Tag: vacation

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Last night was beautifully clear and cool.The temperature dropped into the 50s. We were rewarded with a coolly comfortable house in the morning, third day in a row. I credit the skunks for some of that. We usually open our windows at night, and our doors for a few evening hours, to naturally cool the house. Skunks, though, were getting busy at eleven at night, releasing their odor and forcing us to shut the windows. The skunks have taken an August recess. Hope they’re not ending it soon.

Today is Satyrda, August 9, 2025. It’s 75 F now, feels 85 F, and is going to reach 91. Tomorrow, we stalk the century zone again. I think about how pleased I am that I used the cool stretch to get outside work accomplished. The flip of that is, while I was doing that work, I discovered — or sometimes, re-discovered — other work to be done at there. I’m bristling about it a little now because today and tomorrow are swamped with calls for other activities, like a memorial service for a friend. There’s too many of those things going on.

We’re going on vacay, too. Detailed planning plagues the days leading up to our planned departure. Food is the subject. We’re sharing a house with two other couples. Those four are a decade plus older than us. We all live under food restrictions. No this and that. I now have my own list. They all want to cook in the rented home. That’s apparently part of their vacation ethos: “Let’s go away and cook.”

Each couple is to provide dinner one night. We’re on our own for breakfast and lunch. My wife and I have a surprise dessert planned, a vegan fondue smorgasbord.

As I sat reading news and sipping my coffee, my wife said from her part of the office, “We don’t need to worry about him. He’s golfing today.”

“Not true,” I answered. “Thanks to modern technology, he can text something or call someone and launch a new round of craziness.”

Although we never said his name, we’re talking about the human wrecking ball named Trump, who is also known as TACO. My wife and I share some laughs over FAFO stories, like the Trump Burger guy who ICE picked up and plans to deport, Roland Mehrez Beainy. Beainy responds to the claims against him, “Ninety percent of the shit they’re saying is not true.” Well, that’s probaby so. This is the TACO regime. They’re addicted to lying, just their leader, TACO himself.

Shifting tones, my wife and I are angry about reports of how big tech is helping the TACO Regime. Apple’s investments, and Tim Cook’s gold offering to Trump sicken us. Amazon Web Services gave Trump a billion dollar discount. Gag, groan. Google slashed cloud services for the TACO Regime. OpenAI is giving Trump’s agencies access for $1 per year. Ordinarily, I’d think, look how great this is, with these companies helping the United States. But they’re not helping the U.S. Nothing Trump does helps the U.S. It’s all about him. And these companies are bribing him to stay on his good side.

Today’s music is “Pride and Joy”. This is a 1983 rock blues offering by Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble. My wife and I are both fans of SRV & DT, and we enjoy this song. But I don’t understand any segue that leads from what I dreamed, thought, or observed that led The Neurons to pull this one out and slot it into the morning mental music stream. It’s just one of those brain things, I guess.

Coffee has been sucked up. Its off to the races. Hope grace and peace finds and keeps you. Cheers

2

Thirstdaz Wandering Thoughts

It’s a silly one.

My wife doesn’t online bank. She doesn’t trust computer and web security. Mind you, she will shop online, no probs.

I am at my computer. To my left is a small bowl of pumpkin and sunflower seeds with almonds, cashews, and pistachio nuts. Unsalted and raw, these are my safe snack.

My wife said, “Can you login and check my credit card statement please? I want to make sure the vacation house payment was charged.”

We’d rented a place on the Oregon coast with two other couples. There was half up front with the rest paid thirty days later. It was decided my wife and I would front the costs and the others would reimburse us. I was the one who paid for it, because it was online, but I used the Visa account. Technically in both of our names as a joint account, we refer to this as ‘her’ account. The MasterCard is ‘my’ account. Yet, when it came time to set up the vacation home payments, I did it, using ‘her’ credit card. We did this by agreement because my card had several grand on it for my recent dental work — three implants, a biopsy, and a bone graft.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do it in a minute. Let me finish eating my nuts first.”

Laughter burst out of me and my wife. We’re so immature.

Told you it was silly.

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Twosda’s Wandering Thoughts

My sisters and I, five years ago (April of 2020), on a river cruise. I’m the one with the face fur. The sisters begin with the oldest in the right corner and sweep counterclockwise to the youngest in the lower left hand corner. We had a good time that night. I’m second oldest of the tribe.

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Munda’s Theme Music

When it rained, it poured. Ashlandia found itself in rain’s thrall this morning, Munda, Mai 12, 2025. Our usual rounds of complaints and hopes were expressed: rain is good, but so is sunshine, and the cisterns and reservoirs are full. It is nice to put done to the drought and have wet land and vegetation again. And soon, we remind each other, the sun will be turned on full and we’ll be drenched in sunny heat and triple digit temperatures. In other words, shut your mouth and enjoy what you got, we Ashlandplain to one another.

Temperature is 50 F. Mostly cloudy. Drying. Visibility has improved. Low clouds were embracing the ridge tops, bringing to mind the Allegheny Mountains in Western Pennsylvania, Eiffel Mountains in Germany, and the mountain ranges of South Korea. Now the cloud ceiling has lifted, but sunshine is still rationed like the last gallon of water. Ashlandia’s high will kiss 58 F.

Papi is not of a mind to enjoy the rain. He came into the house about dark rain thirty, yelling for company, food, and a towel. After testing the weather for half of the morning, he found a comfort zone on a bed and made it his temporary home.

Now, hey, look, sunshine has burst out on us.

Trumpland Munda has given us another mind-boggling start to the week. There’s his ‘big deal’ with China. Trump says he’s lowered the tariffs and made the greatest deal in the world; China says, “It’s a good first step.” Trump is actually undoing some of the mess he created. That brainless child called the stock markets responded with the giddy joy of a child being given a huge bag of their favorite sweets. Meanwhile, since it’s Trump, he could renege tomorrow. It’s also only temporary at this point, a pause, not a cancellation. Or it could just be another distraction, part of his long con.

Then there’s the new used Air Force One that Qatar ‘might’ give to Trump — I mean, the United States — for the nation’s use.

Trump’s Regime is arguing that its plans to lay off, fire, or terminate government employees should not be released to the public. Why, you might ask. Well, of course for the best reason of all: it could cause “embarrassment” or “annoyance” for the Trump Regime. So what if it’s completely disrupting millions of lives? Woo boy, that administration embarrassment or annoyance is a powerful, powerful reason. Yes, that was snark, since you asked.

Alongside those issues, Donald Trump Faces Criticism After Taking in White South African Refugees. Who is surprised by this double standard, whereby white people are welcomed, while people of color are denied?

Finally, the Trump Regime is talking about cracking down on members of the opposition party by arresting them, and further undermining of the Constitution by suspending the writ of habeas corpus is being discussed.

The week’s forecast calls for more chaos, lies, and bullshit in Trumpland.

Today’s music is “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan. This song came out in 2020 and was re-released in 2023. Now, suddenly, we’re hearing it all the time. Wikipedia labels it, “a pop, synth-pop, dance-pop, power pop, disco-pop, and disco track that describes the story of a woman moving to Southern California from her home residence of Tennessee, taking a job as a dancer in a gay club in West Hollywood despite her mother’s wishes.”

When my wife and I were on vacation on the Oregon Coast recently, this song came on whenever the radio was clicked on. Same thing happened today when we did our Food & Friends delivery. Not my style of music but its melody has gotten snarled in My Neuron’s morning mental music stream, and I can’t get it out. The best tactic in these situations is to share the song with others. That somehow loosens its hold on my brain.

The song has brought Chappell Roan significant commercial success and recognition. More importantly, in interviews, she talks about how freeing writing and performing the song was for her. She never felt like she belonged in her hometown. Creating this song empowered her. Congratulations to her. I hope she enjoys more success.

Hey, look, it’s pouring rain.

That’s how it goes on some days.

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Saturda’s Theme Music

A misty veneer keeps the sunshine under wraps. Mists devour the greenery, truncating the world view to a small circle of existence. Rain keeps everything looking wet. A secure house with a little heat keeps it all cozy.

It’s Saturda, May 3, 2025, and 46 F. Not far off from the tops of 50 F.

Our ride home yesterday was uneventful. Traffic was light and moved well. Fascinating to leave the coast and arrive in a warm and sunny day in Roseburg. We stopped for gas at the Costco station there and then zipped on down I5. Total travel time was 4.5 hours, with a stop to eat egg and cheese croissant sandwiches we’d bought at a bakery that AM, and the stop at Costco for gas, using the restroom, and wandering around that Costco for a few to get a taste of it.

We did have one close moment. A semi began moving over on us. Think he saw a ramp ahead where traffic was coming on. Didn’t see my silver SUV in his mirrors alongside him. Fortunately, we had shoulder room. I snapped us left and punched the loud pedal while my wife let out a large gasp. Looking back, I saw everyone slow down behind the truck. Took a long time before people began passing that truck again.

Today’s music was inspired by AKing. They reminded me in comments of Rory Gallagher and “Bullfrog Blues”. I first heard Canned Heat do the old blues song in the 1960s. I had it as my theme music back in 2019. You know, during the first Trump administration.

Well, did you ever wake up
With them bullfrogs on your mind?
Well, did you ever wake up
With them bullfrogs on your mind?
You had to sit there laughin’
Laughin’ just to keep from crying

And many of Trump’s bellicose, Constitutional contrary, authoritarian wannabe whining texts have me shaking my head. So it’s an apt theme song for today’s political atmosphere where you have to sit there laughing just to keep from crying.

Here’s a copy of Canned Heat performing “Bullfrog Blues”.

Then here’s a tape of Rory Gallagher and his band doing a rousing performance of the same ol’ tune.

Both renditions have me remembering and grinning.

Coffee has been reintroduced into my biosystems. Neurons are beginning to fire in order. Hope your weekend rockets you to good state of mind. I’ll do my best on my head. Here we go. Cheers

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Frida’s Theme Music

And then, it was over as fast as it started. We’ve been on vacation. Florence, on the Oregon coast. Sunshine baked us across blue skies and light winds. Baked is relative. Temps only crossed into the sixties once. But when you’re not expecting sunshine, a wealth of it can feel skin melting. In a good way.

This morning, Frida, May 2, 2025, was our final day. Gone was the blue sky. Withered sunshine made little effort to offset the cold air. A light drizzle was falling by 9:30 AM. It amused me; last time that we stayed on the coast, we had a similar experience. I joked at that time, the sky was crying because we were leaving.

We had an update on Papi. Joanne, our traditional flooftender had taken on duties. Much easier when it’s just one floof. We used to have five.

Papi has always been skittish and standoffish. Wary. So we wore concern on our thoughts for his welfare while we were away. Lovely to hear from Joanne before we left the coast this morning that Papi was an absolute sweetheart. Either there and waiting for her when she arrived each morning and night, or immediately turning up when she called him. The Orange Boi was very pleased to see us and looks good.

Terrible news came to me by way of my sister. You may have heard about the windstorms that cut through part of the U.S. a few days ago. Mom’s house in Penn Hills, a Pittsburgh, PA, suburb, took on some damages. 100 year old trees were uprooted or lost substantial branches. The side porch was torn away, along with the roof to the tool shed. Fallen trees and branches conspired to keep vehicles from traversing the road. She lost electricity. Their phones were almost dead with no way to recharge them. Food in the frig and freezer was lost. Super sister sent her awesome hubby to check on them and discovered their state. Super hubby is a plumber and has friends and relatives in associated professionals. He soon had people over there clearing trees and writing estimates, others bringing by power banks to recharge their phones, electricians to assess the problems. While many things were addressed, Mom still lacks electrical power. Fortune did keep them safe and uninjured but it must have been a few traumatic days for this elderly couple, 89 and 95 years old.

Into the morning men..tal music stream today came Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble performing “Crossfire”. It’s one of SRV’s later efforts. A solid rocker, less bluesy than most of SRV & DT, I enjoy it. My wife is more of a purist and dislikes the song.

Politics had a part slotting it into my MMMS. The Neurons thought after reading about the quid pro quo nature of the Trusk Regime that “Crossfire” was ideal theme music for this second day of May. The song rhetorically inquires, “Whatever happened to the golden rule?” I believe that PINO Trusk has monetized it, along with every other thing in the U.S. He wasn’t alone in his efforts. Too many of us were far to willing to go along.

Back home now, we picked up some dinner and ate it. Unpacked all luggage. Washed the vacation clothes. Folded them and put them back into drawers and closets. Now we’re just resting and recovering from being away from home.

Hope your day has been spirited with happiness or at least some modicum of joy. If not, tomorrow is another chance. Cheers

7

Bye

The lazy river waters silently glide by

Bird wings catch light and flash as they fly by

Time drifts slowly as the day goes by

Thoughts and plans meander as ideas come by

New memories and hopes form as life passes by

Other times and places are recalled with a soft good bye

4

Frieda’s Theme Music

Sunshine broke on through, just as the doors urged. Frieda, April 4, 2025 is a windy, sunny, warm spring day. High and thin clouds scrub some blue sheen of the sky. It’s 52 F and heading to the high sixties.

Papi the ginger blade was so happy. At first. Prancing into a sunshine pool, he washed and lounged. Then, wind ruffled his fur and pushed his ears around. The little Butter Butt pressed to come in, pronto.

A shopping day is planned. Our household subjects have veered between Trump’s impact on our personal finances and situation to buying a bidet attachment or something. “Should we get an attachment or a seat?” my wife asks. She’s rethinking herself.

“I’ll research and report back,” I reply.

“I’m not even going to look at my 401K,” she says. She means that. I will discreetly check it for her. Keep the results to myself. Mine has lost about twelve percent of its value. My other stock holdings have dropped ten percent. It’s early, though. I consider divesting all.

Today’s strong jobs report surprised me. But, then again, no. I’ve read of substantial business closings. Layoffs and terminations. Food traffic down in stores. Sales down. I’ve not read of any companies gushing, “Look, we’re hiring! Woo hoo!” Trump’s administration puts out those jobs numbers. He’s a known liar. So are the lackeys populating his regime. I’m sure they looked at the first set of numbers and told one another, “Oh, no, we can’t publish those. He’ll fire us all.” So they doctored the jobs number to look good.

PINO Trump tweeted about it this morning. Sorry, he X’d about it. “GREAT JOB NUMBERS, FAR BETTER THAN EXPECTED. IT’S ALREADY WORKING.”

What does he think is already working? Farmers are being hit, Federal workers have been shelved, tourism has dropped and is expected to drop more. The stock market keeps dropping…well, if you’re not in the Trumphosphere, you know. Projections are not rosy. First quarter reports are going to be interesting.

A friend added comments yesterday to one of my posts. They linked to a Jimi Hendrix song, “Still Raining, Still Dreaming”. Hearing that provoked The Neurons to begin different Jimi Hendrix Experience songs in my head. I ended up with “Stone Free” in the morning mental music stream. The song coincides with my urge to take a trip, see the coast. I’ve been working on my wife for such a trip. Her stars aren’t yet aligned enough. That doesn’t stop me from joining Hendrix to sing, “I got to, got to, got to get away right now.” But I’ll hold on for my other to be ready.

Difficult to find a good video of “Stone Free”. I went with this one, despite its sound glitches. I enjoy the members playing and seeing Hendrix’s fast, meticulous playing.

Coffee has made its morning visit to my body. I’m rockin’ and arollin’. Hope you have an awesome experience today, wherever you are. Cheers

2

Sunda’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m currently contemplating making arrangements for my wife and I to go the the Oregon coast for a break. You know the thinking: get away from it all. Take well-deserved time out from the usual routines. My injuries and medical matters curtailed many of our travel plans this year. Beyond that, the burden of caring for me, cleaning the house, and well, doin’ everything, was shoved onto her shoulders for several weeks. She held up well but she could use some downtime.

The thing is, it’s winter. Snow could come at any time. And we’d be driving through the mountains, often on winding two-lane highways. She no like. As a naturally anxious person, travel heightens her anxiety. Blend in additional risks like driving on snowy, icy weather, and she’s hanging over the edge.

In that way, she’s my polar opposite. I’m a calm and relaxed traveler and driver for most of the time, taking things as they come. When driving, I do get impatient with other drivers and vehicles. I allowed the impatience to take over when I was middle-aged. Now, I gently coax it back into its shell.

So I’m up in the air about what to do. Stay or go. Probably plan it and make reservations, and then buy the cancellation insurance in case the weather is too daunting.

6

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: homenormalized

Today is Saturday, August 24, 2024. It’s a chilly 54 F this morning. I turn on the fireplace and open the blinds. Light rain peppers the greenery with some needed moisture. Sunshine emerges and steam begins rising. Today’s high will be an un-summery 70 F.

We’re back in Ashlandia, where the worries are palpable and the angst is regular. A second well-established restaurant is shutting down after years of business. This is a trend we don’t like.

Ashlandia is dependent on tourism. Drought, pandemic, fires, smoke, and economics have all tested our tourism. Each have contributed to a point where the ‘you are here’ dot is tiny and prickly. We’re home to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It’s our major industry, abetting revenue brought in by being an outdoor adventure location for fishing, rafting, and skiing (Mt. Ashland) and what Southern Oregon University contributes. Under the impact of those big five factors of pandemic, etc., we’ve been in a slow downward spiral.

We’d already lost the seasonal business called the Water Street Cafe. It’d been a longtime draw but the owner passed and the survivors couldn’t make it work. It’s now a crepe place, and we have high hopes for that.

Last week, the Black Sheep Restaurant announced they’re shutting down. Now Cucina Biazzi is closing. We’re already lost many book stores like the Book Wagon, and coffee shops like The Beanery and Cafe Boulevard. In their place, we’re gaining used clothing stores, marijuana dispenseries, and tattoo parlors. This are not major draws when every other town is offering more of the same.

Being back home, I miss stepping out of the Waldport vacation house and into the seaside environment. I enjoyed going out there each morning and tasting the breeze, studying the tides’ levels, and gathering in sunshine and clouds. I do the same thing here, but it’s not the same with the ocean missing.

I begin another theme for the coming week today. The theme now is songs with time in their titles. Lots come to mind. The time theme came out of being stuck in traffic yesterday as an accident was cleared away. The first song offering from The Neurons is “Time Won’t Let Me” by The Outsiders from 1965. The fast-paced rocking roller is filling my morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed) like I was back in a neighbor’s Wilkinsburg basement listening to it on a 45 record. Actually, I think my memories have better fidelity than that little record player in use. I would’ve been about ten at that time.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has made itself comfortable in me. Time for the music. Cheers

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