The Adventures of Bloggard

Been Around the Block. Got Some Stories. These are Them.

Mister Blue

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Mount Shasta, CA, January 15, 2026: This is my pal. His name is “Mister Blue” or “Blue-Blue.”

Mister Blue has been with me all of my life, and still resides at my bedside, because we’re pals, been together ever since Artelle Loony, Mama’s friend, made Mister Blue for me when I was quite small.

Every morning, when I get up, I spend a moment feeling gratitude and expressing thanks to the Universe, for all the things I’ve been given: Roof, warmth, clothes, food, body, health, love, friends, long life.

And then, every morning, I give Mister Blue a pat and sincerely thank him for sticking with me all this time.

We’re both over 80 years old!

I think of that, and, while I’m thanking him, I remember all the kindness I’ve been given by the humans in my life, and of the life-force and body given me by my ancestors. Thank you Universe. Thank you, Mister Blue.

Gratitude or Grumpy. Whichever you choose, you create more.

I’ve decided gratitude is way better.

And Mister Blue agrees completely.

Closing a Door

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October 19, 2018, Medford Oregon –– Tomorrow a big truck with moving guys comes, and nearly all my home is packed into boxes. The last few weeks have been overshadowed. As the leaves were turning gold and falling from the huge tree out front, I worried that packing up seemed overwhelming, but bit by bit …

The view from my kitchen window

Behind the house of the neighbor across the street, her name is Linda, her trees have turned bright and colorful. It’s Autumn.

The neighbors next door had yet another fiesta last Friday. Although it’s sometimes noisy near my bedroom window, I like the sounds, men talking in Spanish, kids yelling and running around.

A Change in the Air

After tomorrow, I don’t live here any more.

I’ve felt this before. Maybe you have, too …

It’s time to go, and the rooms become empty again, until finally the place looks vacant like the day you moved in. And you walk around these empty rooms, and whether or not you liked the time spent there, nostalgia comes over you.

In my bedroom, in my mind I again see gooddog Charlie. This is where he died, not that long ago. I feel like I am abandoning him, because I am leaving the room. I miss him and feel like somehow I am also leaving him behind, because it’s the place where I hold his memory.

But he will not miss me here.

No Reason to Be Here

A few years ago, I moved here with Susan, before she lost her sight and went away to learn how to be a blind person. I thought it likely that the relationship was completely gone. I felt no different toward her, but had to accept letting it go.

A few months ago I was surprised to hear from her reaching out by phone again. And a few trips to visit over the last few months where she’d landed again in Mount Shasta. Surprised and happy to discover the relationship was not gone after all. And so I am moving back to Mount Shasta.

Unlike some other moves in the past, this time I do not have the feeling of  moving forward. I feel like I am moving backward, retreating. But it’s what I want to do. I cannot remain, no reason. Though I’ve made a few good friends here, there is nothing to keep me in Medford.

I just didn’t have any other place that called to me.

Until now.

 

A Report on Chinese Christmas Eve

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Marin County, July 16, 2017 — For her birthday, Adrienne came down from her Oregon home to visit with her daughters and grandchildren. Her whole family was there: Layla, Celina, Jessica, Dameon, and even Rhiannon and her puppy “Penny,” who flew in from Germany. All of them remembered …

 

Marin County, December 24, 2007 –– In our house on Scenic Avenue in San Anselmo, I made up a Christmas Eve Tradition. Because the previous month at Thanksgiving, due to Layla’s insistence, we had enjoyed a wonderful dinner of Tofurky. Ha! Enjoyed? Who am I kidding?

The Tofurky Experience

We agreed unilaterally that we would NEVER have Tofurky again. Maybe it’s ok for some things, but as a substitute for a proper Thanksgiving dinner … thank you, but no. So here we are coming up on Christmass Eve, and dinner was a problem. Because Adrienne doesn’t cook; it’s against her religion. And franky I don’t know how to do a turkey, and it’s a lot of work, and so invention being the mother of necessity … I made up [Read more…]

Charlie’s Big Adventure

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Medford, Oregon, April 25, 2016: I guess he’s been getting restless. I’ve been lousy about taking them for walks, and running around the back yard has probably grown passe.

