Sunday, October 12, 2025

Another Busy Day

Here it is, 8:00 p.m., and I’m still trying to get all of my food in before my 11:00 bedtime. Eating healthy whole foods means eating a lot more than I used to, and it takes some getting used to.

Today I volunteered at our grandson Caleb’s swim team meet, working the concession stand. In hindsight, it may not have been the best idea to put a woman trying to eat clean in front of tables overflowing with donuts, chips, candy, soda pop, and pizza. Surprisingly, I didn’t actually want any of it—but I did find myself getting a little judgy about what all those swimmers were eating. I kept it to myself... I think. I’ll find out in November when I’m back on concession duty. Hopefully there won’t be a note waiting that says, “Keep your judgy self away from us.” The bagels, I decided, were probably the least unhealthy of the bunch.

Between food prep, logging meals, nutrition education, a bit more activity, meditation, and breathing exercises, I’m realizing that prioritizing my health is practically a full-time job. Good thing I’m retired—now I finally have the time for it.

We also have houseguests for a while—Jeremy’s mom, Shelly, and her partner, Artie, along with their small dog, Pebbles. Pebbles is as cute as a button, which is probably why I keep wanting to call her Button. Pebbles and Alto are… coexisting. Pebbles is blind in one eye and has long bangs, so sometimes she suddenly “discovers” Alto and starts barking. Meanwhile, Alto has been sitting nearby for half an hour, looking both offended and bewildered. If she weren’t so put out, it would be funny. So far, there’s been no physical contact—just a lot of hissing and barking. I’m half-expecting one of them to organize a little protest, complete with inflatable frog costumes and signs demanding better treatment in the Coehlo household. (That’s a nod to the Portland protesters for those following along at home.)

It’s getting late, and I still have my evening chores to finish up. I hope you all had a peaceful Sunday—and that your week ahead starts gently and stays kind.




Saturday, October 11, 2025

A Busy Day at the Coehlo Household

Today was a busy one around here. I’m still learning how to balance my meals to get in all the protein and healthy fats I need each day, and somehow that process makes the day feel full before it even begins. On top of that, I spent a good chunk of time working on our 2026 household budget — not the most thrilling task, but satisfying when the numbers line up.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, I made a pot of zucchini soup. The house smelled wonderful just in time for company — our friends Artie and Shelly, who are visiting with us. Shelly is Jeremy’s mom (our daughter Megan’s mother-in-law), and her daughter, NaTasha, came by today as well. We enjoyed a relaxed late dinner filled with conversation before everyone drifted off to bed.

Everyone, that is, except me. I got caught up in visiting and meal prep and nearly forgot to write tonight. So here I am, sneaking in a few quiet lines before turning out the lights.

Just a quick note to say hi — and goodnight. 🌙

Friday, October 10, 2025

A Few Memes for Fun

 Just a few memes for today:

Since 47's return to office my language skills have deteriorated. WTF are often my first words in the morning. We are only an hour earlier then the East Coast. It must be even harder (possibly 3 WTF's) by the time the Pacific Coast wakes up to hear the news.

Day five on my healthy program - still no desire to eat wicker furniture! This means I am successful so far ...

This made me laugh out loud. I am not sure my friends would even raise awareness. Like Ransom of Red Chief  my friends might wait until the kidnappers offer to pay to return me ...


And one not funny at all. This. This is exactly why I can't stop writing about what is happening in the United States right now under the current regime.










Thursday, October 9, 2025

Random Thursday Thoughts

Created using ChatGPT
Good news — my brain stopped melting after a bit of reading and a good night’s rest.

Today was a super busy one for me. Part of it is that I’m trying to be mindful about working through the nutrition program and materials that Coach Becky has assigned. The other part is that open enrollment season for Medicare has begun.

I’m excited because I found an insurance plan that’s as good as — and in some cases even better than — what our current plan will become in 2026. And, at a better price! I can even add a hospitalization plan that covers the daily charges for days 1 through 5 if I’m ever admitted, plus a supplemental vision plan that pays all but $75 of my progressive lenses and $200 toward my frames. And still, the total cost is less than half of what our current plan will be in 2026.

