against Trump seems to be rising. People are saying, enough. Some of them are even Republicans. Hope that continues growing. His affordability tour is flailing, I’ve read. He goes off script into familiar rants, which are now wearing thin. Attendance is poor. Doesn’t help that Deceiving Donny keeps talking about how prices are coming down, or that affordability is a hoax. Too many are hurting from the truth. Food and energy prices are not done as Deceitful Donny keeps boasting.

The machine behind Death Donny is grinding on, though, dragging down everything known as the United States for the last century except the name and the flag. Wouldn’t put it past Trump and his regime, though, for him to announce that they’re changing the flag and dropping the stars for blue states. Just the dimwitted, smirking, asinine behavior that they consistently show, crowing about how they love the nation, how patriotic they are, how they’re doing things in the name of saving the nation or keep it secure. It’s all garbage talk, and polls show people aren’t buying it much these days.

I have Little Feat playing “Dixie Chicken” in the morning mental music stream. Yes, that’s wholly derived from a dream line where someone said, “Do you have brain fog?” Thinking about that question and the events surrounding the dream, The Neurons began playing the 1973 song for me. Strange, but most of the rest of the dream was about me trying to shoot a woman. I was being coerced to do it and didn’t like it at all.

That’s it for the morning summary. Hope and grace come by and give you a hug and a kiss. Coffee and I are having a visit. Happy holidays to you. Time to busta move. Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Sunshine is making its way. Yesterday’s prevailing gray has been subdued. Temperatures from 46 to 57 degrees F, now and later. It’ll be cloudy. Rain could slip in. So could fog. We’ll see what we see for today, Munda, December 8, 2025. At least it has a less wintry feel to it. Yeah, I know how much I whine. Other places are digging out of snow, dealing with slush and ice. Here I sit, the prince on his cushion, upset about a pea.

Haven’t done this song in a while. “You May Be Right” is a fave for me. Like the words, their sentiments, the beat, and Billy Joel’s delivery. It’s a ripped from life sort of song. That’s what brought it here today. Mom and sisters are now in open war. One sister said she won’t have naught to do with Mom. Sis, the primary caretaker, said she will no longer speak to Mom or help her. Third sister said she is also not speaking to Mom because Mom is not listening and is shouting at everyone. Exhausting a thousand miles away plus.

Mom wants to return to ‘her house’. Her house has been cleaned out of food. Slowly stripped of stuff to make it saleable, an effort begun back in October. Sis and the others are saying, “Let her go if that’s what she wants.” I tried to make peace. Tried to explain how it didn’t work for Mom in October when Frank was hospitalized and it won’t work now. Sis and the others have moved past caring, they say. Mom has alienated everyone in the house. Sigh.

Tried to explain to Mom why it won’t work for her to return to her place. Mom’s response was, well, startling in its unmoored style. She told me that my sister had gotten to me. Went into something about how that was because she’d been in and out of a wheelchair back in October but now they’re keeping her in a wheelchair so her back and legs are week. Like, what? Mom finished, “I’m going to get out of here, one way or another.”

Frequently in the conversations and texts about the situation, I end up saying, “You may be right.” After observing me thinking it so often, The Neurons decided that I needed the song and cranked it up in the morning mental music stream. Although I often look for recordings of live performances, I enjoy the original video for this song, so here it is.

In reflection about Mom and sis, etc., I had doubts about that arrangement working. Mom is hardheaded; sis inherited that from her. Mom also have several other skills, like being overdramatic and the ability to push others’ buttons. Sis and Mom have history. Nonetheless, I was hopeful. This option was also the only one Mom agreed to. I think all concerned dreamed of a different outcome. Of course, we can’t say how much drug, pain, aging, stress, emotions, etc., is dictating this course. I’ve seen other families endure it with grit teeth and heavy sighs. Now it’s our family’s turn. I don’t have hopes for any sort of quick, easy, or happy outcomes. One of them is texting me right now so I must go see what the latest is.

Need I say, we all miss Frank for his patience, support, and endurance?

Hope peace and grace finds and holds you. I’ve had a couple slugs of coffee. Think I’ll have a few more. Here we go. Cheers

4

Fridaz Theme Music

It’s a sighing kind of day. Sunshine is spare as rain falls and gray clouds swallow the valley. 46 F now, we’re almost at our high. Yes, good to have some rain. But not so good for my spirit today, Frida, December 5, 2025. On the plus side of things, Wordle, Connections, and the Spelling Bee were all easy. So I have that going for me.

Mom and sis are again having issues. These are also adjustment things. Relates to how things used to be done when Mom and Frank lived together and Frank ran Mom’s errands. Sam’s Club was being used as Mom’s pharmacy. That was cost-effective and convenient for them. Sam’s Club was just less than ten minutes away, an easy drive. Frank enjoyed going through, picking up the prescriptions, doing some shopping, getting gas. Sam’s Club is nowhere near sis’s house. Going through is an hour plus investment of time and effort deeply affected by traffic and weather. Sis asked Mom to change her pharmacy to CVS because it’s just a few minutes away. Mom said she called the Sam’s Club and told them. No, Mom needs to call her doctor and tell them. She says she did. They told another sister that Mom’s message couldn’t be understood. Sis asked Mom to call them again. Mom said, no, she’s only allowed to call the doctor once a day. WTF? So yeah, confusion, frustrations, and stress are rising. Doesn’t help sis that she’s working this week so much of this is being conducted via phone calls and text messages while she’s at work. It’ll pass. Hopefully that’ll happen soon, and without much bloodshed. This sort of reminds me of the novel, Corrections.

