Tag: summer

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Monrainbizy

Ah, Monday, September 16, 2024, a day of conflicting energy. We’re sleepwalking through summer’s last days in the nothern atmo, at least in Ashlandia’s tiny, tiny slice of it. Autumn is fast closing in, rendering the weather as a short season called sumumn.

As it’s Monday, people must endure the back-to-work energy and the commutes and setups and activities so associated with beginning a new work week. September has piqued and we’re slipping down its backside. The brings the month and the week different energies, but it’s also the last month of the third quarter, with yet other energies. And school has swung into gear, with its activities and demands. These all crash together like a restless sea.

Sumumn has brought his cool night temps. It’s ranging around 56 F at this moment. Clouds and blue skies are mixing it up. Rained last night, leaving us with wet foliage and earth. Angles, distance, and clouds force the sun to work harder to get some heat and light to us. Gonna peak in the upper sixties on the thermometer’s top end.

We’re all talking about the second assassination attempt on Trump. We wonder if the right wing’s continual threats of violence and their stated determination to take us back fifty years socially, blended with many on the right stating how much they hate Democrats, Liberals, and Progressives, could be triggering others to take action. Imagine the lasting infamy which would be attained for a bent individual if they could claim the title of The Man Who Shot Donald J. I don’t want Trump assassinated; don’t think it would be good for the world’s political dynamics. But I do wonder how much of his hateful rhetoric affects the situation. Then again, that reasoning irritates me as it reeks of ‘blame the victim’ mentality. Yes, I’m in a sore spot over it.

Trump will likely harvest a few sympathy votes from this latest attempt. Some will also christen him as tough and brave, and that’ll win their votes. I remain focused on the man’s character flaws, multiple lies, confused speechs, broken values, and lack of coherent, substantial policies to make my voting decisions.

Now, I admit that on the last, he seems to have a group backing him with very coherent and substantial policy ideas in the form of Project 2025. But Trump is trying to distance himself from that after the American people reacted to it like a load of crap-filled diapers. Which is probably why Trump lacks coherent and substantial policies; he can’t say they’re good ideas because most voters hate those idas and would vote against him. Trump is cunning enough to understand that.

Moving on.

Today’s song has been played here before. But, once The Neurons have made their play choice, they’re like a toddler, demanding to play it over and over again, making me feel a little nuts. So it is today that the theme music comes via John Fogerty and Creedence Clearwater Revival, aka CCR or C.C.R. Their 1971 song, “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” has a lock on the morning mental music stream (Trademark wet).

The song isn’t really about the weather, but about the depression and tension the group members were feeling even as the band achieved greater success. In a way, that metaphor about rain and weather can be applied to the U.S., that even as we taxed the rich and built our infrastructure, financed public education, and ensured everyone’s right to vote was realized and protected, forces within the nation were becoming dissillusioned and delusional, leading us to the polarizing facturing we now face. Will it break up the band (the nation)?

Be strong, stay positive, and vote blue in 2024. Vote against Project 2025. Vote against taking away people’s voting rights. Vote for protecting the environment and addressing climate change.

Here’s the music. Uintentionally ironically, it’s Fogerty playing it without CCR in 2005. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: speculativitis

It feels like a diluted summer day. An archapelago of gray fuzzed small white clouds spill across the sky. Today’s blue is diluted into a pale hue. Weirdly feels like rain is possible in the cold mountain air shouldering me through the window. But it’s 70 F at my house and will top off at 99 F.

Of course, summer is on its heels. Autumn is crowding in again. This is Friday, September 6, 2024. Diluted, the door is also pregnant with a sense of finality. I don’t know what pseudo psycho-quantum vibes has me feeling that.

I read my fill of the story about the Apalachee school shooting. The alarm buttons in the IDs. The congratulations that the system worked and kept the loss of life down, spoken without irony. The continued reporting that the system failed because the kid had been investigated by the FBI who couldn’t tie him to the social media threats he’d previously made about carrying out a school shooting. The later news that the father had been arrested for his role after giving his son the murder weapon for a gift — after the child had been investigated for making the threats.

The wonder, the murder weapon was a Christmas present. Ho, ho, fucking, ho. Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men. Anyone care to bet that it was part of a Black Friday special? How sinisterly ugly is that?