I spent three hours today on the phone with brokers and reviewing documents. It’s on days like this that I’m especially grateful for my years of Human Resources experience — it really helps to know what questions to ask.

Today also marks Day Four of my New and Improved Me program. Right now, I’m focusing on meeting my daily macronutrient targets. It’s taking some effort to hit the right balance, but I’m getting there. For example, I had a glass of 1% milk today — the first one in four months — to add protein without much fat. The only downside? I left Joe just enough milk for his coffee tomorrow morning. Oh well, Friday is grocery day!

I’ve also made a noticeable dent in Joe’s apple supply… and the peanut butter… and the oatmeal. The funny thing is, I’m realizing I already had everything I needed for a healthier eating style right here at home. And to think I kept saying there was “nothing to eat in the house.” Talk about stinking thinking.

I’ve only glanced at the news today, but one headline did catch my eye — RFK Jr.’s claim that circumcision might cause autism. My first thought was, “He does know girls aren’t circumcised in most cultures, right?” By that logic, girls on the spectrum must all be misdiagnosed.

Okay, enough for today. I still have a few things to finish up before bedtime, and tomorrow will be another full one.

As I wrap up this Random Thursday, I’m struck by how much life’s little moments — a good insurance find, a healthy meal, or even a silly news headline — can fill a day. Progress comes in small steps, and today, I’m grateful for each one.


Wednesday, October 8, 2025

Brain Melt

My brain has melted. Translation: I am officially done with serious thinking for the day.

It’s been a wonderful one, though. I had a virtual chat this morning with my friends Jen and Elizabeth—always a delight and fun to catch up with them. Later, Joe drove me up to Rockford to visit Megan and Oliver. Oliver and I played for most of the six hours I was there, which might explain why my brain feels like pudding. When Charlotte came home from school, Oliver was napping, so I spent some quiet time with her while she did her homework.

Megan brought me home a little after five, and I started planning and preparing my dinner. Now I’m completely worn out. Once I clean up my dishes, I’m heading upstairs with a thermos of water, ready to wind down. Something tells me I’ll fall asleep within minutes of opening my book.

It’s been a full day, and now it’s time to trade chatter for quiet pages and soft dreams.





Tuesday, October 7, 2025

A Fresh Start

After only one "official" day on my new health program—and a second night in a row of good sleep—I woke up feeling energized. Going to bed at 11:00 p.m. and setting my alarm for 8:15 a.m. means I’m getting close to eight solid hours of rest (after subtracting the time I get up for those inevitable bathroom trips).

Last night I woke more often than usual as my body acclimates to an increased water intake. I’ve tried to drink at least eight glasses of water a day for over twenty years, but when Coach Becky recommended 88 ounces, I took her literally. Today I found out I can count my morning 12 ounces of coffee toward my water total—good news! I can’t, however, drink 88 ounces of coffee and call it a day. (Wired much?)

This morning, Coach Becky came to my house to answer questions about the program so far. Our earlier meetings had all been virtual, with text messages flying back and forth. The self-guided materials have been wonderful, but meeting in person today was an absolute delight. Becky got to meet Joe, and she also left as a new “kale angel,” taking home a bag for her family. Friends know all about Joe hoisting garden vegetables onto anyone who stands still long enough—Becky is now officially part of that circle!

Following a recommendation from Becky’s sister (a PhD in physical therapy), Joe and I ordered a NuStep T6 Pro cross trainer. The only downside is that it won’t arrive for two and a half weeks. The upside? I’m super excited to begin using it to build my lower body strength and improve my overall fitness. In the meantime, I’ve started a new chair-strength routine two days a week to complement the chair yoga I already do the other five days.

