I was at some kind of crowded business where I was – again – a young man.
Nobody familiar was with me at that point. A hectic atmosphere surrounded me as people rushed around, doing things.
I was rushing, too. I’d just sealed an envelope. I needed postage to mail it. I stepped up to the postage area as a young woman finished using it. Fumbling through what to do, I pressed buttons to get stamps. Streams of paper spewed out. I thought, are those stamps?
No, I saw, those were someone’s receipts. That woman was gone and I was in a hurry, and others were waiting, so I tossed those aside. Now – ah, I needed to weigh my letter. That done, the machine asked for payment. I pulled out a credit card and tapped it against the machine, amused that I’m using a credit card to pay for a stamp, but that was quickest and easiest
That done, I crossed the wooden floor past knots of people. My wife was sitting on the floor. Beside her was a young French woman I’d previously noticed. Short, she had curly short brown hair. I was barefoot, and so was the woman.
I spoke with them briefly, then went off to get something. Jumping up, the French woman offered to join me, which pleased and flattered me. We crossed the wooden floor again.
I spotted a small fuzzy creature crawling across the floor. Thinking it was a kitten, because I knew there was a clowder of kittens in the room, I picked it up.
It was a small pink elephant with gray ears and a gray belly. So small that it fit easily into my palm, it put up its trunk and released a squeaky trumpet. I talked to it, reassuring it that I didn’t mean it any harm, telling it, “I’m going to put you back to where you belong,” which was some kind of baskets with towels on the floor.
After doing that, the French woman pushed her toes up against my toes and gave me a flirty smile. Grinning, I told her, “You have beautiful toes.”
Ashland, southern Oregon – Tuesday, October 13, 2026.
Gorgeous, full-throttled autumn day out there. All of nature is actively participating to give us the full fall experience of changing leaves, blue sky, and crisp morning air. We’re going to heat up to 70 today and expect a warming trend for the coming weekend.
Mom is still doing poorly. Mom complained that she was out of pads and feeling a lot of pain urinating, and several other issues. We discovered that she doesn’t tell the assisted living staff any of that, due to her sense of privacy. There are people who can help her with her issues, but she doesn’t tell them she’s having issues, so they don’t offer help.
My sister went over today with new pads and to check on Mom. Found her in the rec room with others. Gina reported that Mom is very lethargic. Mom’s room smelled like urine. Gina has been going back and forth with the assisted living director, Mom, and Mom’s doctors. Gina has also delved more deeply into Mom’s medical records on Mychart.
It’s a busy morning for us. Workmen were expected to arrive and fix the flashing around the bathroom skylight and a few other minor issues on the roof. They were expected between 9 and 10 but didn’t show.
Meanwhile, I’d scheduled the same time for a contractor to come by to inspect the fence and give us assessment about what needs done, if he’ll take the job, and all the details that go with it. He showed on time and that went well. The fence is in pretty good shape overall, with just three posts requiring replacement. He will do those repairs, power wash the fence, and then paint it.
After that, I called the roofers to see what was going on. The other job they were on took longer than planned. They just arrived at 12:30 to begin the work.
My doctor’s office called and told me the Cologuard results were in. My tests were positive, so they’re going to schedule me for some tests and surgery to see if I have colon or other kinds of cancer down there.
My wife is in a cranky mood. She has a nervous disposition and high anxiety and couldn’t sleep last night because of today’s appointments. So it’s one of those if it’s not one thing, it’s another kind of days so far. All in all, it’s still a better life than many others experience. I complain because that’s who I am.
Probably won’t be able to get out and write today, though, which is a bummer. That’s my escape from the insanity, my coping mechanism. I will write at home but it’s not quite the same. For one, I enjoy the coffee shop’s helter skelter energy. Two, when I write at home, my wife often interrupts. She will actually ask, “Can I interrupt you?” Yeah, I’m a curmudgeon of sorts. *smile*
Today’s music is “Where Is My Husband!” This is a 2025 song by Raye. It played on the radio yesterday morning as my wife and I did our food deliveries. I ‘adapted’ it to “Where Is My Congress?” The Neurons like that twist and kept it in the morning mental music stream.
I enjoy the song on its own, though. Here’s the sample lyrics for you.
Sample Lyrics
Baby (whoo-hoo), where the hell is my husband? (Whoo-hoo) What is taking him so long (whoo-hoo) to find me? Oh, baby, where the hell is my lover? Getting down with another? (Whoo-hoo, yeah) Tell him if you see him, baby, if you see him Tell him, tell him he should holler
Why is this beautiful man waiting for me to get old? Why he already testing my patience? I only fear he’s taking time with other women that ain’t me While I’ve been reviewing applications
Wait ’til I get my hands on him, I’ma tell him off too For how long he kept mе waiting, anticipating Praying to the Lord to give him to my loving arms And despite my frustrations
He must need me (he must need me) completely (completely) How my heart yearns for him Is he far away (is he far away?), is he okay? (Is he okay?) This man is testing me, uh-huh, uh-huh Uh, help me, help me, help me, Lord
Of course, yesterday morning, I was singing, “Where the hell is my Congress!” Then I created other lyrics.