Today’s music is dedicated to Trump and his enablers. After news reading that encouraged headshaking, groaning, growling, and sighs, The Neurons put Linda Ronstadt in the morning mental music stream with her cover of “You’re No Good”.

My wife raised this issue today: why didn’t the Trump Regime pick up those two survivors of the boat attack and question them for intelligence and information? Answer: because it’s about killing and making a show, and not about truth, facts, facts. She continues to advocate for the guillotine. She believes drastic changes will be needed once Trump is gone, and the only way to emphasize that We the People are serious is to lop off a few heads. Mitch McConnell tops her list. Weird to hear this lifelong pacifist advocate cutting off heads but that’s where we’re at.

Coffee and I are making nice again. Time to get out and do other things. Hope peace and grace light your day for a bit. Here I go, into the rain. Cheers

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Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

The honeymoon is over.

Sis is angry with Mom. Mom is angry with her. They are, as they have done for decades, growling at one another. Accusations sometimes come out about what’s going on. Sis thinks Mom is being obstinate. Mom thinks sis is being mean.

Growing experiences from the new living arrangements are certainly expected. Both are intelligent and know this. As with so many things, there are components of making these adjustments. It’s one thing to intellectually know something, yet something else to intellectually understand and accept it, and still requires some emotional and physical facets to adjust to make it all work. It’ll take time. Patience and anger will rise and fall like waves beating on the shore. The adjustments will be found.

I hope.

1

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Through the fog creeps Thirstda, November 11, 2025. 52/57/48 are the numbers for the day: present, high, low. It’s a remarkably narrow range, with fog and clouds gaining the lower hand over the sun’s position as an influencer.

Mom continues to improve and impress, according to sis. Had her first PT session today and did great! Wife, on the other hand, is not doing well, in her words. Not surprising for me. She and stress aren’t good friends. Her anxiety climbs and she becomes physically challenged with a great deal of pain. She’s working through her protocols to cope. As for me, other than physical limitations and restricted diet, I feel fab. Didn’t do much yesterday except nibble on crackers and binge on a series called “Suspicions” with short naps. Found I wasn’t comfortable sitting at the desk, as that strained my abs, so the planned typing didn’t come about. Tried other places and positions but all felt wrong and I didn’t have enough to push through. Part of this is because my wife gave a steady stream of reminders not to do too much. I didn’t want to add to her stress, so I backed off.

I also ate too many crackers, I think. I had some vegan, gluten-free vegetarian broth. No flavor, at all. Really disappointing, so I went back to the crackers. We had picked up some TJ’s garlic-flavored naan crackers, water wafers, and something from Costco, potato crackers seasoned with seaweed. I didn’t think much of the water wafers, but my taste buds highly rated the other two.

Plans today are to catch up on writing, reading, and blogging. I finished reading my last two books, both fiction on my travels. Gravity’s Rainbow is available at long last. Yes, I confess, I haven’t read the classic. Found it in the library system and put it on hold back in July. I began reading a terrific (so far) historical fiction book by Amy Stewart called Woman Waits with Gun. Ironically, I’d purchased it at Half-Priced Books in Monroeville on the 2023 visit to attend my nephew’s marriage in Pittsburgh. I know this because the receipt was inside. It sat in the TBR stack by the bed until I came back from Pittsburgh. I’d just finished a romantasy and a crime thriller and needed a read, and ‘lo, there it was.

Over on streaming land, we are into the latest season of “Slow Horses” and “Down Cemetery Road” and are ready to begin “King and Conqueror” and the latest season of “Diplomat”. This is augmented by “The Graham Norton Show” and rewatching “Would I Lie to You”. I cut the last short because laughing and coughing really rile my incisions.

Today’s music is out of dreamland again. The Neurons, looking over my shoulder as I reviewed my strange and amusing dream, came up with “Rocket” by the Smashing Pumpkins, in the morning mental music stream. That was sort of funny on their part, as I’d been dreaming about being on a spaceship. I’ve gone through this before, dreaming of being traveling in space, then awakening to bafflement about where I am.

Another of my dreams was very short. This was about kittens gamboling on me, mewing until I got up to feed them. I thought there were two kittens but when I put out the food, four more appeared with sharp cries, “Me, too!” I rhetorically responded, “How many kittens do we have,” as one more little grey fluff of floof waddled in. That was all the dream offered.

I’ve been looking at news but don’t have many thoughts on it at this point. Trump is being Trump, as far as I can tell, with all the mendacity, greed, and arrogance that implies.

Hope peace and grace find their way out of the fog to you. My body is suggesting it’s time to lay down again. Think I’ll do as it says. Cheers

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