The wonder, what were the dynamics in that household, with the kid allegedly making these threats and also apparently asking for mental health help, and Dad giving his boy, a troubled 14 year old, a killing machine? The wonder, what is the truth, and will this shit ever change?

Bet there are a lot of hopes and prayers being offered the family of the dead. They can take those hopes and prayers and add five dollars and have a coffee at Starbucks as they grieve.

All this has The Neurons playing “Once In A Lifetime” by the Talking Heads in the morning mental music stream (Trademark cracked). The 1981 song has a refrain that goes, “Same as it ever was. Same it ever was.”

You get where I’m coming from. I mean, mass shootings are a recurring part of the U.S. news scene. And let’s not overlook the other shootings. Children accidently killing themselves or another child because they found Mommy’s gun.

Let’s not overlook how frequently police officers are being ambushed and killed with firearms.

Yeah, but we don’t have a problem. Thoughts and prayers will take care of that shit.

Meanwhile, I’d read of Don Old Trump’s response to a child care question. This is part of it:

“But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about — that, because look, child care is child care, couldn’t — you know, there’s something — you have to have it in this country. You have to have it. But when you talk about those numbers, compared to the kind of numbers that I’m talking about by taxing foreign nations at levels that they’re not used to. But they’ll get used to it very quickly. And it’s not going to stop them from doing business with us. But they’ll have a very substantial tax when they send product into our country. Those numbers are so much bigger than any numbers that we’re talking about, including child care, that it’s going to take care. We’re going to have — I look forward to having no deficits within a fairly short period of time, coupled with the reductions that I told you about on waste and fraud and all of the other things that are going on in our country.“

And nothing in the rest of the answer will stop the swirl of ‘what is he talking about’ that’s circulating around many people’s head.

Also, though, I’m amused by the cognitive dissonance needed for this question to be asked in the first place. Project 2025’s architects wants women to return to the home and take care of the family. She won’t be working; ergo, child care isn’t needed in their heads. Plus, they want to remove barriers against children working. So the child won’t need anyone to take care of them, because Mom will be home, or when the child is old enough, they’ll be at work to help support the family, which will be needed now that Mom doesn’t work.

Asking Trump, which Project 2025 specifically mentions throughout its contents, with many of the authors directly tied to him, what he’s going to do to help with child care costs for working women, demonstrates that some folks just aren’t paying attention.

Hah, same as it ever was, right?

Pause. Or maybe the person asking the question knew and got the answer that they wanted: he’s not thining about it, and is incapable of forming a coherent sentence about it. If so, brava to her.

Alright, let’s roll on. Be strong and stout and positive, and vote blue. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: itsamellow

Can you believe it? It’s already Monday in America. September 2, 2024. Labor Day.

Windows are parted to invite the outside in. Right now, a distant chain saw whines and screams. A single car motors past as lawn mower mutters and roars. Voices which seem male carry across the air. A gas leaf blower is powered up and voices its song.

It’s cool air these machines violate, just stealing through the fifties as the sun arcs over trees and mountains, surmounting a flawless blue sky. Today’s high will see a descent from yesterday’s highs. We saw 100 at home, a surprise when forecasts called for 94. The net variously reported the high at 96 and 98 F yesterday. Today’s rise will see us through into the bottom 80s. Same is exected for tomorrow but the rest of the week will see high summer heat.

Meanwhile, trees are dancing in new autumn foliage already. Our tree’s dark green leaves already has lemon yellow clumps of leaves dotting the boughs.

Continuing with a night theme, The Neurons reprised Corey Hart’s 1983 song, “Sunglasss At Night”, and have it circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark deep sixed). It’s a new wave techno pop hit with 1980s stylization. Blowing out of FM stereo in a car, inspiration for the young, including me, was almost instantaneous. Especially at night. But it’s true pop, nothing deep.

Stay positive, remain strong, vote blue, and let’s move on to a brighter future. Work needs to be done to make that happen. I got my coffee; here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: superfrifeelife

The pendulum is swinging. It’s Friday, August 30, 2024, and the hours of daylight have noticeably reduced. It’s an advantage at sun soars through blue cloudless skies, working with the air to lift the temperature next to triple digits during the day, like 97 F today. But then the clear skies and longer night lets the temps skivvy down to the upper fifties, delivering relief. Slips of autumn have climbed back into my life. Some maples have shifted into fall fashions. Starbucks is offering fall drinks. School is back is session at every level locally. And football is again rolling across TV screens, carrying news through feeds.