I’m looking forward to seeing the progress a month from now—from the changes in my diet, sleep, hydration, and activity. My motivation feels incredibly strong right now. I can’t imagine a day when it lags, though Becky assures me there will be tough ones. Intellectually, I know she’s right. But then again, nobody’s ever accused me of being an intellectual…

Meeting Becky face-to-face was such a gift. It’s not necessary to meet her in person for the program to succeed, but it’s certainly a bonus. She lives only a few blocks away—closer still if you take the local footpath that meanders near the end of our cul-de-sac and passes close to her house. I’ve wanted to walk that path since we moved in, but without park benches along the way, I didn’t think I could make it there and back without collapsing in a puddle. Confidently walking that path to Becky’s house will be a huge milestone for me.

Over the years, I’ve tried so many diets and workout plans—only to gain the weight back or see little change at all. What’s different this time is that I’m genuinely enjoying the journey each day, not just focusing on the results. Having a coach who understands the struggle firsthand, and who has made it her mission to help other women, gives me confidence. Having a program tailored specifically to my needs makes a big difference, too. I love when something feels like a win-win. Even on tough days, I’ll have somewhere to turn for answers. Instead of me trying to fit into a program, this one feels like it’s finally fitting into my life.


Each new choice feels like a quiet promise to myself—one step, one sip, one stretch at a time. I may not be sprinting down the pathway just yet, but I’m moving forward, and that feels like victory enough for today.


Monday, October 6, 2025

Brainerd, Baby Crawls, and a New Beginning

Image generated by ChatGPT

Megan, Oliver, and I went to visit his Grandma Shelly and Papa Artie in Brainerd today. Oliver was a trooper, though a two-hour car ride each way wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. He did enjoy crawling around on the restaurant floor, and by the time we left, he was pretty well coated in whatever was down there. Fortunately, the restaurant was quiet—most of the 11:00 a.m. crowd had opted for the bar section—so we had the dining area all to ourselves.

Now, I know a good grandma probably wouldn’t let a baby crawl on a restaurant floor, but hey—my kids played in dirt and they survived! Oliver got some good exercise in, and he slept almost the entire way home, so I’ll call that a win.

Today also marked my first official day on my new health plan. I’ve learned quite a bit over the past week, especially after logging my meals for three “normal” days. Turns out, I’ve been seriously under-eating protein. The “normal days” part made me laugh, because anyone who knows me knows I rarely have one of those. Still, it’s good to see what my new normal will look like—more food, but the right kinds this time.

One major benefit of focusing on my health plan and working with a coach is that I have less time to wallow in political frustration. I’m still trying to keep up with the awful ICE news and the ongoing budget mess, but at least I’m channeling my energy into something positive. I’m actually glad the Democrats didn’t sign the budget—one can hope ICE funding dries up and sidelines them, though I doubt it. They’re probably still getting paid as “emergency workers.”

Still, it renews my faith in humankind to read that ICE is having trouble recruiting. Nice to know some people find that kind of work loathsome, no matter the paycheck.

This evening, I’m off to try a new workout routine. I hope you all had a good day and that you’re finding bits of joy wherever you can. My joy today was simple—spending time in the car with my daughter, talking, laughing, and sharing the road together.

Sunday, October 5, 2025

Remembering Aunt Janet

My Aunt Janet (Janet McLean) passed away last night at the age of eighty in Pelion, South Carolina. Joe and I had the joy of visiting her and my Uncle Doug during our travels in 2023 — a visit I’ll always be grateful for. Uncle Doug passed away just a few months ago, on July 17th, so I find comfort in knowing we were able to see them both together one last time.

Some of my fondest memories of Janet go back many years. She came to California with my mom to meet my newborn daughter, Megan, sometime between mid-March and early April of 1992. Megan would have been about a month or two old. That summer, in July, my mom (Janet’s baby sister), Megan, and I drove to South Carolina to visit Janet, Doug, and their daughter, Angel. I remember that visit so clearly — full of laughter, family stories, and the easy warmth that always surrounded Janet.

For about ten years or so, I’d send all of my Christmas gifts to Ohio, and when Janet was visiting from South Carolina, she would lovingly wrap them for my parents and siblings. It may seem like a small thing, but it meant a lot to me — one of the many ways she quietly showed her love and care for others.

