I was struck by this arrangement in someone’s front yard yesterday morning:
That little orange pumpkin looks like it’s in trouble.
©2026 Bas Bleu
I was struck by this arrangement in someone’s front yard yesterday morning:
That little orange pumpkin looks like it’s in trouble.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Ah, we are finally in Autumn. Humidity has crashed and mornings are crisp but not frosty. And, finally, leaves in my part of the People’s Republic have begun to turn.
It’s interesting to me that they seem to be changing color
only in patches on trees, not swathes. I don’t recall this pattern in years
past, but I find the reds and golds blooming amongst the vibrant green of a
tree beautiful.
And that’s today’s gratitude.
©2026 Bas Bleu
You know—given the Kleptocrat’s ramping up his lies in the runup to the midterm elections, I’ve been hearing one of the classics in my head for the past few days.
I mean—in between him dozing at meetings in the Oval Office
and being unable to complete a thought (or remember the name(s) of the
candidate(s) he’s in town to “support”) due to advancing dementia, he just
spews porkies about the economy, about how he should have received the Nobel
Peace Prize at least eight times, about winning/having won the war in Iran, about the bloody 2020 election, about
acing a cognitive test he seems to be required to take every time he sees a
doctor, about the qualifications of his new blonde press secretary. His lie-to-breath
ratio is rapidly approaching 1:1.
(He did extrude one truthy statement when he told his
audience in Alaska that he could say all kinds of stupid things and they’d clap
like trained seals [I paraphrase], whereupon they all clapped like trained
seals [actual fact].)
So of course the earworm for today is “You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog”, sung here buy a guy named Elvis Presley. So, so many truths in these lyrics.
©2026 Bas Bleu
This car has a lot to say:
I think it was in the Whole Foods parking lot, which kind of tracks. My attention was grabbed by the Jesus sticker, on account of it being directed at all the evangelical Christian white nationalists who apparently stopped reading the Bible at Malachi (and then somehow unaccountably picked up again at Revelation).
But—given the attention to running, I thought it especially
appropriate that the vehicle is a Honda FIT.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Okay, I’m not saying that there’s a movement afoot, but I found a second sign for a jumped-up townhouse development in The People’s Republic defaced. And in pretty much the same way that the first one was:

I don’t think the developers much care, so I’d be surprised
if they replace the signs. I mean—by the time they notice, they’ll have sold
all the units and be moving on to their next cookie-cutter “luxury” project.
Still—I kinda admire the commitment of the graffiti artists.
©2026 Bas Bleu
A small gratitude today.
A small gratitude named Champagne.
I’ve been having some issues with inflammation across what
I refer to as the hip delivery system; diagnosed as arthritis and bursitis, it’s
literally a pain in the ass. It turns out that any movement you want to make
with any part of your body passes somehow through the hips/butt, and you don’t
notice it until it’s painful. Also—your body starts to conform to misalignment
in order to reduce pain, and trying to reconfigure the muscles to where you
should be is also painful.
So I’ve struggled with my morning walks. Saturday was the
first time in a few days that I did the circuit, and I was worried that—even after
a couple of weeks of PT—I’d have repercussions. I was just about 75%
through it when I spotted this guy dancing through the parking lot of a
micropark:
Yes, that’s Champagne. Seems like some dogs wear Halloween
costumes; Champagne lives the costume.
But he also has the personality behind the coloration—bright,
happy, friendly. There were many scritches and a few kisses, which made the
entire walk worthwhile. No walk, no Champagne.
And that’s today’s gratitude.
©2026 Bas Bleu
So, one standout from this week down the rabbit hole is the Kleptocrat announcing that—along with higher prices on everything—having Iran take out San Diego and Los Angeles would be “a small price to pay”.
I don’t hold with trying to sort out meaning from the
elided and jumpy word salads that shambling orange carcass spews out, but I
think the object for which the destruction of two large coastal cities that
reliably vote Democrat is Iran not having a nuclear weapon, since that’s the pole
star he always returns to when he’s floundering for a response to a question on
this war. So I’m really confused about how, exactly, Iran would “take out” LA
and San Diego, because he’s also told us that the US “obliterated” the Islamic
Republic's nuclear capability more than a year ago. And—even if they’re somehow miraculously
“two weeks away” from developing another one, I’m not seeing how they’d deliver
it across the Pacific Ocean.
But the goobers in Nebraska, where Cadet Bonespurs first
invited a country he considers a blood enemy to attack US territory, positively
ate it up. So, he’ll repeat it (as he did Wednesday in San Antonio).
And today’s earworm is “California Dreamin’”, of course by The Mamas and the Papas.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Yesterday I made an emergency run to Trader Joe’s after my PT session and getting my Covid shot. I don’t like to go after around 1030 because just the parking lot becomes a war zone the closer you get to noon, but I had absolutely nothing on hand to use to make a salad, so I bit the bullet.
The bag I pulled out of the pile in the car to hold my
groceries happened to be one I got from a community-building group I belong to.
Here are the two sides:
©2026 Bas Bleu