Frida’s Theme Music

Mood: Decembristism

It was a dark and gloomy night but dawn broke as a bright, sunshiny day. Rain clouds knifed in during the intervening hours between now and then, thwarting the sun’s stalwart efforts to give us light and heat. Today is Frida, December 27, 2024. We’re surfing a 54 degrees F day, which t’aint a bad temperatures. The winds that scoured us last night have retreated. A kittenish breeze teases the trees.

Dreams rocked my night. All of ’em were quite personally oriented. Awakening from them had me thinking long and hard about them and what they meant, if anything. That’s often the issue with dreams: any meanings which your brain could be sharing gets wrapped and warped by confusing elements. Do they mean something, or are they just neurons gaming your consciousness?

Ran into a friend this morning. Well, not literally; we encountered on another. We’d not seen each other since October. I may’ve mentioned in posts here that I had ankle surgery in October and then immobolized by the recovery process. He didn’t know that and wondered where I’d been. I presented him a situation précis, with the main point being, that’s life. Afterward, walking away, The Neurons brought up a Dire Straits fave of theirs, “The Walk of Life”, into the morning mental music stream (Trademark aging). I originally associated the song with sports, especially baseball. Listening more closely, I recognized that it was about someone singing songs, and several references to rock and roll songs are heard throughout. An interview with Knopfler, the singer, songwriter, and guitarist behind the song, later confirmed this. Now I associate the song with anyone trying to make good through strife, keeping on toward a goal. This is life; you do the walk.

Days of 2024 vintage are trickling away. 2025 is coming up like a full moon over the trees. Time to rock on one more time. Here we go with the music. Cheers

Sinda’s Theme Music

Mood: Sindawriting

The calendar declares that winter has officially entered the stage. Still feels more like a good fall rather than early winter in Ashlandia, where Teslas are found around every corner. A riled up wind is carousing around the neighborhood, stirring things up. Doesn’t sit well with our floofs. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) says, “Merci, non.” But Papi the ginger blade insists on thinking, “Maybe it’s different now,” every fifteen minutes. Temperature isn’t bad at 49 F on this winter day, Sinda, December 22, 2024. Light rain and a high of 52 F are expected. Visuals say, yeah, that can be done. Clouds in varying densities from sheers to cotton layers in heather, oatmeal, off-white, and charcoal, pleasingly illuminated with eastern rising sunshine, set off against brittle blue sky, parade along the sky walk.

Today’s song is “Boys Don’t Cry” by the Cure. I don’t know why it’s in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blustery). I only remember one dream and it seems wholly unrelated to its tale of databases, strawberries, and fried food. Just in the kitchen, bustling about with floof feeding activities as Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) asks again about when he’s going to have his order delivered. Click, clink, bonk, the song is playing in the mmms and I’m humming along.

Done with the morning cuppa. Went down well. Brekkie is finished. Dressing’s final touches of shoes, socks, coat are needed, then I’m off to the coffee shop to cavort with muses and do the keyboard finger dance. Hope your day gives sublime satisfaction, no matter which season or weather elements are encountered.

Sa’day’s Theme Music

Mood: Drowsaday

I slept in today. Three aspects drove it. One, my foot was cranky for rest, two, the night’s weather, and three, my bed was seductively warm and comfortable.

Foot/ankle continues getting better but I press to improve. That sometimes backfires. It’s a two-step, you know, step forward, step back, step forward, step back.

The night weather, though, holy stormy, Batman. Wind was busy when we went to bed. Rain was dumping. Few hours later, I awoke to distinctive moaning and a freight train sound. My youthful tornado experiences mumbled to my sleepy mind, “That sounds like tornado.” I checked the time – 5:05 – and rumbled out of bed and to the outside doors. Looking for tornado funnels, of course. In the dark. Hello.