May this day find you healthy, peaceful, and ready to vote blue and take the nation back.
Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, September 23, 2026.
66 F, we have blue skies, contrails, and the potential to hit 78 today, a fallish, warmish day.
One contrail fascinated me. Coming in from the southwest, the contrail cut east over Ashland’s airspace before turning due east for a short distance, then veered northeast. Studying the fat contrail, I wondered what air vessel caused those traces and what they were up to.
My wife and I were quietly reading the news this morning when she began railing about something. Engaged in thought, I didn’t play close attention.
Then she started up about Trump’s ballroom — the one he began building to distract us from the Epstein files, the one he said would be paid for by donors and cause taxpayers nothing. We talked about the story about the architect who quit the ballroom project because Trump, safety, and common sense. My wife was practically snarling when she quoted Trump from the story, “I am the code.”
Yes, I honestly get why that pissed her off. Trump loves claiming he knows more than anyone on topics, declaring that he’s an expert. The results say otherwise.
Your Trump Quote(s) of the Day:
My wife then went on about a pet peeve of hers, people parking in front of our house. One car has been there several weeks, which really gets her going. She says things, “I hate it when people do that.” Seems like overdramatic language to me, and unnecessary anger, but it’s a pet peeve. They’re not overly logical.
Anyway, I began chuckling to myself about her outbursts. Something in her tone caused The Neurons to play “Everything About You” in my morning mental music stream. The hard-rock Ugly Kid Joe song came out back in 1992. It’s a playful take on someone with a negative attitude expressing how much they hate things. They hate the rain and sunshine, beach and mountains, country, and city.
Sample Lyrics
I hate the rain and sunny weather And I, I hate the beach and mountains too, boo-hoo And I don’t like a thing about the city, no no And I, I, I hate the countryside too
And I hate everything about you Everything about you
And I don’t like a thing about your mother And I, I hate your daddy’s guts too, boo-hoo And I don’t like a thing about your sister, no no ‘Cause I, I, I think sex is overrated too
And I get sick when I’m around I can’t stand to be around I hate everything about you
As in played in my head, my wife said with a new spurt of anger, “I really hate Trump.” She then added, “And Mitch McConnell.”
So I think the song captures some thoughts very well. Especially when thinking about Trump.
I hope your day is filled with kindness and love, and things you like. May you live long and prosper. *smile*
Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, June 23, 2026.
Hot, mid 90s today, copy of yesterday for our valley.
We cope without using the A/C. I like them in cars and businesses, don’t like using them at home. At night, I cool-drench the house and that usually carries us through the day.
Smoke was in the air last night when I popped the door open. Not strong but I definitely smelled it. NextDoor had the answer: a controlled burn in the town next door. They have orchards. Blight had struck. To contain the blight and stop its spread, they cut off the affected limbs and burned them.
People were worried, though. We’re in a red flag situation. Sure, it was a controlled burn, but controlled burns can get out of hand.
Shows the complexity of the entire matter — drought, fire, trees, economy — on one succinct scenario.
At about 6, my wife went into the garage for something and returned. “I want to leave a door open and let hot air. Warm the house. It’s so cold in here.”
It was 92 outside. In the house at that point, it was 79.
She’s been having greater issues with staying warm. More issues with moving. Strength challenges. So freaking depressing to witness. Stoically bearing it, she complains little. Rocks to stand. Grunts with effort. Hangs on to balance herself.
We went to the growers market this morning. Bought baked goods for a friend and took them to him. He has Parkinsons and cancer. His wife is away on a trip with her sister to Alaska. The woman needed it.
Our friend is doing well. The housekeeper was in, finishing. Said she’d be back at 5. Meanwhile, friends are delivering pizza for his lunch at 2 PM.
It takes a community to cope with these things.
I had a pre-op telephone appointment for my bladder cancer on Thursday. Usual stuff about times, bathing with Hibiclens, drinking fluids, eating, where we’re going, where to park, how long it’ll take.
My wife asked, “What about afterward? What’d they say about that?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. This was pre-ops.”
“They’re all so compartmentalized,” she snapped.
I can’t argue that. It’s very true.
My wife and I chatted about the news. She had just read about Trump’s claim that the economy is the ‘opposite of a recession’.