Growing up, I thought my Aunt Janet was a movie star. With her blonde hair and that radiant smile, she seemed to light up every room she entered. She was eleven years older than me, so most of my memories are of her in her mid-to-late teens — beautiful, confident, and ready to take on the world. Then she married Uncle Doug, and off they went together on their Navy adventures.

I loved her very much, and I’m so thankful for the chance to visit and reminisce with her in 2023. Those moments will stay with me always.


Obituary link for family members reading this: Janet Ruth Hudkins McLean Obituary October 4, 2025 - Culler-McAlhany Funeral Home

Saturday, October 4, 2025

The Worst Friends

AI Generated (ChatGPT)

This morning, I partnered up with two long-time “worst” friends: Shame and Humiliation. Together we tackled the first steps toward a fit and active me.

Shame showed up right away as I posed for the dreaded front, side, and back view photos. Wearing tight-fitting clothes and exposing my body to both my own and Joe’s eyes felt like standing in front of a row of daggers — not quite touching me, but close enough that even the smallest movement could pierce and deflate any remaining sense of pride. Thankfully, Joe quietly helped set up the photo area and took the pictures without a single comment.

Then came Humiliation, ready to take its turn while we measured my body. The only tape measure I could find was marked in centimeters, which meant writing down big numbers. Converting to inches gave me smaller numbers, but they were still too big for comfort. The leg measurements were especially demoralizing — you’re supposed to measure 10 inches above the knee, but my upper legs are only about nine inches long. I already knew my legs were short, but somehow discovering how short hit differently.

Oh, and Shame and Humiliation really had their field day when I moved on to videoing myself doing squats from every angle — front, back, both sides. Thirty “sort-of” squats later, I had a crystal-clear picture (and four videos) of just how much work lies ahead.

But here’s the thing: once I pushed through every mortifying, terrifying step, I realized just how committed I am to my future success. I chose to put myself through it instead of saying “Hell no!” and crawling back into my delusional frame of mind — the one that thinks I’ll wake up tomorrow svelte and fit, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

There’s something healing about facing reality and telling Shame and Humiliation that there’s no more room for them in my journey. I may not be leaping tall buildings yet, but at least I’m on my way.


Friday, October 3, 2025

Starting a New Health Journey

One of my greatest concerns is staying healthy so I can enjoy my retirement and have more years with Joe Coehlo. My weight puts extra stress on my body, and over the years I’ve tried a multitude of diet programs. The success in all that trial and error is that I’ve learned what does—and doesn’t—work for me. But post-menopause, even a string of good habits hasn’t been enough. Since retiring on December 31, 2022, I’ve been stuck at the same weight.

In the back of my mind, I’ve always told myself it was my busy lifestyle making weight loss harder. I’ve also been very convincing when it comes to blaming a “slow metabolism” (which may or may not be true). More activity hasn’t translated into losing pounds, and lately I’ve felt trapped in repeated patterns that just don’t bring new results.

Then, last month, my vegetarian neighbor posted about working on a healthier food plan. She had reached out to her nutritionist friend, Becky, who offers coaching through her company Leveling Up Midlife. I was curious, so I checked out the website and downloaded a free booklet called The Ultimate Guide to Fat Loss in Menopause. A few days later, my neighbor posted again about starting the program. I asked if it also worked for post-menopausal women—and that led to me meeting Becky over Zoom today. By the end of our conversation, I had decided to begin working with her.

I’m excited about this new journey. Over the next week I’ll be completing assessments, and within a couple of weeks Becky will have a program designed specifically for me and my goals. This isn’t going to be an overnight fix, and I know the effort has to come from me. But for the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful.

So where do I want to be? I want back my joy of movement. I want to wake up eager to take a walk or tag along with Joe to the grocery store. I want to take my grandchildren to the movies without sending them ahead with my credit card while I sit and rest on a bench just 150 steps from the car.

This journey is about health, energy, and joy—not just a number on the scale. And since I’m sharing it here, that means you’ll all be on the journey with me. Please send positive vibes my way—I’ll take all I can get.