But first: we must get through Labor Day. In the U.S., we have the bookend holidays of Memorial Day and Labor Day. To many, MD marks summer’s unofficial beginning, and LD is the unofficial end.

I read several news articles in depth this morning. One was about how Republicans have softened their climate change stance. They rarely outright deny it these days. I guess that with so much extreme weather killing and maiming our world, they recognize that they look and sound like fools when they do. Instead, they like to problemtize the solutions which Democrats — and much of the world — recommends. Like moving to more sustainable forms such as wind and solar. No, these caus more problems, they inform their constituents, even as they lie about what’s happening.

Last day of my theme of time in the song’s title. As many of age and are forced to cope with changes, we lament the same thing. The Neurons brought the song that asks the question into the morning mental music stream (Trademark timed): “Where Have All the Good Times Gone?” It originally popped onto the rock music scene in the hands of the Kinks in 1965. It’s since been covered by a chunk of performers, most notably Bowie and Van Halen. But I stayed with the Kinks for this day. Ray Davies of the Kinks wrote it and said in an interview:

“We’d been rehearsing ‘Where Have All the Good Times Gone’ and our tour manager at the time, who was a lot older than us, said, ‘That’s a song a 40-year-old would write. I don’t know where you get that from.’ But I was taking inspiration from older people around me. I’d been watching them in the pubs, talking about taxes and job opportunities.”

h/t to Wikipedia.org

I certainly feel the question more now as a young elder (68) than I did when I was ten, at the song’s release.

But let’s face it, things are so much easier today. Let it be like yesterday. Please let me have happy days.

Coffee has been extensively sampled. Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Here’s the music, and away we go. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Marketdue

Tuesday is singing through the open windows. A train’s whistle, the bottle recycle truck with its growl and crashes as bottles are thrown into a pile, cars hustling the asplalt. School has begun; the vibe is different. It’s August 27th. Summer’s talking about finishing for 2024.

We drink coffee and surf the net, summoning the energy to launch ourselves to the Growers Market for fresh produce. I have vowed to find a turnover or scone to eat in a late breakfast. I’m ready to go, for I’ve downed some coffee. My wife is moving more slowly.

Purpleair says our air quality is declining and has crossed the line from good to whatever is a littl worse than good. It’s 62 F now but indications are that it’ll chug up to the mid 80s F today.

I continue with time as the theme, as in time must be in the song’s title. A great quantity of rock and pop songs met the standards. Everyone sings about time but nobody does anything about it.

The Neurons have found an oldie. It thrashes the morning mental music stream (Trademark stalled) as I sit here. “Let the Good Times Roll” came out in 1946, ten years before my birth. Louis Jordan was the performer. But in my lifetime, it felt like it B.B. King owned it. I turn to B.B. for today’s primary version, as that’s what I’m hearing in my head.

Stay positive, be strong. Black coffee helps me with those things. Here’s the music. We’re off to the market. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffstalgic

News stories scan make me blanch. Yes, of course there are feel-good Olympic stories. News outlets thrive on those. They sell clicks and papers and increase viewership. People want to feel good about the world. They don’t want to read of a school bombed in Gaza City with nearly 100 killed. And they want to turn away from the Trumpstorm that is the 2024 GOP campaign. Weird describes their candidates and also describes some of the base, but what describes the rest?

Baby formula recalls, Venezuela, Elon Musk, X.

Here, we’re dealing with wildfires and smoke pollution. Wildfires are being fought not just all over Oregon but California, Wyoming, Washington, Idaho, Colorado…that’s just the tip.

This is Saturday, August 10, 2024. There are less than 90 days until the elections.

It’s 62 F. We’ll see our average and usual high today, 92 F. Good. The air is low moderate again, and I can see the mountains and blue skies today.

A dancing outing is planned for Lake of the Woods Resort. The air is checked. Not good. Discussions are engaged: should we still go?

