Tag: Thursday

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sobersunnyreflectin’

Welcome to Thursday, Jan 9, 2025. We started out with the weather duplicating yesterday’s Ashlandia presentation. Sunshine lit up the bare trees, highlighting some frost, conveying a late fall scene. Walking through the house, I was thinking about how nice it was to experience early morning sunshine again. Temperature was 43 F, etc. But within an hour, fog was stealing the sun away from us and hiding out the blue sky. I thought, man, what kind of game is nature playing with us?

That thought triggered The Neurons. Within a few sips of java, The Neurons had Queen performing “Play the Game” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark late). Released in 1980, I remember listening to this song for the first time with two cousins in San Antonio. Both younger than me, both are deceased. One, a slender blonde guy, from a heart attack without warning at 43. The other, a slender dark-hair person who sparkled with wit and kindness, from cancer at 64. Sobering morning thoughts.

On the heels of those sobering thoughts were worries about the folks of southern California. Being in the Pacific Northwest, many who live in this town have California connections. Friends and family live down there. They work down there as musicians, nurses, doctors, teachers, and professors. So worry over the California fire scene is rampant up here.

The fog has lifted again up here. It still swirls around down in the lower elevations. It’s always interesting to go a mile into, traveling down a thousand feet in elevation to see how different the weather is.

I forgot to mention that I received the Christmas cards my parents had mailed me from San Antonio, Texas, and Pittsburgh, PA. The cards came in the Jan. 6 mail delivery. That DeJoy has really done wonders for the US Postal Service.

Coffee and I have struck a bargaining agreement. On my end, I’ll heat the water and put the ingredients together. On their part, the coffee will navigate my body and boost my energy. Here we go, on into 2025. Enjoy the music. Cheers

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Thurturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Hurricanefatigued

It’s supposed to be Thursday. Where I sit, it feels like Saturday. So it’s a hybrid day, officially Thursday, but more like Saturday in feel. Thurturday.

By the numbers, this is October 10, 2024. 54 F, it’s mildly cloudy. Highs might top 80 F, and there’s a chance of leaf showers. They’re coming off the trees fast in my backyard, energizing memories of being out there with a rake on a chilly day under a cloudy sky, cup of coffee off to one side to sustain me, raking and bagging. Sometimes, it would lightly drizzle. I prefer to keep the leaves in place as mulch but my wife dislikes that approach, so I put myself out there and get ’em up.

Pleased that Hurricane Milton seemed to have skimmed Florida without too much devastation and loss of life. Considering Milton’s smaller size but more powerful winds, we worried here in Oregon about what was going to happen. But Milton swept through fast. Yes, there’s some damage and flooding, and loss of life. Sorry to hear of all of that, of course, but that the levels of these things were not on the scale of Helene is a sort of release.

Now, I’d appreciate it if we could go without a hurricane for a while. I’m sure others have much stronger feelings on that than me.

With this mild but dry, warmish weather, the house floofs are making it their business to tuck in for long naps in their favorite yard spots and while out time with a snooze fest. I check on them regularly, and each will come in, tail up, for attention, food, or treats, but only after long hours outside sleeping. Guess these are the floof days of autumn I’d always heard about.

Today’s song is A Flock of Seagulls with “I Ran (So Far Away)” from forty-two years ago. It started in the morning mental music stream (Trademark purrfect) after a floof incident. Papi the ginger blade was the catalyst. Stepping from the house as Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) walked toward it, Papi darted at Tucker and made a little swipe. Toothless elderly Tucker, stopped, half-turned, and used his one good eye to give Papi a stare. Papi responded, “Whoa, shit,” and blazed across the yard to a tree. Springing halfway up it, he hung on and looked back at me. I thought his expression said, “See how far I ran away?” Seeing that (as I chuckled and Tucker completed his journey into the house), The Neuons kicked on the Flock with “I Ran”.

Stay positive, be strong and merry, and vote blue in 2024. I have introduced myself to a cup of coffee. Here’s the music video. Dig the hair. Cheers

2

Thursday’s Theme Music

Sunshine began a slow unveil of a cerulean sky at 5:34 AM. Edging onto the cusp of summer, temperatures in the mid-eighties will dominate our southern Oregon valley with the thermometer’s readouts dipping into the low fifties after the sun slides out of the area at 8:50 PM. Humidity is fading away. The heat grows dryer and more intense. Grasses veer browner. Wispier.

Today is June 17, 2021. It’s a Thursday, named after the pagan God of Thirst. Many still pay homage to Thursday’s roots by seeking thirst quenchers and libations in a mellow ritual called ‘Happy Hour’ after work on Thursday’s. Being a forward-looking dude, I did my genuflecting on Wednesday this week.

Getting ready to paint more of the house interior. Naturally, I’m singing AC/DC’s 1982 song, “For Those About to Paint (We Salute You)”. Oh, sorry, my brain informs me that I was misinformed about the title and subject matter. Never too old to get corrected on these matters.

Here’s the music. Don’t understand how I was wrong on those lyrics all these years. Maybe paint fumes were mesmerizing me. Stay positive, test negative, get the vax, and do as needed with the mask. To your health; cheers.

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Masquerade

The day was supposed to be a Thursday. That was the word from the calendar, and sources like computers, phones, and Fitbits. Other people asked, agreed, “Yes, today is Thursday.”

He remained unconvinced. The day didn’t feel like a Thursday. It didn’t feel like any proper day. His senses and thinking couldn’t penetrate the mask the day wore to see what day was under it. It definitely wasn’t Thursday. It didn’t seem like Friday or Monday. Distinctive in their feel, he thought he would have known them. Nor did it seem like a holiday behind the mask. Each holiday had its own uniquely cultivated taste and sound. He was certain that a holiday couldn’t be completely and successfully masked against his awareness.

Could it be Sunday behind the mask? It seemed out of character for Sunday. In fact, of all the days, he would expect Thursday to be the one that would pull a prank like this and masquerade as another day. Certainly it wasn’t something Saturday would do; Saturday was too full of itself to pretend to be another day.

An odd idea came to him. He had nothing to tell him it wasn’t Thursday behind the mask. If it was, Thursday was masquerading as itself, but doing a poor job of it.

He considered why that would be, why Thursday would want to pretend it was another day masquerading as itself. Doing a poor job of it would make him distrust everything about the day.

That was it. One of the days was up to something, and the way they were going about it was inculcating distrust in all of them. He looked around the day with sharpening suspicion, wondering which day could be, and what was going to happen. Whichever day it was, it was a cruel, cruel thing the day had done. If a day couldn’t be trusted, what would be next? Gravity? Sunshine? Time? That was all that he needed now.

Looking to the future with dread, he looked to the past with doubt, and stayed wary about the present, certain something else was about to happen, and completely unprepared for what it was going to be.

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