P.S. If you want to download the free booklet here is the website: https://levelingupmidlife.com/ 

Thursday, October 2, 2025

What I Wasn’t Told to Expect


To the list of problems I was not sufficiently warned about, I would add:

  • ICE raids in Chicago that are horrendous and done purposefully for the optics.

  • An ICE agent bragging about being “proud” to occupy Democratic cities, and even threatening white people to “go home” or be next.

  • ICE agents wearing masks and refusing to show identification.

  • People being “disappeared” simply because they have brown or Black skin, or speak with an accent.

  • American citizens being held for hours—or days—because agents are too busy to check the valid identification (Real ID or U.S. Passport) they already have on them.

  • That Project 2025 would even be a thing.

  • That a President of the United States would try to end democracy.

  • That a President of the United States would use—or even threaten to use—the American military against citizens.

There is also far too much misinformation about the reasons for the government showdown right now. Sadly, many people will not seek out the facts. The good news is that mainstream media is reporting the truth about what’s inside the “Big Bad Bill” that passed in July—specifically, the slashing of Medicare and Medicaid funds. If Democrats were to vote for the budget resolution, they would be complicit in raising medical costs for low- and middle-income Americans.

I hate to see a government shutdown. At the same time, I am grateful the Democrats are standing firm against a budget that would harm so many people.

When the noise gets too loud, I’ll retreat to my quiet room with a book and let the stillness remind me there’s more to life than headlines.

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

A Little Bit of Fun

I desperately need some laughter today. How about you?

It is meme time!

 






Reminder that good things are happening!











Tuesday, September 30, 2025

In Memory of Gary Davis



Photo by Joan Davis

This morning brought sad news to our family. Gary Davis, a Hudkins cousin, passed away last night while in Hospice care. He had been ill for several years, and a car accident on September 26th weakened him further.

I was asked to write a formal notice for our family’s private Facebook page, and I also spent much of the day on the phone with relatives as we all tried to process the loss.

Gary and his wife, Joan, always made an effort to connect with me whenever I was visiting Ohio. They also spent time visiting with my parents over the years. On September 22, 2019, Gary and Joan came up to the assisted living facility where my sister was staying and took Megan and me out to lunch. I had been keeping vigil for Jeni as she lay dying, and I remember feeling so grateful for their company that day. As we headed back to the facility, we got the call that Jeni had passed away. I will always think of Gary and Joan as my own personal angels in that moment.

I also remember June 19, 2023, when I wrote about Gary and Joan taking Joe and me on one of their famous backroad drives (famous, at least, in our family). They treated us to lunch, and we had a splendid day together.

This is the notice we shared on our family page:


With Love, We Remember Gary Davis
Gary Davis (1946–2025)

Gary Davis, 79 years young, died peacefully on September 29, 2025, with his beloved wife, Joan, at his bedside.

Though Gary faced health struggles over the years, a car accident on Friday, September 26th, put great strain on his body, leading to kidney failure. He was transferred to Hospice care, where he was able to spend precious time surrounded by family.

Joan described Gary’s final moments as magical. Serenaded by Colour My World by Chicago and A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum, Gary crossed over at 11:20 pm. Colour My World was Gary and Joan’s song, and its lyrics capture the deep love they shared:

As time goes on
I realize
Just what you mean
To me

And now
Now that you're near
Promise your love
That I've waited to share

And dreams
Of our moments together
Colour my world
With hope of loving you.

In honor of Gary’s wishes, a celebration of life will be held at a later date. In the meantime, we invite you to share your favorite memories of Gary in the comments.


Losing Gary feels heavy, but I’m holding onto the memories of his kindness, his laughter, and the way he and Joan always made time for family. I’m grateful for the moments we shared, and I know he will be remembered with love.


Monday, September 29, 2025

Forty-Seven Sends Troops, Portland Sends Jokes

 

Sending 200 National Guard troops into Portland, Oregon is not funny. But at the same time, people in Portland are finding their own way of coping—with humor. The post I shared above, along with the comments, made me laugh out loud.

