One of the strangest things for me is having nothing planned and no plans in the morning. There is no need to get up early, rush, and start an early morning at Nike WHQ. No 6:30 morning Zoom meetings (morning or evening). The days no longer disappear, and the weeks do not vanish like pages in a book blown like wind. When I write this, it is Thursday morning, and it seems like the week is moving slowly, and the days are full.
With no plans and feeling tired, I stay in bed until 8ish. I rise, find the last banana, and have liberal coffee with it. I wrote a blog until 11 and felt I could have been going for another hour, but I felt the pull of the day and wanted to get outside and enjoy the bright sun. I clean up and make lunch. I have no tomatoes and know when many, including Dondrea, would think a BLT reduced to a BL is abhorrent, but I have always loved them. I cook the uncured bacon (I avoid over-processed foods after reading so much bad news about them), and soon, the house fills with the smell of cooking bacon. I litter the sink with more undone dishes, without guilt, after I finish my sandwich and place excess cooked bacon for a later meal in a ziplock bag and in the frig.
Full and more than ready to get outside, I boarded Air Volvo, which is all but on autopilot, as I headed west to Hillsboro (this was the trek to reach Susie when she was in Forest Grove for months). Surprised, Air Volvo located a convenient parking spot, and soon, I was in the bright but not overly hot sun in Hillsboro. Antiques, food, beer, and coffee are easily found in the clean and bright downtown. An excellent hobby store specializing in trains, models, and doll houses makes it perfect for my needs, and a gaming store that always has hard-to-find-new board games makes Hillsboro always expensive. On this trip, I passed on the hobby and gaming store.
First, I stopped at the old converted theater, now an antique mall, and located the Account Handbook, 1923 (ten years after income tax was reinstated in the USA) I discovered before. Previously, I could not buy it as it had no price, and I had to wait for the vendor of the stall in the antique mall to correct that. I was delayed on my return and found the book back on a shelf with a price (and my name and phone number still in the book on a piece of paper!). I took the book and wandered the place to see if something else required consideration. Nothing else needed my attention, and soon, I was in line to buy my book. A girl bought a pretty Art Deco cat china statue, and a guy bought some old-style china tea cups and a sugar bowl. You can get unmatching but lovely tea cups, teapots, and the works at any antique place for a few bucks–don’t buy more expensive mugs at IKEA; instead, impress your friends with your cheap and bohemian tea set (thinking of James Wagner’s tea cups when I write this).
I bought my Account Handbook, which looks more like a bible than technical work with a black, almost leather cover and gilded pages, for only $8. I paid cash. The antique mall is a collective, and the front desk does the paperwork for the sale, and the results, minus a small handling fee, are returned to the stall owner, who also pays a small rent and usually starts in the worst locations far in the back. They can acquire a better location as they show their ability to pay rent, have some sales, and are neat. I watch, having been visiting a few months, and much of the stock is turned over, and younger folks can find nick-nacks and some house good for cheap here.
Aside: Why a 1923 Account Handbook? I play the Call of Cthulhu role playing game, and props from the 1920s are always welcome. I also find the text of handbooks and travel guides from the time period can open your eyes to the 1920s. There are usually interesting opening texts and updates about law changes that you can only find in these books that create an insight into the times. For example, the Federal Reserve was in place in 1923 (I did not know it went back to the 20s) and described on pages 864-866. The text mentions the reserve requirement of gold of 40% created in 1921. Well, maybe not interesting to you; it may be fun to build a horror story starting with an accountant discovering something is amiss or maybe some arcane plot that makes the gold disappear in a vault, possibly wrecking the reverse bank. Yes, I get ideas from these very mundane texts. Even one of the James Bond books, a favorite I have read over and over, Goldfinger, is about issues with British gold reserves. As for the book I bought, the cover shows its age, but the pages show almost no use. Excellent.
