My wife and I were our current age and traveling in her 2003 Gray Focus. I was driving.
We stopped somewhere to eat. It looked like a good choice but after we began looking around more, it turned out to be a mess. Tables were set up as if they were in a fine dining room but it was outdoors, on uneven fields of uncut grass. Many other people were just like us, trying to figure out WTH was going on.
My wife was very hungry and said, “Screw this, I’m just getting some food.” Then she stalked through the grass, where the food was in silver serving bowls among the clumps of grass. Finding some food, she took it to a table.
I was trying to tell her, “Wait, I don’t think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”
A harried young male waiter hustled to her, asking for her order. She replied, “I’m eating this.”
The waiter turned to me and asked, “What are you ordering?”
I was bewildered. “I don’t know what’s available. Where’s the menu?”
But as I looked around, I saw another family doing as my wife did. Noticing scrambled eggs in a bowl on the ground and a red plate, I picked them up and said, “I’m having this.”
The waiter looked both dejected and smug. Writing something on a pad, he left.
Eating some of our food but not happen with it, my wife and I returned to her car. It was cold outside by then, so I started the car to warm us up. I noticed ice inside the car and told her, “Look how cold it got.” Then I opened windows to let the ice out and continued running the engine to warm the car and clear the windows.
The dream ended on a view of us in her little gray car, waiting for the windows to clear.
Dreamed I was at a fancy business dinner. Large, round white tables set across a ballroom, bar in the corner. I’d just arrived and set up was underway. Two of my previous bosses were there. The fete was due to begin in an hour or so.
Participants, including me, had been asked to create some entertainment. I’d created a word jumble. Then my former boss said, “And please provide an answer sheet.”
Uh oh. I hadn’t created that. I went to get the notebook where I’d made it, knowing that I used one of those black and white lab notebooks that I always favored. I’d thrown it away because the notebook was full. I went to a gray, wheeled, large garbage cans sitting there and began going through the trash. People asked me to explain. I reluctantly did, with a grin, and was met with sympathy.
One unfamiliar elderly woman came by and said, “I know what you’re going through. I’ve done that.”
Shrugging, I replied, “If I can’t find it, I’ll just have to solve the jumble.”
Dad was there, putting silverware on tables. He said, “Maybe you used one of these notebooks, Michael.”
I knew I hadn’t because the ones he showed me weren’t the right kind. But I said, “Good idea, I’ll check.” And made a show of checking a few.
That dream segment ended. Another began.
I went to a counter crowded with product and was a little confused. My wife was there, along with several others, including a man behind a counter. I learned they were talking about my hair! Some products had been ordered and had arrived.
I had my own things to do/try for my hair, here and back home, so I was a little puzzled and annoyed. My wife said, “Everyone wants you to look pretty for the wedding.” I think I dimly knew a sister was getting married but didn’t know who.
The man wanted me to try the products. I wanted him to back off but didn’t say anything. I suggested, “Let me brush my hair so we can see what it looks like first.”
I didn’t have a brush, mirror, or comb, so I used my hands, and then asked my wife, “How does this look?”
She hemmed and hawed, not able to decide, which vexed me.
Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 1, 2026. It’s raining and foggy in Ashland, with temperatures tottering around 50 degrees F. Not a shred of sunshine out there, and a high of 57 is expected. Spring is muscling in.
It’s a day of questioning for me, starting with what’s going on with Mom to what’s going on in the world and the nation.
I learned yesterday that another sister — our youngest — had been going to visit Mom, taking her things, etc. The youngest has been designated as our contact with Mom because she has the best relationship of everyone living nearby. I reached out to her to see how Mom was doing.
The youngest related that when she arrived, Mom was playing bingo with five or six others at a table and apparently laughing and having fun. Mom told the youngest that she’d gone to church, which she enjoyed, and seemed pretty content and happy.
After wheeling Mom back to Mom’s room, the youngest found clothes all over Mom’s area. Mom complained she didn’t have hangers. Sis pointed out that they’re in the closet, and told her, you need to look, and helped Mom tidy.
Then, though, today, Mom asked the youngest to bring her cookies — “Anything but chocolate chip.” Oatmeal raisin cookies were brought, which made Mom mad. She then gave my sister ‘mean faces’ and quit speaking with her. The youngest rolled Mom to the dining room so she could eat, and then left.
The youngest sister also related that Mom’s roomie is 95 years old with congestive heart failure and two ‘bad shoulders’. She had a hospice aid visiting. My sister suggested that maybe we should get Mom a hospice aid. That took me back, because there’s nothing indicated to me at this point that Mom is ready for hospice.