For those who haven’t been following the news, Forty-seven has called up 200 National Guard troops in quiet Portland, Oregon. (Some commenters have even joked that maybe he meant Portland, Maine, since there’s no war in Oregon.)

Even if you aren’t very political, I think you’ll get a kick out of the “fake” letter from a soldier and the clever responses from Portland citizens.




New Post



Sometimes the best way to deal with heavy news is to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Portland’s sense of humor is alive and well, and that’s something worth holding onto.









Sunday, September 28, 2025

Sunday Quiet, Shattered by the News

Sunday mornings are among my favorite times. I love that the neighborhood is even quieter than usual and everything feels still. This morning I woke up at our usual “weekend” wake-up time of 10:00 a.m. (since Joe’s work schedule often keeps us up until 2 or 3 a.m.). I stayed in the bedroom with the lights off — blackout curtains drawn — sitting in a chair, listening to the silence, and reading on my iPhone.

I lost track of time and was surprised when it was already 1:00 p.m. before I made it downstairs to forage for food. Once I got something to eat, I settled in the sunroom and checked the news.

The headlines were devastating. In the past 24 hours there have been multiple mass shootings. One especially horrifying report came out of Grand Blanc Township, Michigan, where a man drove into an LDS (Mormon) church, opened fire, and set the building on fire. At least one person has died, with several others injured, and the motive is still unknown. Some have already rushed to call it a “targeted attack against Christians.”

I think back to the bombings and shootings in Black churches over the years — those were rarely described in those words. And I don’t recall the shooting at Annunciation Church in Minneapolis, just a month ago today, being framed as a “targeted attack against Christians.”

I hate that forty-seven takes dreadful situations and twists them for political advantage every which way he can. He’s already shown he’ll direct the DOJ to go after his enemies, proving he has no moral compass. I can’t help but wonder if his constant attacks on Portland, Oregon — calling it “war-ravaged” when it isn’t — are really about sending a message to Senator Ron Wyden, who is pressing hard for the Treasury to release Jeffrey Epstein’s financial records. I have no proof of that, but given his history, it certainly crosses my mind.

Maybe the quiet of my darkened bedroom and a good book is what I need again this afternoon.

Saturday, September 27, 2025

Spicy Snacks and Sweet Moments

Coffee-flavored biscuits, cappuccino-flavored hard candies, and Kokola Super Cream pineapple cookies were the big winners from this month’s Universal Yums Indonesian snack box. With Jeremy, Megan, and Oliver off at the Gophers football game, it was just Caleb, Charlotte, Joe, and me tasting our way through the treats.

Caleb wasn’t a fan of the crackers topped with cheese and chocolate sprinkles, or the lemon and mint hard candy. I agreed with him about the crackers, while Joe sided with Caleb on the hard candy. Charlotte didn’t care for the jasmine tea drink and thought the cassava chips with spicy balado flavor were too hot. The rest of us liked both the tea and the chips. Oddly enough, Charlotte loved the Chiki Twist flaming hot extra-spicy corn snacks (basically like spicy Cheetos).

Caleb’s quote of the day was, “Isn’t it funny how I like international snacks so much?” We all laughed, and I told him, “You like snacks in the USA too!” He admitted that was true. Charlotte’s special treat this month was that none of the snacks had any kind of tree nuts. In past months she’s often had to skip at least one—sometimes more—since she’s allergic to walnuts and sensitive to other nuts.

We enjoyed spending the day with our oldest grandchildren, and we even managed to sneak in a few snuggles with Oliver before and after the football game. It was a sweet mix of snacks, laughter, and time together—the very best kind of Saturday.

Friday, September 26, 2025

Why I Stay Informed, Even When It Hurts

Some days I’m not sure if I’m tired because I’m sixty-nine years old, or if it’s from the emotional strain of staying politically informed and engaged.

I believe it’s my civic responsibility to stay informed. I get that it’s not for everyone, but I hope there are enough of us engaged to thwart the worst of the current regime’s abuses. If Forty-seven wants to know what radicalizes an aged liberal like me, it’s the crap he and Stephen Miller are pulling. Project 2025 radicalizes me. The current DOJ behaviors are radicalizing me.

