Raw
Be my guest
No one said
But I made myself
At home
Sitting where I please
Drinking what I wanted
Gazing where I chose
Till one said
Who you looking at
And another asked
Why are you here
What are you doing
So I shrugged
Smiled
Drank
And told them
Being
Me
*This post is part of Linda Hill’s SoCS fun at The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 13, 2026 |
Friday’s Theme Music
Ashland, southern Oregon — Friday, June 12, 2026.
Sunshine. Blue sky. Cool now — 68 degrees — but climbing into the upper 80s again today.
Reports from the Eastern Front were about Mom suffering. A storm knocked out power. Afterward, the temperature climbed into the upper 80s and the humidity was high. Mom was in pain with headaches and other problems. Nothing we could do…
When Mom and I text, she often repeats the same questions and statements, frequently almost word for word.
My sister, Gina, sent texts relating all that remains to be done on Mom’s house, and the progress of things. She’s doing the work of five of us. But she’s supposed to be going on vacation two weeks from now, plans established last year. The house closing is scheduled for July 23, which suddenly seems very close.
Despite Trump’s talk of peace deals and the war being over, Trump’s war with Iran grinds on. Trump said something like we could get a deal as early as this weekend, but he’ll say anything.
A report came out in the “The Independent” that Trump’s support among Independent voters is sinking. The losses are among young Independent voters, along with Hispanic voters. Trump’s support with older, white Indpendent voters is unchanging.
A lot of the news is about Elon Musk becoming richer, thanks to the SpaceX IPO. Paul Krugman did a fine job of relating how little Musk actually accomplishes to become as wealthy as he is. Like Trump, Musk made a lot of promises. Much of what he promised was supposed to be done by 2025, but it isn’t. Krugman reminds us of what a disaster X has been since Musk bought Twitter, and how Wall Street bankers are still sucking on those losses.
In other Trump news, Trump used Ariana Grande’s song, “Bye”, without authorization. Grande immediately responded, “Please do not ever use my music in relation to this barbaric, inhumane, heinous nonsense. F*** ICE.
Reading of that, My Neurons responded by instantly playing “Bye” in the morning mental music stream. I thought I’d share it with you. *smile*
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
I hope your day proceeds safely, securely, happily.
Cheers
The Writing Moment
The Writing Equation:
Five minutes of imagining scenes of your novel in progress while in bed = roughly thirty thousand words and ten days of writing.
That’s how it feels to me.
Your experience may vary.
Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts
Slow day at the coffee shop. Bailey and Nat were behind the counter. No customers were behind me. I asked Bailey if she wrote cursive.
Yes. She told about learning it, she thought when she was eight, in Washington. “Then we moved to Tennessee. I was just learning how to write cursive then.”
“Can your children read cursive?” I asked.
“My daughter can. She’s thirteen and she just learned to read and write cursive. My son can’t, yet. He’s younger and I think they’re going to teach it this year.”
I then explained why I was asking. We’d been at the DMV in Medford where the agent joked about the need to read cursive. Her children couldn’t read or write it.
Bailey asked Nat if she could write cursive. “Yes,” Nat agreed. “But we were the last class to be taught, we were told.”
I said, “I’m happy to hear they’re still teaching it.”
Bailey volunteered, “Yes, but I think it varies with the district. I’m 38.”
Nat said, “I’m 24.”
“You learned in California, right, Nat?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, and my teacher was like, you will learn cursive. I’m not changing my writing. You will learn it.”
Her imitation had us laughing.
So, cool. Here in Ashland, at least, cursive remains alive.