Papi was out. That dumbfounded me. I checked his back patio condo. His usual refuge, it was disconcertinhly empty. Rain was spraying through the covered patio, because the wind was shoving it sideways. So it wasn’t the safe harbor that it normally was. Given that, I pelted back to the front door. See if Papi was cowering around there. Nope. I did some calling and whistling. No Papi. Repeated that in the back. Watched, waited, wondered.

Back to bed. The wind dropped the moan and its freigh train imitation. Serenity settled over the darkness. Whap, whap, whap. Papi’s familiar rap carried from the front door. I hustled out there to bring him in.

His fur was dry.

To end the tale, I fed Papi and returned to be ’bout 6:25. Settling in, I elevated my foot. Tucker found my hand and rested his head on it. Sleep hit me over the head. When my awareness next resurfaced, the timepiece’s digit were showing 9:45.

Pretty out there today, Saturday, December 21, 2024. Everything is wet but drying. Nothing in my vision’s field is wind-disturbed. Sunshine and a cloud-marbled blue sky rocks the valley. Temp of 46 with a few degrees left until we touch the high. That might be deceptive; I just watched an elderly-appearing guy making his way up the hill past my house. Wearing a light jacket with bare hands, he yanked the zipper up as far it would go and pulled his hands up into his jacket sleeves.

Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark snoozing) occupant is Willie Williams with “Armagedeon Time”. Came ’bout from mind mutterings while listening to the wind and hoping the homeless and animals were all safe. But with lyrics like, “Lot of people won’t get no justice tonight” and “lots of people won’t get no supper tonight”, the song is a fitting tune to herald the coming year and concerns about GOP willingness cut up the nation’s social safety net.

BTW, this is it, shortest day of the year in the northern hemy. Take a few days but the days will cease their early sunsets and begin curving toward more hours of sunshine. Feels really needed as we end the tumultuous 2024.

Got coffee, had brekkie, and ready to boogie. Here’s the music. Merry solstice, ya’ll. Cheers

Winday’s Theme Music

Mood: windulated

It’s a windy beast out there this morning. Definitely a creature of autumn. Trees are shimmying and waving branches like they’re cheering on the University of Oregon Ducks football team.

It’s technically a Sattyday, or Saturday as they call it in some parts of the U.S., samedi in some other places. October 12, 2024. 64 with a lovely balminess riffing. Most of the sun action is obscured behind a cloudy gray monolith. Our air will tiptoe into the low to mid sevenities this day.

The cats are out there, trying to make out like they’re happy with the weather’s shape. But their dismayed whiskers reveal their truths, that this wind is disturbing their sleep, mussing their fur, and annoying them with its sounds. Whenever I go by a door or window and look out, they eye the house like they want back in. I will go back and see if that’s true. Both will probably come in. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) will stay but Papi will go back out. He has a short memory when weather is introduced as the topic.

You know who else doesn’t like the wind? DJ Trump dislikes the wind. The former President said some stuff about the wind at one of his rallies last week as part of his magic weave. This is lifted from a Huffpost article shared on Yahoo:

“The wind, the wind, it sounds so wonderful. The wind, the wind, the wind is, the wind is bullshit, I’ll tell you,” he said.

The crowed roared.

“It’s horrible, so expensive. Just too expensive. It doesn’t work. All of that to do y’know one tenth of one percent, I mean the whole thing is crazy,” he said.

Trump complained that wind power means people can’t watch television on days with no breeze.

He is right; the whole thing is crazy.

Speaking of wind, it’s a mess down in Florida after Hurricane Milton finished with them. Millions without power. Massive flooding. Sixteen dead, but people left homeless. Gas stations lack gas and alligators are swimming freely as a threat. President Biden has asked Congress to return to pass more funding for FEMA. Let’s see how the GOP reacts.

Moving on.

I have a friend with a fruitful fig tree, and she’s generous with its produce. After receiving pint after pint after pint of fresh, ripe figs, my wife baked a fig cake with a mix of almond and white flour. Excellent with coffee. I theorize it’d go well warm with a scope of vanilla bean ice cream as a dessert. But I’m having it this morning, cold with my coffee. Still fine riding on the taste buds.