Time to start a new theme week. The idea of going out dancing brought up a bunch of songs for The Neurons, so that’s this week’s theme: dancing. One of their favorites, now circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark burning) is a 1983 fast-tempo beat by the Pointer Sisters called “Neutron Dance”. Point of order for The Neurons: this is not “Neuron Dance”. Yes, that is how they hear the lyrics, but that doesn’t change the truth.

Though coming out of the techno 1980s, it’s a song for the current era. Themes like homelessness — “The rent is due, I got no place to stay.” Weariness: “It’s hard to say just how some things never change and it’s hard to find any strength to draw the line.”

don’t wanna take it anymore
I’ll just stay here locked behind the door
Just no time to stop and get away
‘Cause I work so hard to make it every day

[Refrain]
Whoo-ooh
Whoo-ooh

[Verse 2]
There’s no money falling from the sky
‘Cause a man took my heart and robbed me blind
Someone stole my brand new Chevrolet
And the rent is due, I got no place to stay

[Refrain]
Whoo-ooh
Whoo-ooh

[Chorus]
And it’s hard to say
Just how some things never change
And it’s hard to find
Any strength to draw the line
Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance

[Verse 3]
Industry don’t pay a price that’s fair
All the common people breathing filthy air (Lord have mercy)
Roof caved in on all the simple dreams
And to get ahead your heart starts pumping schemes

[Chorus]
And it’s hard to say
Just how some things never change
And it’s hard to find
Any strength to draw the line
Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah)
I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance

[Refrain]
Whoo-ooh
(Whoo-ooh)
I’m on fire, yeah
I’m on fire, yeah

[Chorus]
And it’s hard to say
Just how some things never change
And it’s hard to find
Any strength to draw the line
Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah)
I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance

Let’s all sing it and dance. h/t to Genius.com for the lyrics. Easier to copy than typing them all out.

Stay positive — I now, I’m one to speak — be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Coffee and I have met up on a drink day. Here’s the video. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: summerpositive

The cats and I agree, it’s a strong sun today, biting my skin with its heat, blinding my eyes (yes, what else would it be blinding — my ears?) with its light. Not supposed to be hot today, just 87 F, and it’s just 67 F now. This is Monday, Jun 24, 2024.

The cats are pratically living in the backyard, slumbering beneath bushes or stretched out, floof-napping in green patches of lawn. They come in to visit me, get fed, and use the litter box, and then dash back out. Reminds me of being a young child in the summers, doing the same with Mom. Except I didn’t use a litter box. Not in those days.

I jest, of course! Spoke with Dad yesterday. He’s down. They — the omniscient they here is the medical staff — are pushing for the dialysis port, and he doesn’t want to go through with that. He seems fazed by the surgery and claims he doesn’t want to be a burden on people, as others would need to drive him to his appointments several times a week. I’m sure he will go through with the procedure but he needs to work himself up to it. I called him this morning to chat with him but reached his voice mail. I need to call Mom to catch her up on that news. Never did call her yesterday.

Terrible flooding in the midwest. Iowa was severely hit. Evacuations were ordered and bridges collapsed. I remember flying over the plains states decades ago. The floating and the heat dome are connected events. Hope the climate doesn’t get any worse or the nation and its citizens might start getting worried. Yeah, that’s snark, baby.

My spouse picked up a nice Charles Wysocki jigsaw puzzle at Ashlandia’s library of things yesterday. I thought we should have some on hand for more Internet outages. We began the puzzle last night, even though the net didn’t go out. Lovely little beach scene featuring an old house where a high school kite flying club meets. Kites lean against an old fence in the sand and a heart shaped balloon, tethered to the gate, floats above the scene, red against a cloudy blue and white backdrop. A few sailboats skim choppy waters in the background. I can almost smell that ocean.

Other than these matters and the standard form of our days of eating, cleaning, writing, reading, it’s quiet. I accept quiet. Still recuperating with my ankle issue.

Today’s music comes by way of Willy Nelson. I was reading about his show cancellations and the article reminded me of a gay cowboy song Willy sings. The Neurons immediately began a little rendition of the song, “Cowboys Are Frequently Fond of Each Other”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark grazing). Although Willy’s version came out back when Brokeback Mountain was gaining Oscar attention, I picked up a later version done by Willy and Orville Peck. Hope you enjoy it.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also brace yourself for a busy news week. With more SCOTUS news forthcoming, the end of June sending up a cloud of dust as it sprints at us, and the debates and the weather, I’m sure there will be a lot to talk about, read about, and GRRRRR about.

