Residents across the Roanoke Valley are reporting a strong, foul, sewage-like or chemical odor, with potential links to illegal dumping in the Blue Hills area and a reported gas leak investigation on Williamson Road NW. Additionally, poor air quality with high particulate matter (PM2.5) is present, contributing to hazy conditions.

Suspected Source 1 (Illegal Dumping): Residents near Orange Avenue have reported ongoing, illegal construction debris dumping, which can create strong, unpleasant odors.

Suspected Source 2 (Gas Leak Investigation): Roanoke Fire and Rescue have been investigating a potential gas leak on Williamson Road NW as of Feb 25, 2026.

Widespread Odor: Reports of the smell extend across Roanoke and Vinton, with some describing a “sewer-like” or “chemical” odor.

Air Quality: The air quality in the region is currently considered “poor” for sensitive groups, which may exacerbate environmental smells

Today I learned that you can DoS a Waymo by opening its door.

Waymo, Google’s autonomous vehicle company, and DoorDash, the delivery and gig work platform, have launched a pilot program that pays Dashers, at least in one case, around $10 to travel to a parked Waymo and close its door that the previous passenger left open.

S.F. looks to repeal law requiring stores to accept cash

https://missionlocal.org/2026/02/sf-cash-law-repeal-unbanked/

The “very poor,” as well immigrant communities and the very young and old, the amendment read, “fall outside the non-cash financial system.” […]

Nationwide, those levels are decreasing, but remain significant. A survey conducted by the FDIC found that in 2023, Black and Latino households were overrepresented in the unbanked population, with 10.6 percent of Black and 9.5 percent of Latino households in the U.S. were unbanked, down from 17 and 14 percent in 2017.

Today, approximately 4 percent of San Francisco households are “unbanked,” or do not have a checking or savings account, and nearly 14 percent are “underbanked” — have bank accounts but primarily use cash or use check cashers or money orders. […] “These residents are often the most financially vulnerable and can face higher costs and barriers in everyday transactions,” Manke said.

The destruction of cash is part of the advertising panopticon agenda. Paper money doesn’t have a utm_source on it so it is useless.

Let us also keep in mind that this “vocal contingent of local business owners” are the same business geniuses who are always, always certain that a bike lane will ruin them.

🟢 The Pluses (Adding to your lifespan)

* Never Smoked (+4.0 years): The single biggest shield against vascular disease, lung decay, and various cancers.
* No Diabetes at 57 (+3.0 years): Proof of exceptional metabolic and genetic resilience despite carrying extra weight.
* Swimming 2x/Week at the Y (+3.0 years): Essential low-impact cardio that protects your heart and joints.
* Marriage (+2.5 years): A major statistical booster for men, providing emotional stability and better health monitoring.
* Zero Alcohol (+2.0 years): Keeps liver inflammation low and protects your brain chemistry.
* Vegetarian Diet (+2.0 years): Reduces systemic inflammation and the risk of colorectal issues.
* Maternal Genetics (+2.0 years): Having a mother thriving at 78+ indicates a “slow-aging” baseline (and your dad’s early passing from an infection carries no genetic penalty).
* Sleep Quality & CPAP (+1.5 years): Getting 7+ hours while treating apnea saves your heart from massive nightly stress.
* Nutrition Management (+1.5 years): Supplementing B12 and eating enough protein prevents neurological decline and muscle loss (sarcopenia).
* Upper Body Vitality (+1.0 year): The lat/arm strength built from swimming correlates highly with surviving cardiovascular events.
* Digital Content Creation (+0.5 years): Shifting from “doomscrolling” to creating provides purpose, builds cognitive reserve, and regulates ADHD dopamine.
* Cat Ownership (+0.5 years): Consistent, low-effort cortisol and anxiety reduction.

🔴 The Minuses (Subtracting from your lifespan)

* Obesity & Visceral Fat (-7.5 years): Carrying weight primarily around the middle acts as an “active organ” driving inflammation, while the overall mass strains your heart and joints.
* The “Tall Man” Tax (-3.0 years): Being 6’6″ forces your heart to work harder against gravity and statistically increases the risk of Atrial Fibrillation (A-fib) and cellular mutations.
* Chronic Back/Leg Pain (-1.5 years): The physical pain limits your daily walking mobility and acts as a constant, low-grade stressor on your nervous system.
* High-Carb/Late-Night Eating (-1.0 year): Eating heavy carbs after 7 PM fuels that visceral belly fat and disrupts your metabolic fasting window.
* ADHD Stimulant Strain (-1.0 year): While necessary for focus, stimulants keep your cardiovascular system “revved up,” adding wear and tear to your heart over time.

📊 The Final Tally
* Baseline (US White Male): 73.7 Years
* Total Pluses: +23.5 Years
* Total Minuses: -14.0 Years
* Estimated Lifespan: 83.2 Years

Journal Note to Self: My massive advantages are my habits (swimming, sleeping, no toxins) and my metabolic luck (no diabetes). My main daily goals are to manage my late-night carbs, keep hitting the pool at the Y, and channel my screen time into creative projects.

https://svonberg.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/yoyoos.html

https://svonberg.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/motheros.html

Just to have running on the screen

I am on day 20,842  of an estimated 21,353 day lifespan, if actuarial tables are to be trusted.

511 days left before borrowed time. Maybe more time available due to cat.

Productive, With Pastry

Today was gloriously ordinary. The kind of day that does not demand applause but quietly checks boxes and leaves you feeling mildly heroic anyway.