All this wind thinking lends itself to songs about wind. I ended up with Kansas singing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blown away). The Neurons agreed with the choice (although they did campaign for “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger and The Scorpions’ windy offering, “Wind of Change”. So here is “Dust in the Wind”, the 1977 progressive rock offering.

Stay strong, be positive, and vote blue in 2024. Rock on with your day. I’ve been rocking mine with coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

Update: both cats came in and stayed.

The White Jaguar Dream

First, I was working for a friend I used to work for, Laura. She was a terrific boss, perhaps the best I ever had. Certainly in the top three.

I was injured in the dream and forced to wear a cast on my left arm. It struck me as an unusual cast but I can’t provide any details. Encumbering me, it was forcing me to do things in unusual ways.

Laura was at her desk, watching and talking. I suddenly had a brainstorm about how the cast I wore could be modified to make it easier to deal with the limitations it imposed. Laura began talking about it a split second after the idea came to me. We both started babbling about with growing excitement. Calling me to her desk, she said, “Take out the notebook from the inside pocket on the left side of my jacket.” I did, and handing her the small brown book. She opened it to a blank page and started writing.

With a dream shift, I was now in line. I needed a new vehicle. Five people were ahead of me. A female cashier was helping us. I saw a white Jaguar convertible with a red interior. It seated four. I decided, that’s what I’m buying.

The cashier told the first person in line, “We don’t have any small cars left.” Then she called out to the rest of us, “Is anyone in line interested in any car besides a small car.”

Raising my hand, I responded, “I am. I’m buying that white Jaguar.”

The purchase was done with dream speed. As part of my purchase, I was given a model of the car. They went off to get it ready for me to drive away. I went to a coffee shop and purchased a cup of coffee in a paper cup with a plastic lid.

A hard wind was blowing. I needed to set my coffee down but worried about the wind blowing it over, even though I was in an office. I opened a file drawer and set the coffee in there, thinking that the drawer will protect it from the wind. Then I set the little white Jaguar on top of it.

The wind immediately blew the little car off the coffee cup lid. I wasn’t surprised. I said, “That’s exactly how I expected that to go.”

Dream end.

We Got It All

First came a blind cane tapping, tentative, sporadic, all over. Rain.

Studying the morass of oncoming darkening clouds, I stepped out and waited. Rain drops pecked my cheek, patted my hair, skipped off my arm. I waited.

A wind rushed through the trees like an animal unleashed back to the wilderness and scurried past me. The storm cleared the high distant hills with a ragged announcement of thunder. I waited.

More urgent drops approached They were serious about maintaining a constant dispersal rate and issued warning I was going to get wet. I waited.

The full regiment of rain galloped toward me. Thunder burst loose of its binds. Lightning ripped across the clouds. More thunder chased it with heavy energy. And the rain and wind came with a howling spirit, striking my clothes and skin, posting goosebumps on my flesh.

And I stayed.

It was a classic Pittsburgh thunderstorm.

Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: buzzy

Rain and wuthering rule Monday, Feb. 19, 2024 in Ashlandia, where the roads are average and the people can be nice. 52 F now, circumstances have aligned to deliver 56 F. Rain falls in short showers, and sunshine sometimes clear through the layered cloud cake to brighten the scene. Mainly, though, it’s wind and rain.

You probably know the weather situation annoys the home floofs. How can you expect us to go out in this weather and be wild animals, they complain. Do something about it.

“Would if I could,” I tell them, “but the door game must cease. Here, have a treat.”

“Thanks,” they grumble, devouring treats. “More. Come on, don’t hold back, it’s rainy and windy. More treats! We deserve them.”

With his improved health, Tucker shows more interest in Papi, displeasing to Papi. Papi starts past; Tucker heads for him. Papi breaks into a short gambol. Tucker attempts to give chase. His mind is game but his elderly joints and muscles call, “Hey, take a chill pill.”