It’s just as troubling and confusing elsewhere in the world. Trump ordered the U.S. to attack Iran, a joint operation with Israel, “Operation Epic Fury”. While Iran’s supreme leader was killed, Iran retaliated. Americans were killed and injured. More critically, is this the opening that will explode the area into another war? Trump and his advisors seem to think in terms of gunship diplomacy and regime change.
Trump — the peace president, a self-made assertion that has Orwell laughing in his grave — said that the attack was to protect Americans. “Our objective is to defend the American people by eliminating imminent threats from the Iranian regime,” Trump said in prerecorded remarks posted on White House social media accounts early Saturday morning.”
Back in 2011, Trump said President Obama would start a war with Iran. “Our president will start a war with Iran because he has absolutely no ability to negotiate. He’s weak and he’s ineffective.”
Who is weak and ineffective now, Trump?
Protests in Baghdad broke out, with “Death to Israel, death to America,” being shouted. This smacks of the 1970s and 1980s, so it sickens me that we seem to be going into another war spiral. I hope to hell that’s not true.
As I sat with that information, news arrived of a mass shooting in Austin, Texas. Next came updated information about deaths in Iran where 85 are reported killed: “The majority of the dead are schoolgirls aged between seven and 12 years old, according to the regime-controlled news outlets Tasnim and Fars.”
Senseless killing, once again. I expect anger and hatred in Iran to rise in response. This is exactly where we were before, using violence and killing to win hearts and minds. It did not work then; I don’t expect it to work now.
BTW, remember when Trump vowed no more wars when he campaigned? Guess that promise meant as much as Mexico paying for the wall and lower food and energy prices.
The song in my morning mental music stream came when I first looked out the windows, before reading any news. “Rainy Night in Georgia” came out in 1970. The Neurons put it in there when I thought, “Another rainy day in Ashland.” I didn’t remember who performed the song and looked it up to learn it was Brook Benton.
I call again for peace and grace to find its way to us, and maybe it will someday. Right now, it feels less likely than it did last week. But things will change. It’s really just question of how and why.
Ashland, Oregon – Friday, February 27, 2026. Fifty degrees F outside, the sun is burning away some final blue and gray tendrils, delivering a summer blue sky. Today’s highs are expected to be kicking the upper sixties. I appreciate that weather for today, and the chance it gives us to be outside, in sunshine and fresh air. Plants are blooming and blossoming out there. The march toward spring seems to have begun.
The Mom front continues to be quiet. It’s a question of is this ‘no news is good news’, or the calm before the storm?
Not binary, it could be both. We want Mom to be as safe and comfortable as possible as her days wind down, but she’s fought us. She wants her independence and the home where she lived for the last thirty years plus. We all have tried hard. There’s not blame to spread so much as understanding of the multiple variables and facets.
So many news stories to read today. The news overall continues to trigger worries and growls. One story ends with me shaking my head.
Melania Trump chairing a UN Security Council meeting. I don’t know how symbolic this is, or cynic that I am, just more White House distractions from other events.
The meeting is about “Children, Technology, and Education in Conflict.” But how many children have been detained by Homeland Security via ICE and the Border Patrol? Before we go off to tell others what need to be done, why hasn’t — or why isn’t — Melania Trump doing more for children being detained and held in detention centers in the United States? If she was really concerned about children, wouldn’t she be front and center for taking care of them, rather than making a documentary about moving into the White House?
It’s another one of those places for me where the administration expresses concerns but then takes actions which seem completely contrary to their stated concerns. It’s like how Trump tells us he’s for freedom but then attacks others for criticizing him or making fun of him and demands they’re fired. Or how he thinks he knows more than history and economic experts about tariffs being the best way forward. There’s a body of incoherency about Trump and his processes that make me doubt and question every damn thing he does or says.
The Neurons supplied the morning mental music stream with “Over the Hills and Far Away” by Led Zeppelin. They got suckered in my thinking about what I know. The song contains the lyrics, “Many times I’ve lied, and many times I’ve listened. Many times I’ve wondered, how much there is to know.”
I hope you weather, your day, and your life all go well for you and your family. I’m going to start with a cup of coffee and build from there, reading more news, going on.
One of my recurring interests is NFL football. I appreciate the athleticism and intelligence required, along with the strategy and tactics. Many games are played out in every down.
I found an article on ESPN today about advice rookies provide to the next generation of players joining the NFL ranks. As I read the advice and suggestions, many struck as something that writers — and people in other endeavors — can use to help themselves as they try to advance.
These resonated with me the most.
Never lose your confidence
‘Comparison is the thief of joy’
Take everything one day at a time
Stay patient
‘Listen to the vets’
‘Take care of your body’
I hope you can take the time to read the article. Maybe you’ll find some which help you keep moving forward.