The morning began with a chocolate croissant from Blacksburg Bagels, rescued from last weekend’s farmers market visit and saved for just the right moment. Flaky layers everywhere. Chocolate doing what chocolate does best. There is no elegant way to eat a croissant. There are only crumbs and commitment. I embraced both.

Then it was off to the Y for a swim. The first step into the pool is always a negotiation with temperature. After that, it becomes rhythm. Lap after lap, counting tiles, trying not to swallow half the pool during an ambitious inhale. By the end, everything felt stretched out and recalibrated. Swimming has a way of making you feel both tired and upgraded at the same time.

Back home, it was laundry redemption day.

Loads cycled through like obedient little machines of progress. The real triumph, though, was finally putting away a stack of hanging wash that had been lingering far longer than anyone wants to admit. Shirts reclaimed their closets. Hangers fulfilled their destiny. The room looks the same to an untrained eye, but I know. The closets know. Peace has been restored.

Lunch was a carefully assembled masterpiece of practical sourcing. Marble rye from Blacksburg Bagels, pimento cheddar from Jamison’s, and not-ham from Kroger. Stacked together into a sandwich that felt far fancier than it had any right to be. The swirl of rye, the sharp cheddar, the savory not-ham. Balanced. Satisfying. Slightly smug.

Nothing dramatic happened. No skunks appeared on the nature cameras. No groundbreaking revelations occurred between loads of laundry.

But the croissant was excellent. The swim was strong. The laundry surrendered. The sandwich delivered.

And sometimes that is exactly the level of adventure a Tuesday needs.

Diane 11:30 a.m. February 24th. Entering the town of Twin Peaks

The backyard cameras have been busy lately.

Squirrels conducting high speed patrols along the fence line. A cautious raccoon testing the edge of the patio. The usual skunk procession moving through like a striped parade at 2 am. Wind bending the grass in long silver waves under the night vision glow.

But no gnomes.

Not a single pointed hat. Not one stout silhouette frozen mid-scamper. The nature cameras have captured everything else with dutiful clarity, yet the small mythical population appears to have either unionized, relocated, or simply decided to avoid infrared detection.

Even more concerning, the imp has been absent as well.

There was a time when I was certain he darted just beyond the frame. A blur near the compost bin. A suspicious wobble in the bird feeder that could not be blamed entirely on physics. Now the footage plays back with orderly wildlife and perfectly explainable shadows.

It is almost disappointing.

You set up cameras expecting raccoons and deer, of course. But you secretly hope for something else. Something that does not quite fit into a field guide. A flicker of mischief. A flash of red cap vanishing behind the hydrangeas.

Instead, the recordings show honest earthbound creatures doing honest earthbound things. Sniffing. Foraging. Pausing. Wandering off.

Part of me wonders if the gnomes simply disapprove of surveillance culture. Perhaps they prefer their magic undocumented. Perhaps the imp, ever dramatic, refuses to perform for an audience of microchips and timestamp overlays.

Or perhaps winter has driven them underground, curled beneath roots and stones, waiting for warmer evenings to resume their tiny conspiracies.

The cameras continue their silent vigil. The infrared glow pulses each night like a mechanical moon. And still, no sign of pointed hats or impish grins.

The backyard remains enchanted in its own way. Frost on the grass. Crows arguing from the treetops. The soft shuffle of paws across leaf litter.

But I cannot help glancing at the footage each morning, half hoping for that one impossible frame.

Just once.

A small figure, mid-stride.

Proof that something out there is laughing quietly when we are not looking.

Potato and Whitetop

February 20, 2026 – Turning Into New Corners

We did not go far today, but we went differently.

Roanoke has a way of folding you into routine. Same roads. Same intersections. Same errands. So we made a small decision to push outward, to finally step into a couple of places we had passed for years without entering.

We started with a familiar stop at Dunkin’. Not new, but dependable. I ordered an unsweetened iced tea and stirred in two Equals until it tasted exactly right. We gathered our food, then instead of driving on, we parked for a moment and let it become a late breakfast, even though it was edging closer to 1 pm by then. The clock insisted it was afternoon. Our guts argued otherwise.

There is something quietly indulgent about eating breakfast at 1 pm. No rush. Just sitting there in the car, sunlight slanting through the windshield, wrappers rustling, conversation drifting easily. It felt unstructured in the best way.

Our first true new stop was H.C. Baker Batteries and Electronics. I have driven past it countless times. Inside, it felt like discovering the hidden framework of everyday life. Rows of batteries in every imaginable size. Coiled cables hanging in neat loops. Adapters and connectors arranged with careful logic.

The place carried a sense of capability. It felt grounded and purposeful, like quiet evidence that most small disruptions can be resolved with the right component from the right shelf. We wandered slowly, scanning labels, appreciating the specificity of it all.

From there we went to the American Cancer Society Discovery Shop. The shift was immediate. Softer lighting. The faint scent of fabric and old books. Racks of clothes that had seen other seasons. Shelves of dishes that once belonged to other kitchens and conversations.

Thrift stores always feel like intersections of stories. Objects paused between chapters. We moved through without hurry, picking things up, imagining their past lives, deciding whether they might fit into ours.

What stayed with me most was the sense of expansion. Roanoke felt slightly larger by the end of the afternoon.

Not because we traveled far.

But because we finally stepped into places that had been waiting all along.