writing – Page 179 – Michael Seidel, writer

A stratus layer mothers the sun, protecting it from our prying eyes. Theoretically, we had sunrise at 7:11 this morning, but few bright rays have slipped past the cloud shield. The temperature is hovering at 46 degrees F as a fine mist drifts and falls, but today’s high is forecast to be 77 F before sunset at 7:25 PM.

Today is Tuesday, March 22, 2022, or 03222022 in the American style.

I was up with cats last night. Another — a different — sick one, as Tucker puked and went lethargic. My wife is sleeping in another bed adjusted for her back issues. Tucker, who sleeps with me 99 percent of the nights, slept with her. I missed my furry boy and his taps on my hands and nose, and deep, throbbing purr. I asked her this morning, how he was. “Oh, he’s fine,” she said. Oh, he ate? “I don’t know.” Did he drink water? “I don’t know.” Did he use the litter box? “I don’t know.” How do you know he’s okay? “He seems okay.” That is not how it works.

Meanwhile, sick cat took Tucker’s absence as an opportunity to cuddle against me. I pet, scratched, and spoke for him for long hours in the night. His ability to eat is diminishing and he’s fading, despite hopes. Of course, I used the time to write in my head. It wasn’t the plan; the writer is always there, and the muses said, “Hey, while you’re not busy doing anything.” They’re very single-minded. My mind shouted, “Eureka,” as some new and surprising vector took shape. Of course, it must be pursued today.

A 1986 Moody Blues song, “Your Wildest Dreams”, settled into the morning mental music stream. The neurons latched onto after a few dreams. Now it’s on loop and must be released into the net so the neurons can go on to other music.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the shots when you can. The neurons are calling for coffee, threatening me with a medley of 1910 Fruitgum Company melodies if I don’t comply. So off I go. Cheers

It’s midweek. Wednesday. And half of March of 2022 has passed on. It’s now the 16th. The news is pretty much the same. War is going on. Russia is being expelled from organizations. Threats are being aired. Trump issued a statement full of lies that have been repeatedly debunked. But he can’t change his nature as a liar. And people still believe him. Look up to him, etc. Meanwhile, another strong quake hit Japan and tsunami warnings were issued. Just what’s needed to feed our anxiety fatigue.

The Earth kept spinning. The sun ‘came up’ and will ‘set’ again, 7:21 AM and 7:18 PM, respectively. Almost to twelve hours of daylight here, and I feel it, brothers and sisters. The temperature is now 37 F but we expect 67 F today. While yesterday gave us slashes of rain followed by shocks of sunlight, today’s clouds hoover like faded giants on our northwest horizon. It’s sunny, people.

A wide range of songs are being played by the neuron jockeys in today’s morning mental music stream. I’m going with the Yes cover of Paul Simon’s “America” from 1972. Friends did not get this one; everyone I knew at that point asked with different degrees of doubt, suspicion, and surprise, “Do you like this?” It wasn’t until I met Scott a year later, in another state, another school, that I discovered another person who knew it and liked it. This particular version is an intriguing recording of them recording the song in the studio. Wonderful seeing that talent at work in such young people.

Hope you like it, and the sun is shining for you, and you’re safe, healthy, and happy somewhere. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, when needed, and get the vax and boosters. I’m off to coffee so I have a fresh cup while listening to the song. Then back to writing’s sanctuary, where the madness is cranking up. Cheers