Coffee has been sucked down. Here we. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sour apple

We’re under one big cloud shield in Ashlandia, presenting us a gray, dim morning. It’s Thursday, June 20, 2024, and the summer equinox. Doesn’t seem it. Seems like spring rushed in for on more jolly. 58 F, though, we’re expecting the temperature measuring devices to show us temperatures in the high 80s.

For now, I’m hitting myself in the head regarding a series of ‘why didn’t I?’

Background: I have a toilet which won’t stop running. I’ve fixed these before so I wasn’t overly worried. That attitude didn’t help. I didn’t provide it the attention I should have. I fiddled with the flush valve and the water ceased flowing. Hurrah, right?

No, fool. I’m the fool. Not you.

I went out and bought replacement parts and I thought all was going well. So I took my time. Decided to address it late in the afternoon. Then I used the toilet and flushed. It started running; wouldn’t stop. Okay, time to fix it.

First move, turn off the water to the toilet.

It wouldn’t go off. I screwed around with that a bit. Then a bit more. And more. In fact, I wasted almost an hour on that. Okay, turn off the water to the house.

Where the hell is my shut off valve?

I walked around the house and looked for it but I’ve lived here a while and have never seen it. I researched on line for all the possibilities and searched them out. Not there, not there, not there, not there, not there. Finally found it where all said it should be, by the water meter, by the street, but it was buried. By now it’s after 8 PM. I tried turning off the water.

Couldn’t do it with my crescent wrench. Not the space to turn a crescent wrench in there, nor any other wrench. You need a special tool.

Of course! This is the age of special tools. (Cue singing, “This is the dawning of the age of special tools, age of special tools,” sung to the tune of The Fifth Dimension’s song, “Age of Aquarius”. My apologies for that. Also add a little snark about Trump and MAGAs being tools. Yeah, shame on me.)

Now this is where I really screwed up.

First, I didn’t think about rushing out and buying the special tool. My wife talked me into waiting until today to take care of it. But I can hear that water running. It’s not just a trickle, either. I can hear that waste.

Why didn’t I go to Home Depot, just a few miles up the road, and buy the tool? Why didn’t I call the city and say, hey, come turn off my water? I’d trapped myself with tunnel vision.

Obsessed with the running water sound, I woke up early and realized those things. Called the city. Asked them to send out someone to shut off the water. ‘Course, that’s not a real emergency, so it’ll take a while. Then I’ll go buy the tool so I have it on hand. And I’ll fix the shut off valve on the toilet and the stupid toilet. But I’m really disappointed in my poor judgement and weak thinking. Must not have had enough coffee.

Turning to the positive side of that, it distracted me from Mom’s situation, Dad’s hospitalization, my ankle, politics, and troubling news from around the world. Always a silver lining, isn’t there?

Finally, though, I harped on myself for not having the special tool on hand and for not knowing where my valve was. What if there had been a burst pipe in the house? I pride myself on being proactive and I was anything but all the way around with this.

People of course, will ask, why didn’t you just call a plumber? And here again, I’m up against myself: I like being self-sufficient. I like DIY. I dislike being ignorant about things and dependent on others. So, yeah, that’s all on the idiot I call me.

The incident of the toilet that won’t stop running inspired The Neurons, of course. They’ve programmed “Urgent” by Foreigner from 1981 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark: stuck).

Update: As I was typing, a worker arrived and shut off the water. I rushed out and spoke with him and learned about the dangers of turning if off myself — like breaking something, you know? A very nice guy, he’d heard the duty call phone ring while he was in a safety meeting and went out to hear the messages. Hearing mine, he left the meeting and came out and addressed my issue. Telling me to call back whenever I went it turned back on, he rushed back to the meeting. So easy; why didn’t I call them last night?

BTW, we did prepare for not having water by filling a water jug, a bucket, the coffee maker, the tea kettle, and the water pitcher in the frig. I hope that this isn’t shut off for long, but you know me, I’m an optimist.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is in me. I have a few things I need to go take care of now, so I’m gonna go. Here’s the music.

