Today marks the 1854 birthday of John Phillip Sousa, so I'll lead off with the goofed accidentals during community band performances. With passing notes not being "meh", a quarter note on up is the gateway to eternity once the error is discerned. The stove has not been left on in my absence in a while but there have been close calls. No third party has actually found my wallet anywhere nor had cause to, but freak outs over its whereabouts, especially now the hip pocket carry is so uncomfortable, were especially prevalent going back to before my current roll-call of jinglers and "the vault" after coming home.

With my late parents' varying degrees of dementia leading an ever assembling swarm of observations of such I wonder what indeed it would "feel like". Perhaps a preview of, "What happens when we die?" Happy Friday, indeed.

Last weekend I arose to my fresh-brewed coffee. A bonanza, in fact, but I was not deluded it wasn't diluted: The carafe was full, something not in sync with the quantity of water I had put in the night before, with the last drips in a discreet ring around the coffee maker. No dementia here, I remembered exactly what had happened; if it had been the previous coffee the temperature would have been compromised. This time it was water, less flavor and temp together. Not something for a good morning.

The mystique of venturing off while a timer will initiate an action is strong here, though again this does not apply to the forgotten stove. Sometimes I run water sans java through the maker, as is recommended so the other day the maker indeed ran this about a half hour after I set off shopping.

The specter of forgetfulness is back, though. I had remembered to reset the delay from mid afternoon to shortly before seven, had definitely changed the old filter for the new grind, but the run-through water had been deprived of its odyssey to Seal Beach despite a few opportunities.

So, time to grind a little more coffee and run some of the morning's product, such as it was, back through. No, that is not supposed to be done and yes, I have done it before.

Why do you think I periodically do the purge?

There's an old joke about the cow and the pail of milk. Of course, with energy consumption and all that there physics stuff as they say on the farm, it is not a closed loop.

As long as I have enough of a mind to keep the reader in the loop.