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
This seems like another part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, an attempt to distract us from what’s really going on.
Anyone living outside of a millionaire’s bubble will probably take issue with Trump’s claims. People are dealing with rising costs associated with energy, housing, food, consumer goods, and healthcare. Trump seems to believe that making these claims will make them true or enough people will simply go along with him on his magic thinking ride.
For the record, for example, oil prices aren’t even down to the levels they were when Trump took office.
Beyond Trump’s fractured economic reality, people are awakening to the MOU that ended Trump’s Iran blunder that cost lives and money. They’re basically responding, WTF?
Besides the ongoing saga of the Epstein ballroom construction, we’re also dealing with Algaegate. Trump is straining to point the finger at someone else for the clear disaster that it’s become. It’s such ugly optics, but it perfectly summarizes Trump’s flawed grip on truth, facts, and history.
Today’s music is “Helpless” by Neil Young. Reading the news on some days just engenders that frustration and helplessness, a sense of ‘go do something.’ Protest, scream, call people, write things. Some mornings, I’m a stick stuck in the mud. But I drink my coffee, write out some of my anger. Suck in some air. Count my advantages. Move on for a short while, at least.
“Helpless” is performed by Neil and The Band. Hope you find it worthwhile to hear and watch.
Hope you’re feeling good, doing well, and looking forward to better days.
Sunshine lit up the room today. It’s Thursday, February 5, 2026, in Ashland but the weather defies that date. Papi and I went out to the back patio and enjoyed sunshine.
“It feels balmy out,” Papi noticed.
“I agree,” I answered.
Oh, wait; reverse that. Papi agreed to me, or so I thought from how he threw himself down and rolled around, inviting a belly rub and purring.
62 F online, my home says it’s 69. White pulled-taffy clouds have a small footprint in the dominant blue sky. Highs might crest 70.
Talking with friends last night, we agreed, nice weather but worrisome for the coming summer’s water needs. Meanwhile, sis sent me photos of her glistening snowclad yard, pretty but 22 degrees.
I showed sis’s snow photo to my wife. “Yes, it’s pretty until it melts,” my wife offered. I agreed.
My wife mentioned that TrumpRx was launching tonight but didn’t think it would do well.
Trump certainly has a chaotic and checkered history that sets his efforts up for doubt. As for TrumpRx, we’ll see. Only time and facts will reveal the truth.
The Neurons pulled a strange song into the morning mental music stream. “Kings and Queens” by Aerosmith came out almost fifty years ago. I knew it from their album but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it on the radio. Yet, there I was, singing it to myself in the kitchen as I fulfilled Papi’s feeding needs.
I suspect the song came up because I’m serving Papi and thinking about recent political developments.
Onward into the day’s mettle with hopes that peace and grace find and carry us. See you on the other side of the coffee cup.
As part of a celebratory do my wife recently organized, we ended up with 100 plastic plates. Small, white, with gold trim, we’d purchased them so guests could enjoy some finger foods.
She had them stacked in the sink and mentioned that she had to wash them. I asked, “Want me to wash them?”
My wife replied, “I didn’t want them to go into the landfill, and I think they can be used again. I already washed them, but I think they feel greasy, so I want to wash them again.” Then she walked away.
I drove into a Trader Joe’s parking lot to park and shop. I was driving my old white BMW 2002, a car I haven’t owned since I left Germany in 1991. It made ‘dream sense’ because I was about the age I was when I owned the car.
The parking lot’s left side was completely empty, bewildering me — why wasn’t anyone parked there? A large sign, facing the wrong way, explained not to park on the left side. Oh.
I moved my car. An older couple, dressed in fancy clothes, was there. I told them as I walked away from my car, “It would help if the sign faced the entrance, you know? Is something going on here today?”
They didn’t answer me but I heard the man saw as I walked away, “He’ll find out.” The woman tittered.
The store was busy inside. I decided to put down my cloth shopping bags for a moment and put them on a chair back by the older couple. Inside, shopping, I decided that I would buy a few things and picked up a frozen dessert that attracted my eye. As I thought about buying a few more things, I remembered that I’d left my shopping bags on that chair and rushed back to get them.
The bags were gone. I searched all over, but they were definitely gone. Morose, I returned inside to buy the frozen dessert.
Going back, my car was parked elsewhere but I knew where. It was also not my white BMW, but my wife’s gray Ford Focus. I went to the car’s right side to get in. Then I stepped back out and looked again where it was parked. The car to the left was so close, that door — which should be the driver’s side door — couldn’t be opened. I thought, it’s a good thing that I don’t drive on that side. Yet, I knew, with some confused reflection, driving is done from the car’s left side, not the right.