Today’s theme song comes from things happening to others. The phrase, “What would you do in my place?” comes up. Out of that comes The Neurons with Coldplay performer “In My Place” in the morning mental music stream. This 2002 melding of vocals and instruments is heavy with regretful wonder, just like the people I communicated with. Not a bad song, but it wore out its welcome with me for a while. Commuting along highway 101 and Interstate 280, and various expressways, the song found frequent radio time for a while after its release and became one that often prompted me to change the channel. It just happens sometimes.

Be strong, stay positive, keep leaning forward, and for the love of democracy, please vote. Coffee — second cup — pulled up. Time to sip and write. Here’s the music. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: blustery

The mid-week has crashed in once again. It’s like it’s on a schedule.

Yeah, Wednesday, December 13, 2023, is here in Ashlandia, where the gravity is average. Blustery winds dominate, sending my floofs back into the house complaining about it. They are not fans of wind. It’s 50 F now but we have the potential to achieve a high of 53 F before the weary sun sends us over to the night.

After reading some news, The Neurons are treating me to “Cry Me A River” as covered by Joe Cocker. He turned the soft song into a blues tinged hard rocker. This video showed a classic savagely energetic Cocker performance.

One of the things which pushed Cocker & “Cry Me A River” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark dumped) was Donald Trump’s text screaming about one of the cases against him (there are four). Which one? Um, let’s see: yes, charges over whether former President Donald Trump can be prosecuted on charges he plotted to overturn the 2020 election results. Trump claimed he has immunity because he was POTUS. A federal judge ruled the case could go forward. Trump said he would ask the federal appeals court in Washington to reverse that outcome.

What special prosecutor Jack Smith decided is to bypass the appeals court, the usual next step in the process, and have the Supreme Court take it up. From Newsweek: ‘Smith asked if “a former President is absolutely immune from federal prosecution for crimes committed while in office or is constitutionally protected from federal prosecution when he has been impeached but not convicted before the criminal proceedings begin.”‘ Sure, get it done, stop wasting time and money, and answer the question about Trump’s immunity claim in the federal election interference case.

But if you know Trump (and how can you not by now?), his number three favorite tactic in court is delaying. (Numbers one and two is lying and verbally attacking and insulting people.)

From Newsweek:

“Crooked Joe Biden’s henchman, Deranged Jack Smith is so obsessed with interfering in the 2024 Presidential Election with the goal of preventing President Trump from retaking the Oval Office, as the President is poised to do, that Smith is willing to try for a Hail Mary by racing to the Supreme Court and attempting to bypass the appellate process,” a spokesperson for Trump’s campaign said in a statement Monday afternoon.

“There is absolutely no reason to rush this Witch Hunt to trial, except to injure President Trump and his 150 million, at least, supporters.” 

Trump doesn’t have 150 million supporters. By his actions, he’s come to be at this point. So, yeah, so cry me a river.

Stay positive, be stable and strong, and lean forward toward a better world. I’ve had coffee and am trying to do all these things as well. Here’s some music to take your mind off things. Hope you enjoy it. Cheer

Food & Diamonds Dream

Didn’t see much of myself in this dream. I was there doing things under others’ guidance. The first part was about taste, eating, and ingredients.

I was given six ingredients and told to make something to eat out of those. I don’t know any of the ingredients at this point. But as I started working on it, a woman came by and said, “If you have any problems, call this number: 220-4076.” Okay, I said, got it. Will do.

I began working with the ingredients to make things. With quick experimentation, began intuiting that the food would guide me. In fact, if I let them, the foods would choose by themselves which ones should come together and that the best results came from just using three ingredients.