Happy first day of summer. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: weatherflective

It’s Monday, June 17, 2024. Ashlandia is drying out from yesterday’s late afternoon rain and more precipitation decorating the night. Branches are tangoing with the wind and a blue sky as dazzling as a diamond suggests, we have a nice day lined up for you, folks. It’s 50 degrees F out with humidity floating in the eighties and a chance for the thermometer to breach the upper sixties. Spring rules again, although all is fully bloomed, waiting for our entrance. I’m a little sneezy and itchy-eyed with allergies.

The neighborhood is so quiet, you can hear a cat meow. A flying crow chastises us as he beats wings to somewhere else. Cars roll up with stoic indifference, delivering a gentle rumble from engine and tires.

No updates on Dad. They were to call when opportunity for us to chat came. So, sigh, I wait.

Meanwhile, back in Pennsylvania, Mom is stirring up issues by claiming her beau made up an invitation that included Mom to go to a party with his family. She went to the party but did not enjoy herself because, she said, they were surprised to see her. She doesn’t think she was invited; my sister suggested, “Mom, you told them you weren’t coming. Of course they’re surprised when you showed up.”

But no, the invitation didn’t include her; it was manufactured. We don’t understand why he’d do that; discussing it logically with her is a task for someone with stronger shoulders. She doesn’t hear us, and doesn’t want to hear us. I remember taking conversations with her about this same matter fifteen years ago. It’s coloring our memories of her, making her bitter, angry, and hostile in our memories. That’s the problem with aging and living longer: we begin with a vision of who we want to be, and push efforts that way, and then our mind and body twist, erasing our vision.

Dinner with friends last night was entertaining. A jigsaw puzzle was begun. Featuring odd-shaped pieces, it’s not as fun as those with uniform shapes, even though it was an interesting scene from a museum with patrons.

This morning, we deliver for Food & Friends, and then I’m going to slip on my customary writing routine, and frequent the coffee shop. Ankle is wrapped. Swelling remains a matter to address but I don’t know how much is ankle injury and how much is my recurring edema. Ice, elevate, rest, but it’s tedious and mood-altering.

Songs came together today from thoughts of summer. Specifically, the heat wave riding others in the U.S. Out of that train, The Neurons pulled in “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand” from 1996 by Primitive Radio Gods. Starting with that B.B. King sample, it plays and repeats in the morning mental music stream (Trademark chillin’). See, it has a line in there, “Does summer come for everyone?” I think the ground for this song and its lazy, reflective tone by a song on another blog the other day, “Tom’s Diner” by Suzanna Vega. They have similiar feels to me.

Coffee is making the trip between the lips. Be positive, stay strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Let’s go get ’em, tiger. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Springtied

Spring has hardened its grip on its final days in Ashlandia, pulling us back out of sprummer. Cloudy, chilly, blustery, partly sunny, it’s a ‘y’ day. Temperature is hanging onto 60 F now, up from the low in the 40s. In fact, the heat came on this morning because the house’s inside temperature dropped to around 66. The horror of it all. Today’s high is expected to squeeze close to 67 F.

No matter, the cats have found outside places to chill. Tucker is under the bush off the patio right beside the front door. Papi is on the other side of the yard, under the bushes by the wooden fence. With these positions, they have the entire yard covered. These two positions have been coveted and held by cats since we first moved here in 2006.

Our Father’s Day plans don’t include fathers. I’m still waiting for an update on Dad. I spoke to his wife yesterday. He was in good spirits in the hospital and the fluid around his heart was being removed. She said she’d have him call me when the chance came. My wife’s father passed away back in 1991, just after he retired, right after he turned 65.

But we have this monthly thing with friends. Social people, about my parents’ ages, they’ve become housebound with health issues so once a month, we go to dinner at their house. Food is provided by a local restaurant. We take turns paying. Sometimes we watch sumpthin’ on TV; once in a while we work on a jigsaw puzzle. More often, we just chat and visit. We missed the engagement in May as I was in Pittsburgh (well, Penn Hills) visiting Mom and family.

I have the Rolling Stones singing “The Last Time” from 1965 in my morning mental music stream (Trademark fused). The Neurons didn’t reveal a reason for the song but I’d guess it has something to do with Dad being in the hospital.

Be strong, stay positive, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is making its way through my system, and here is the music video. Cheers

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