Day 87: Sunday

Sunday started with me rising from the ashes of standard time and rising like a phoenix into daylight saving time! F**k that did not happen. My alarm went off at 7AM, and I could not understand why the universe decided I needed to be punished. I located my slippers and waited, but they did not put themselves on, nor did the universe end with some glorious Jesus returning to save us from daylight saving time. No messiah today to stop this madness! Until November 3, we will get to enjoy this strange new time. Maybe we can get an apocalypse by then. Unfortunately, the closest thing we have is four candidates running for President and Vice President to the Four Horsemen. And the election is AFTER the time change. So be ready, dear readers, to do this again. Nothing is coming to save us from it.

Seeing that I was alive, I quickly sat at my Apple and wrote the blog. I discovered the furnace/AC clock was an hour the wrong way, and I corrected that. What it is connecting to is a mystery to me. It is not Internet-based. I made toast and low-sugar jam for breakfast with the liberal coffee I made in the French Press. I wrote for ninety minutes.

I dressed in my gray suit, black shoes, gold vest, and pride tie. A flash of color for a gray day in Oregon. The golden chain for the vest pocket watch finished the look. This means suspenders under the vest and not a belt for this look.

It was just misting when I boarded Air Volvo for Beaverton’s First United Methodist Church. Dondrea was preaching again; Pastor Ken was still in Asia. The choir anthem was an old piece by John Stainer. Mr. Stainer was an Anglican in the late 1800s and early 1900s who wrote many pieces, most not played now, but he does slide in on some Methodist service even today. Today was God So Loved the World, which he published in 1887 and is part of a more extensive work, The Crucifixion, one of John Stainer’s works still performed to this day–I have heard it a few times.

Dondrea gave the sermon on the last part of Acts. The story is that Paul is surprised to find the Romans and the local Jews willing to listen to him. Dondrea points out that the folks who lived in Rome had to deal with many different views and often explain or even justify their faith. The locals were not threatened by new ideas and embraced them. We need to listen, even to people we don’t agree with, to build a better community. We cannot live in a comfortable echo chamber, a prison of our own, and thrive. We must be more than that. Also, we know what is right and should just do that.

After church, I should go home and do some scanning, but I was tired already, and Rev. Anne Weld-Martin invited me to lunch at Copper River. I accepted and met them there after I crossed Beaverton caught in church traffic. I forgot about some of the Sunday church traffic and was stuck for a while, but I finally reached the place, and Rev. Anne and Rev.Dr. Wayne was soon there. Paella was on the special with sausage, shrimp, muscles, and salmon. Just excellent and slightly under-salted (perfect!). We chatted about church, music, Susie’s Concert, and travels. Wayne had the lobster fettuccini from the regular menu and loved it.

After dinner, I helped with the logistics of getting Wayne in the car and headed home in Air Volvo. It was now raining, and the drops were cold and threatening to be sleet. I returned home. The water around the house was high again, and the drains were more pools than drains—something I need to invest in. I went inside and carefully changed out of my slightly damp suit and back into regular pants with a belt. I rested and read but knew I needed to grocery shop today as I was traveling on Wednesday night. I have two more nights left in Oregon this week.

Aws was checking. He is an Iraqi who has lived in Beaverton for over ten years and is a friend. I was thinking about him as Ramadan starts soon. I always wish him well, and we talk about the challenges of being observant, or at least partially observant, in Beaverton. It isn’t easy. He was happy to see me as I was shopping.

I had made a list and forgot to put shaving needs on the list (ugh, but I can shop in NYC if I don’t cover that before the trip). As usual, I added a few more items as I shopped. I filled the cart, and after $247, it was enough. Aws checked me out, looked at my pile, and I told him my nephew (that is what I call Corwin) was living with me. He thought it was good that I should not be alone (he learned of Susie’s passing). Looking at all the groceries, we laughed as we knew I would likely have had a bag of items just for me. Aws is working two jobs, 17-hour days, and cannot be observant this year. “Living the dream,” he said. He also said he had saved enough to travel to Europe soon. Excellent.

We fist bumped (COVID-19 replacement for handshakes), and I left thinking good thoughts for Aws and all the world Muslims: Good Ramadan to you all.

Corwin is better and received the bounty I supplied and put it away for me. Now I had a headache; I was cold and wet. I rested, read, and found peace in Songs About Jane by Maroon 5 and then Supernatural by Santana, played on our Amazon Echo. I gently napped, and the coughing and discomfort left me. The music made me smile. I read more about the Dark Tower adventure, reaching some of the more out-of-proportion items (an ancient dragon that does not fit nicely) from the original. There were suggestions on how to deal with this rule break (according to the D&D 5E math, a group of adventures would be entirely destroyed by this creature and, therefore, should not be used in an adventure as an encounter–it is against the rules). I am not sure what I will do if I play this adventure.

I had a can of tuna for dinner—nothing fancy—but that did not stop the headache. I then made a cup of tea, which worked and also helped the cold symptoms. With the pain behind my eyes fading, I started on the blog.

The day seems to have disappeared, and it is almost 9PM.

Thanks for reading.

One of the places I plan to visit again in NYC: