Tag: wind storm

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Today is Wenzda, September 3, 2025. Keeping up with the pace set by the previous months, the days are whipping by. Some temp sources say it’s now 80 F or 77 F. My Oregon Scientific station declares that it’s 72 F under a brooding, sunless sky. Today’s upper edge will tap the mid 90s F.

Today is Visit Eve for us. Wife’s sister and her boyfriend arrive tomorrow for a three-day visit. We’ve dusted, vacuumed, swept, mopped, polished, and shined all we can. It’s in Fate’s hands now.

Strong winds woke me at 2 AM. I jumped up for a situation check and closed windows. When I opened a door to see what was going down, Papi bolted in past me, telling me with his feet and tail that he didn’t like the wind as he disappeared down the hall to his safe zone. That strong wind was warm, almost hot, completely void of the usual cool mountain breezes we know at night. It departed the area about an hour later. I found no damages this morning. Papi acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to him.

Yesterday was a day for visiting with family. Sis and I texted for an hour to get caught up on the happenings. Sis had a Labor Day cookout. Mom couldn’t attend because she was in too much pain. A second sister and several nieces and nephews were absent because ‘they have colds’. I hope it’s not more than colds. Mom’s 90th natal day is in October. A big do is planned. My wife and I are discussing going back for it. We’re in favor of doing so but my wife is unsure if she can handle a long aircraft flight. She’s in a lot of pain and discomfort these days, and is generally weak.

Dad called yesterday, too. We spoke for an hour on the phone. My stepbrother and his wife flew in, surprising Dad and his wife. Dad said they had a good visit. Beyond that, Dad just reminisced about his old military career. I just let him talk. It felt like that’s what he needed. He’s doing okay with his health, but must monitor his failing heart and kidneys.

Today’s song is “Messy” by Lola Young. Released in 2024, I like its stream-of-consciousness approach about herself and her relationship. The Neurons have it going in the morning mental music stream because they note that life under the Trump Regime is messy. He and they are the most combative, destructive, chaotic administration in my lifetime, which only goes back to 1956. Trump gives the finger to history and due process. Just last weekend, he was caught trying to illegally deport children. Children, unaccompanied by any adults. He and his henchmen thought they’d use Labor Day to ship these children out to Guatemala. Like WTF? Only evil shitheels in movies act like this. Beyond Trump’s outright evil, we can never tell where his greed and grifting will take us. We only know that it’ll take us further away from any norms in culture, class, democracy, and economics.

Here’s some “Messy” song lyrics.

You know I’m impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station
When it was like minus four degrees? And I
I get what you’re saying
I just really don’t wanna hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?

Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I’m gonna die, lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so, yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I’m not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?

‘Cause I’m too messy
And then I’m just too damn clean
You told me, “Get a job,” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?

And I’m too clever
And then I’m too stupid, dumb
You hate it when I cry unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the whole damn lot

Coffee has leaped in to save me once again. Hope that grace and peace hold you and yours through it all today and forever. Let’s rock this Wenzda. Cheers

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Sunda’s Theme Music

May 4, 2025, broke as a Sunda. Rain falling off in the night, blue sky and clouds mix it up in a friendly competition. Sunshine comes and goes with the clouds’ permission. The weather ‘they’ is hyping a high of 65 F, part of a warming trend for the week.

Dreams delivered today’s song. The dreams didn’t include the song. Disturbing as a loud animal roar in a coal-black night, the dreams had me scribbling details for well over an hour. Part of that was the phrase, “I’ve been thinking.” More usually followed. Now, though, The Neurons picked up the phrase, found where it belonged in a song, and rolled it for me. The result in the morning mental music stream was 1990’s song by Londonbeat, “I’ve Been Thinking About You”.

I’ve also been thinking about Mom. Her house is a mess without electricity. Day 5. She was convinced yesterday to go to my sister’s house and stay the night. Mom’s live-in boyfriend stayed at his daughter’s house. Taking care of her has been increasingly difficult for him. Her drugs and illnesses dull her mind and make her moody. She snaps at him. That’s worn thin. With her mobility lessening, he’s forced to carry her. She’s lost weight and doesn’t weigh more than a few birds these days. Still, weight is weight. Repetitive bending, lifting, and twisting is wearing out his 95-year-old body. Both have refused to leave her house and move into assisted living. But with her energy diminishing, his strength dropping, her senses dulling, and his eyesight and hearing worsening, will this be the straw that changes their mind?

We don’t know. More than anything, they’re independent and stubborn. I see so much of her in myself in these matters. Intellectually, I understand. Emotionally, it’s a far more complicated path.

My coffee is half gone. The cat has completed a few laps around the inside of the house. Now he’s gone to find sunshine. I want to do the same but I’ve planned a full agenda for myself. Who knows if I’ll stay with it.

I hope the best for you and your day, and us and our days. Deep breath; 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

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Determoptimistic

November 20, 2024, finds us on a Wednesday. Gray and white clouds plaster the sky. 38 F and rainy out there. High will be four degrees north.

Winds are smacking the trees around. Tall conifers take the worse, swinging back from each punch, drunkenly rebounding. Began yesterday afternoon. By dusk, the wind was crooning around windows and corners. Then came sounds of winds running like tractor-trailers down the Interstate.

8:10 PM, blink, out went the power. People reported a bang. Others saw a large blue flash. Investigating crews found a surrendering tree had taken on a major power line.

My wife and I were in the snug when it happened. We turned off our computers. I moved through the familiar dark house, phone in hand in case I needed a light, to get a flashlight in a cubby by the foyer. Armed with it, I fired up the gas fireplace. We dug out candles and lit them, and several more flashlights, then checked messages and learned the tale of the outage via emergency texts.

Unknowing of how long the outage would be, my wife bathed by candlelit. The bath water was saved in case it got worse and flushing water was needed. Then she dragged out the Trivial Pursuit cards. We spent thirty minutes answering those, then we each armed ourselves with a flashlight and read. Fortunately, the gas fireplace kept us relatively comfy at 68 F.

Texts sent at 8:55 PM informed us the power would be back up within two hours. 10:35 PM, and the house beeped, chirped, and lit up as the power was restored. We learned we were the fortunate; a small section didn’t get their electricity back until this morning. Hope they all endured the night well.

Papi the ginger blade did not like this storm. Comfort couldn’t find him with all the noise. He finally decided outside, in his patio condo, was his safe space, staying there until just after midnight. About that time, the wind reset to a calmer level but rain poured out of the darkness. Papi came in to escape the wet, staying until sixish. Duty as patrol floof called then. Tail up, he bravely marched out.

Locally, I don’t spy damage on my street. Snow resides on pines and firs on the upper ranges. News reports are in that they’d closed the pass for snow on I5 from our southern exit to the California border.

Without revealing their reasoning, The Neurons invested the morning mental music stream (Trademark damp) with “Folsom Prison Blues”. Johnny Cash wrote the song, then recorded and released it n 1955. That was a year before my birth. It’s literally — and I ain’t talkin’ hyperbole here — been around my entire life. And I heard it. Mom had JC albums, so it was on there. Television liked Cash, and he showed up singing the tune on the small screen. Featured in movies, the rockabilly tune was heard on AM radio in cars and houses.

The Neurons may have pulled this up in response to a dream. I had a caper dream. Working with two other guys, we were stealing something but we’d been forced into it. They were setting me up, I found, so worked to subvert their plans. At the end, after all successfully passed and I was leaving, I found that one of the others knew of my plans and used them to save himself, in effect aiding me as he did. Fun dream.

Alright, let’s muster some positive energy. Coffee is in mug, ready to wash down my negativity. Here we go. Cheers

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Weird Tales

Into our lives come weird tales. Everyone has them. They don’t happen often for me, and I’m happy about that, and they’re not very weird. One happened last night.

I feel asleep reading and watching television in the snug. In the recliner, I was streaming “Case Histories” on Amazon Prime with the sound turned low. I’d seen it before, so I was also reading “The Lies of Locke Lamore”. We had a high-wind advisory in effect. I wasn’t worried. Two cats were weighing me down against getting blown away.

At two A.M., I awoke. The first thing I realized was that the cats had abandoned me. Second, I saw that the Roku had reset and was going through its update music. Interesting. Next, I saw with a glance at the modem that the network had reset. Well, I thought, the wind storm had probably caused some ISP issues.

Seeing the time, I decided to go to bed. Turning everything off, I left the snug, and then paused. The interior door to the garage was on my left. Not ajar, but not pulled tight, I could see that a light was on in the garage.

My wife or I must have left it on after going in there on an errand, I speculating, opening the door. But when I opened it, it wasn’t the garage interior lights that were on, but the garage door light. You know how that works? We have a garage door opener. When you press the button, a signal is sent. Receiving it, the garage door opener turns on a light and raises or lowers the door. That’s the light that was on.

That light wasn’t on before.

Being a cautious and paranoid person, I backed away from the door while keeping my eyes on it. Opening the coat closet, I took out the heavy metal flashlight we hang in there for emergencies. Not only does it provide a strong beam, but it has a solid heft to it, and can be useful as a weapon. See where my thoughts go?

Flashlight on, I first flashed it around the house, and then turned on the main hall light, and checked the front door. Locked. Okay. Going into the garage, I checked the side door. Finding it locked, I went around the garage to confirm nothing was out of place or missing, and everything was in order. Everything was as it should be. My mind dislikes vacuums, so I guessed, there must have been a power failure. I checked the clocks on the kitchen appliances. They were correct. Nothing anywhere indicated a power failure, except, perhaps the network and Roku. Going around the house, I repeated the process of checking doors and windows to ensure everything was closed and nothing was missing. Everything was as it should be.

The garage door opener light is on a timer. It now went off.

I couldn’t recall the garage door light going on after power was restored before. Maybe I had a faulty memory. Sleep and I had parted company at this point. I returned to the snug and read until I fell asleep. Then, awakening at three, I went to bed.

The garage door light entered my dreams. I was investigating it and testing different theories of how the garage opener light went on in my dreams. Jamie Dimon, CEO of JPMorganChase, showed up to help, but he was useless. In some weirder parts of my dream, the garage door mystery was discussed on MTV and everyone started eating jelly beans.

As an aside to the jelly bean part, we put up an Easter tree using pussy willows. They were placed in a glass vase filled with jelly beans to hold up the pussy willows. Now that Easter was over, I was allowed to eat the jelly beans.

The jelly beans, made by Brach’s, were pastel colors, and pretty. Their smell was reminiscent of sugar and marshmallows, drawing Easter basket memories up out of my youth. I tasted some jelly beans.

OMG, they were terrible. They tasted like sugar with a small effort to have a flavor like blueberry or cherry. I tasted different colors to see if I liked any. They didn’t have any black ones, which are my favorites. Of the colors presented, the orange ones had the strongest orange flavor, actually managing to overcome that sense I was only eating sugar.

Anyway, that’s my tale of the weird. It’ll probably be a few years before there’s another one. At least, that’s my hope.

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