People, including my wife, arrived and tasted my food. Expressing astonishment, they asked, “Did you make this?” As I told them I did, they were in disbelief because it was so good, in their words, making me proud and happy. Same asked me for cooking insights and I happily shared what I’d learned, telling them that the food would come together by itself so just come together and let it. They then watched as I told a group of six foods to make something. The food pieces began moving, shifting into groups of three, and then shuffling their proportions by themselves. Everyone reacted in amazement, exclaiming, “You were serious, it does make itself.” I said, “I just need to cook it in whatever way needed. That’s where this phone number comes in.” As I looked at the phone number, something clicked and I said, “But I only need 220, the first part. The rest doesn’t matter.”

Finishing up there, I caught up with my wife. She was jewelry shopping in some swanky store where the sound was completely muffled by thick-pile blue carpet. When I arrived, she was engaged with a sales clerk but turning to me said, “M, I dropped an earring. Can you see if you can find it?” Questions and answers were exchanged about where she’d lost it etc. Getting on my knees with a flashlight, I searched the carpet and found the earring, a tiny but exquisite little silver piece. She was so pleased I’d found it, telling me that she’d been confident that I would, but then told me she’d lost another, so could I find it, too?

I did so with little trouble. She was still shopping so I walked to another part of the store and then out of it. Beyond the store, it was hot, dry, and brown with dust. The dust was blowing in my face, coating my lips and smarting my eyes. Grimacing against all that, I walked around behind the store. Turning back, I saw that I’d wandered a long way from it, and the store was just a smudge on the horizon, and so started making a direct and determined effort to walk back to the store fast.

As I walked though, I bent my head against the dust and wind, keeping my eyes toward the ground. Slowing and shielding my eyes against a particularly sustained, hard wind, I bent down and saw stones. Picking them up, I discovered that there were cut yellow diamonds. From what I knew, they couldn’t be worth much, because wasn’t yellow diamonds a lesser color? Still, they should have some value, I told myself, and picked the diamonds up. A huge cache covered by dust was found.

Wondering if the diamonds belonged to someone, I called 220. Without even explaining who I was or why I was calling, the person answering said, “The diamonds are yours if you want them. Take what you want. That’s why they’re there,” and then hung up.

Dream end.

Thursday’s Theme Music

The house floofs are displeased. That makes them a bit aggro. ‘Tis windy out there, they complain to me. Turn the wind off. I would if I could, kitties, although let me note that winds help the ecosystem. “So you’re not stopping the wind,” they confirmed, and stalked off to sing the blues.

It’s Thursday, April 6, 2023, 48 degrees F., dry with rain coming our way, not too long for now, judging from the uniform gray cloud mass blotting out sun and blue sky from horizon to horizon. 56 F will be our high. Sun shuffles out of the Ashlandia neighborhood at 7:42 Ashlandia Evening Time, while it rose at 6:45.

Could all be worse, yep. Caught by a headline, “478 tornado reports across 25 states: How a mild winter led to destruction”, I read about tornadoes and their destruction in several states. It’s interesting in talking with friends and fam in the northeastern USA that they had a mild winter, not much snow except for a few storms. We in the Pacific Northwest were coping with them it seems. Ah, that’s weather.

I was checking news on Yahoo to mix it up. I like picking random news sites to see what’s being reported around the world. I’m not impressed with Yahoo – haven’t been in a long time – which is why they’re not a regular. After reading Yahoo headlines and clicking to some stories, I read a Dallas newspaper (online) before their paywall blocked me, and FOX59 from Indianapolis.

With tornado stories and the wind whistling past the house here, I suppose it’s natural that The Neurons channeled wind-influenced songs to the morning mental music stream. Last up was “You’re Only Human (Second Wind)” by Billy Joel from 1985. It narrowly beat out “Dust in the Wind”, “They Call the Wind Maria”, and “Candle in the Wind”. Have any preferred winds song on your end, other than Spinal Tap’s “Break Like the Wind”?

Stay pos and be cool. Hope Thursday lives up to your hopes and dreams. The cats have settled. Coffee and lemon cake have arrived. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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