One thing that is not radicalizing me is some imaginary leftist movement or George Soros. George has never even offered Joe or me a check. Antifa is not an organization — it’s a movement. For those who don’t understand what Antifa is, or are afraid of it, here’s Wikipedia’s opening paragraph:

“Antifa (/ænˈtiːfə, ˈæntifə/) is a left-wing anti-fascist and anti-racist political movement. It is sometimes described as a highly decentralized array of autonomous groups in the United States. Antifa political activism includes nonviolent methods of direct action such as poster and flyer campaigns, mutual aid, speeches, protest marches, and community organizing. Some who identify as antifa also use tactics involving digital activism, doxing, harassment, physical violence, and property damage. Supporters of the movement aim to combat far-right extremists, including neo-Nazis and white supremacists.”

While I do not condone violence, doxing, or property damage, I can imagine there are fringe individuals who do those things — just as January 6ers who stormed the Capitol were not representative of all Republicans, conservatives, or right-wing people. Meanwhile, Forty-seven posts on Truth Social and says in speeches that Democrats are the enemy. He even signed a (legally worthless) executive order designating a fictional organization as a domestic terrorist group:
https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/09/designating-antifa-as-a-domestic-terrorist-organization/

Why would Forty-seven sign an executive order about a fictional group? My thought — shared by tens of millions of Americans — is that it’s a way to create a common enemy to entice MAGA back into the fold. His MAGA followers have been falling away as they realize there’s something in the Epstein files that he’s keeping from them after promising during his 2024 campaign that he would release them.

He’s also losing mainstream Republicans who voted for him in 2024. Food prices haven’t come down, fuel prices have stayed the same in most parts of the country, and ICE agents have arrested citizens and immigrants with legal status and no criminal records, even tearing children from families. Sadly for Forty-seven, many mainstream Republicans — and even some of MAGA — are starting to see that his efforts are having a negative impact on their lives, and most won’t fall for the campaign against Antifa (a cartoon this week summed it up: “Anti-Antifa = Fascist”).

To amp up his war on democracy, yesterday James Comey was indicted. Most of what I’m hearing is that the case may never make it to trial and could be dismissed as baseless. Forty-seven’s Truth Social statements make it clear this prosecution is strictly political and revenge-motivated. I am not a Comey fan — I thought his actions toward Hillary Clinton were deplorable — but I don’t think anyone should be targeted simply because a president declares them an enemy. Of course, according to Forty-seven, I’m also an enemy of the country (no, he hasn’t called me out by name, just by my political affiliation).


Staying informed is exhausting, but writing about it helps me process the chaos. I remind myself that even in the middle of all this, there are still millions of people who care deeply about democracy and decency. That thought is what keeps me going.


Thursday, September 25, 2025

Slow and Steady Today


For the third day in a row, I woke up with pain in my left leg. Not the way I’d choose to start a morning. So far, I have spent most of the day stretched out on the futon in the sunroom, where the light comes in just right. Between political podcasts and drifting off for little naps, the hours went by quietly.

Joe found one of our old canes, and it has been a big help. I’m planning to take it easy and continue resting today. My entertainment of choice is the Dead Zone series on TubiTV, which feels like the perfect companion for a slow day.

Here’s hoping my leg gets the memo soon. Until then, it’s me, the cane, and Johnny Smith from Dead Zone keeping each other company.

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

Late Night, Cozy Ending

This does not happen at my house ... Joe mows the lawn.

Quick note tonight since I didn’t get home until about 7:00pm. Dinner ended up being a late one—around 8:30—after I blew a breaker in the kitchen by running the air fryer and microwave at the same time. Once I ate, I couldn’t leave the dishes in the sink, so the kitchen had to be cleaned.

By then it was 9:00pm, and I decided a nap was in order. I stretched out in the sunroom and slept until 11:00. From there, I somehow got sidetracked with double-checking our estimated federal and state tax payments for the rest of 2025.