Of course, Daisy is getting old. She’s creaky, slow, and her back legs erratic. But Charlie, though almost as old, still has a lot of Get Up And Go. And the fact that Daisy is now mostly Got Up and Went gives him no pause. He’s a busy guy.

Today started out normal, like any day, and since I wanted to get soup for lunch at Great Harvest, I herded the dogs into the garage/backyard, and sure enough, the soup was swell.

When I arrived back home and parked in the driveway, behind me cars began stopping in the street, a line of them in each direction. And that was because Daisy was wandering around on Siskiyou Boulevard. [Read more…]

The Scent of a Memory

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Medford, Oregon, November 14, 2015 — Some folks complain about airline food, but personally I think it’s wonderful. Not that it’s truly exceptional, because frankly I can cook lots better. But the fact that you can be served food, while sky-rocketing through the atmosphere at 16,000 feet and beyond … well, that’s amazing.

Kind of like a talking dog. He doesn’t need to say profound stuff; just the fact that he can talk at all is the wonderful thing. Because sometimes, good enough is good enough, right?

And the reason I’m thinking about airline food is that, I’m thinking about the carved box, and the reason I’m thinking about the carved box is because I cleaned my hairbrush this morning.

It happened like this — [Read more…]

A White Sport Coat, and Rocket Fuel

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Henrietta, Texas, Easter Sunday, 1958: I have Easter finery, and it is a white sport coat. At age twelve, this seems especially neato to me, because that Marty Robbins song about the White Sport Coat and a Pink Carnation is still playing on the radio.

Usually, on school days, like my friends, I wear Levis or Lee Riders with a sport shirt. Because it is so cool to do so, I wear black loafers with white socks. Bobby Mitchell. has explained this to me, and he is a great fashion plate.

Bobby, Eddy Frank, Billy Ray, and several others are studying rocketry, and building rockets from aluminum tubes, hacksaws, wood, and gunpowder. Most of these rockets do not work, but we’re not giving up!

Today, however, I’m wearing Easter finery and sitting in my room, bored, because I’m dressed and ready for church, and the rest of my family is still getting dressed.

So that’s why I was fiddling with the rocket fuel.

[Read more…]

Margaret’s Lime

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Henrietta, Texas circa 1970: Darrel Blain went to school with my brother, David Strickland, and sometimes rode his bike out to the farm near Hurnville to visit. Like any kid growing up in Henrietta, his mother bought his clothes at John’s Drygoods, and the Library Rummage Sale was a big deal.

But he was enterprising, and he got a job at the ‘Lo Boy, cooking burgers and making cokes.

Then one day, there was this lime.

The limes were kept inside the grey metal ice-maker, in a bucket. At that time, lime cokes were a hot item at the ‘Lo Boy. The formula is simple: make a fountain coke, cut a slice of lime, and squeeze it into the coke.

But not this lime. It was too beautiful.

Large. Deep green. Unblemished and perfect. It was just too pretty to slice up and put in a coke, so Darrel stuck it into his pocket instead.

Later that day, it happened that he biked out to the Hurnville farm. to visit with my brother David. While he and David were lounging around, my mother, Margaret was her name, saw the lime.

She said gee, that would really be good with tequila. She asked if she could have it.

Startled, he was. Actually somewhat shocked, for he had never seen anyone actually drink tequila, much less have it with a lime. He handed it over.

She smiled.

Adrienne Searches on Google

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Weed, California, Spring 2009: Adrienne is still somewhat new to computers, and she comes up with things that often elude me.

(Even around the house; she fixed the ‘broken’ garbage disposal; I’d never have thought to use the plumber’s friend plunger!)

She has good results with the search engine, and uses it all the time.

One day I watched, and she types in entire sentences, like “Where can I find a list of all the major dog sanctuaries in the United States?”

I asked her why she didn’t just enter “dog sanctuaries”. [Read more…]

 
 

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