I was driving at the point and discovered a passenger, a pregnant young woman reading a book. First, I noticed that the book had my name on the front, but, startled by her presence, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you there.”
She replied, “I’m Gail. My daughter was with you when you were driving an SUV in a foreign land, a wild country. She wanted to visit you because she’s worried.”
Driving, I wondered and asked, “Is your daughter born yet?”
Gail answered, “No, but she’s due.”
I then turned left. The road ended and I was suddenly driving through a woods heavy with water puddles and thick, black mud. Gail said, “I want to get out here.”
“No,” I replied. “I don’t know what happened to the road but I’m turning around. I’ll take you back and let you out.”
I whipped the car around and was back on the road in a few seconds. Gail got out. I opened the hatchback to put a bicycle in because I knew it was mine. Then I wondered, why is my bike here?
Ashland continues a weather pattern of cold nights, warming days, blue skies, and air stagnation. Blue skies came, went, and returned yesterday. Like yesterday, today’s highs will register over 50.
I’m happy to report that Alexa, online, and my system closely agree that it’s cold this morning. Alexa calls it 31, my system tells me it’s 27 F, and Ashland’s temperature online says, 32. Rejoice!
It looks warmer out there, an illusion of golden sunshine on majestic but naked oak branches lit against sky blue. Stepping out, as Papi will tell you, is a different matter. He did his business and hurried back in to work through breakfast.
Mom and sis each report adjustments have been made, and acceptance of their new relationship is growing. Each still complains about the other but in gentler terms, with more compliments for one another sprinkled in. Hope remains alive that Mom living at sis’s house will eventually thrive.
Sis says they’re preparing for a big winter storm in Pittsburgh, up to twelves inches of snow. She stocked up on baked goods to prepare.
It’s always interesting how things change and stay the same. Weather is one, Mom and sis are another. Trump is a third.
Trump wants Greenland ‘for the United States’, threatening eight allies with tariffs. Global markets responded with fast drops based on worries about a trade war. Whether that impacted Trump’s thinking, he withdrew the tariff threats on those eight nations.
Nobody has received that check. Trump didn’t remember making that promise when people asked about it.
And, let’s not overlook the Trump phone. Promised in 2025, there were rumors of about 600,000 pre-orders. None have been reported as received or delivered.
I’ve heard whispers from some that maybe a tipping point was reached with Trump. I’m not sure that’s so and won’t let myself get optimistic about it.
Thinking about what they’d seen, The Neurons brought up Green Day and their song, “Waiting”.
Now, time to chug coffee and head out to the repair shop to deliver my wife’s vehicle and await their verdict. The car sometimes completely dies without warning. It’s over 20 years old but in good shape, so we have our fingers crossed that something quick and easy will be found. Taking a book with me, in case it’s a long wait.
I hope positive energy fills your day and good things come your way, today and every day. Cheers
My wife’s car died on her the other day. Absolutely no power — lights, radio, engine, etc., a very disconcerting event. Fortunately, she was in a parking lot and easily steered to a safe place. It started right back up, but you can imagine the alarm a car dying without warning can give you.
A 2003 Ford Focus purchased new, 110,000 miles are on the car’s odometer. It’s been garaged for all of its life and pretty well maintained. She only uses it for local buzzing around, usually driving just three miles in any direction. Once a month, she might go further, up to twelve miles away.
Now, though, she’s working on a project that requires her to meet with others, pick up things, all that. The big event is Feb. 1. She’s been working on it for months, pulling it together.
I’ve been trying to convince her to trade in the Focus for new wheels for years. In fact, when we bought our CX-5 over ten years ago, it was supposed to be her car to drive. We would then purchase a second car for me and trade in the Focus. She reneged on the agreement and kept her car.
I told her to take the Mazda but, she doesn’t want to drive it, having driven it once since we bought it.
So, it’s a drop everything, change my schedule day to get this resolved. I drove her to her appointments and local garage will check it tomorrow. I have my suspicions about the cause, but we’ll wait for the experts.
The holiday party season has kicked off. One day already this week. Tonight is the second. Then there are parties, outings, brunches, and get togethers on Satyrda, Sunda, Twozda, and Thirstda. My spouse is quite popular. That’s a lot of socializing for one like me, who, my wife tells me, is a virtual recluse. Thank dawg for the breaks.
Getting ready was easier this year. Weight loss has given me a broader range of clothing choices. Hurrah for that. Most important part of this was that I didn’t need to iron anything. Hurrah for that!
Also, my wife still giggles whenever she encounters me in underwear with a shirt and socks but sans pants. Come on, girl, it’s been more than fifty years. Do you really still find it that humorous?
Guess it’s one of those eyes of the beholder things.