All the while, I had the news on in the background, which was probably a mistake—it didn’t exactly make things feel more restful.

Anyway, all is well here in the Coehlo household. I hope all is well in yours too. That’s enough excitement for one day—I’m ready for rest. May your evening be calm and cozy as well.


Tuesday, September 23, 2025

Guest Post: The Great Tylenol Tragedy of 2025


Trump declared, with all the gravity of a wartime address, that Tylenol is “no good” and that pregnant women should “fight like hell” to avoid it. The cause? A supposed link to autism. The evidence? Dubious at best. The presentation? A master class in political theater.

RFK Jr., a man whose scientific qualifications end at “once attended family dinners with actual doctors,” nodded seriously as if he’d just cracked the genetic code. Dr. Oz, meanwhile, stood by like a mascot of pseudoscience, his TV career having sold more miracle cures than a 19th-century patent medicine salesman. If snake oil had a human form, it would’ve worn a tailored suit and smiled politely beside the Resolute Desk.

Now, to be fair, science is messy. Some studies have suggested an association between acetaminophen use in pregnancy and neurodevelopmental issues. Others found no such link. This is what grown-ups in lab coats call “inconclusive.” But in the Oval Office, inconclusive became gospel. Trump, who has a gift for boiling complexity down to slogans, simply declared: Tylenol causes autism.

And here’s where the comedy turns cruel. Pregnant women across the country heard those words. Women like Haley Drenon in Texas, who admitted she panicked because she’d already taken Tylenol for headaches. Imagine the anxiety that spreads when a president, flanked by two carnival barkers dressed as medical sages, transforms uncertainty into dogma. That’s not public health; it’s public harm.

Medical experts responded with the expected exasperation. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists reminded everyone that acetaminophen remains the safest option for pregnant women, that untreated fever itself is dangerous, and that no causal link has been proven. The FDA; dragged into the circus, issued a statement so hedged it could double as a shrub, admitting no solid evidence while promising new warning labels anyway.

Meanwhile, RFK Jr. pitched leucovorin, a decades-old chemotherapy adjunct, as the new frontier in autism treatment. Scientists, with weary patience, pointed out that the research is in its infancy, barely past the “maybe” stage. But nuance doesn’t trend on social media, and RFK Jr. knows the value of a headline.

Here’s the cynicism buried under the comedy: autism isn’t a “horrible crisis,” as Trump called it. It’s not a tragedy to be eradicated. It’s a spectrum of human diversity, deserving of respect, research, and resources. But when politicians frame autism as a disease to be stamped out, they’re not just spreading misinformation; they’re devaluing millions of autistic people and their families.

That’s the true tragedy here. Not Tylenol. Not even autism. But the willingness of leaders to weaponize science as performance art.

And yet, part of me can’t help but marvel at the choreography. There was Trump, the consummate showman, delivering lines with the confidence of a man who knows facts don’t matter if the performance hits its mark. There was RFK Jr., earnest in his pseudoscience, a prophet in search of a cult. And there was Dr. Oz, smiling on cue, the human embodiment of a product endorsement nobody asked for.

Forty years ago, America lived through the original Tylenol murders; capsules poisoned with cyanide, lives lost, trust shattered. That was sabotage by an anonymous killer. Yesterday’s spectacle was sabotage of another kind: poisoning public trust not with cyanide, but with confusion, anxiety, and misinformation. The bottle looks the same, but the danger now comes from the label written at the podium of the Oval Office.

In the 1980s, we were blindsided by tampered medicine. You could open a bottle, take a pill, and never know the danger until it was too late. Yesterday’s Tylenol spectacle was the same horror in a new form; truth itself tampered at the source, handed out with presidential seal and prime-time coverage. The tragedy is no longer in what we swallow from a bottle, but in what we’re forced to swallow from our leaders: a reality so warped it would make cyanide feel like a wellness trend.

Another Busy Day

Here it is, 8:00 p.m., and I’m still trying to get all of my food in before my 11:00 bedtime. Eating healthy whole foods means eating a lot ...