As I said before, I had no plans, so I wandered to the next antique store (which had nothing I needed) and raided the two bakeries for breakfast baked goods (a chocolate croissant I had already consumed Thursday morning). I return the goods and book to Air Volvo, and then walk back, needing the steps, and head to the Washington County Courthouse; Hillsboro is the county seat. I am there to look at the giant redwoods planted in 1880. The huge trees and other plantings make the area restful. The trees are not as large as those older ones in California but are, by quite a distance, the tallest things in Hillsboro. Nothing prepares you for the size of these trees as, unlike the forest further south, these few are alone, and you get the feeling of standing at the feet of giants.
I always take a pinecone home with me when I visit.
I sit at a nearby bench on the courthouse grounds and read and relax. A few lawyers see me, notable for the suit and leather document bag over the shoulder, who smile when they see me, and I tell them I am just enjoying the trees. One busy guy says, “Yes, I forget how beautiful it is here.” I think it is good to be retired and read some more on my iPhone (I have the Kindle app on the iPhone). Soon, I head-on. I buy pasta sauce, pasta, and expensive ground coffee, which they roast at the shop, and board Air Volvo. Without difficulty, I reach the Volvo Cave. I defrost some spicy Italian-style sausage and fry it in a pan, heat the sauce, and boil water. After 4PM, I start to assemble dinner. I managed to eat a few bowls.
I am off to First United Methodist Church in Beaverton. I have a new Progress Flag to replace the aging Pride Flag at the church (see the link to learn the history of these flag types). The top strip of the old flag is red, meaning it is a later design (pink goes on the top if it matches the original design, but it is hard to find). Z is expecting to play games and is surprised when I get out the toolbox, flag, pole, and other tools and equipment. The flag was lost in a storm, recovered on the other side of the church, and put back, and the pole was broken by folks attempting (we believe) to do a pull-up on the wooden pole, unsuccessfully. The slightly truncated pole was reused. It was time for an upgrade.
I have new printed Progress Flags with metal eyelets for attachment; I buy them two at a time from Amazon and a new pole (also from Amazon). I have a plastic ring with a clip. The old flag was sewed pieces of high wear and flame-resistance plastic cloth (it is nearly impossible to burn) into the familiar rainbow stripes. The new flag is printed on plastic cloth that will resist burning, will not fade soon, and has the check that makes it a Progress Flag.
I use vice grips to undo the screw that holds the pole in the holder. Lucky for us, no well-meaning liberal at the church glued the pole into the holder (that had the thieves have to smash up the flag holder and required a slightly more expensive upgrade–I keep at least one flag holder at the house, too) and the old flag was removed without issue. The old flag has a pocket that goes over the pole and a single clip to hold it. The new flag uses two clips and hangs from the pole clips. The flag waves more. Z helps me disassemble the old flag and reassemble the new flag on the new pole. With a full-sized pole, the flag is now four inches further out towards the street. It is a grand-looking new flag.
(Z is wearing a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt–she has no idea what that is; see link–that matches well for today. BTW KINK.fm always plays this for eclipses here–there is no place like home.)
Don’t worry, fellow liberals. As I said, I have more flags if someone “needs” this one.
After I put away the tools and old flag and pole, Z and I play the Euro-trash Istanbul board game, originally published in German and English. I have the newer, all-English Big Box version made from better card stock. We play just the base game, and it takes Z and me a while to get back into this one. It plays fast, and Z is quick and soon adopts my usual steps, forcing me to make less efficient moves. I make some mistakes, one grievous and costing me a turn. It is enough for me to see Z has me beat. My last move had I planned it better, could have gotten me a tie (I took the wrong extra item, so I could not trade goods for a ruby at the palace). I would still lose with money being the tiebreaker–Z had plenty left, but it would have been at least close.
With that quick shellacking–Z is relentless, I was ready to do better. We had time for two more games, and I managed to get ahead of Z in both and remain there. I was back to my usual efficient play. I like this game so much that I play by myself with me playing all three players. Istanbul is called a Euro game (or Euro-Trash). It is a race to collect rubies by completing certain goals and collecting a mix of resources to achieve those goals. You fill your cart with rubies to win. Resource collecting, worker placement, achievement for victory, no combat, and unique movement systems are the hallmarks of the Euro-trash games. The word is no longer considered pejorative; it is just a fun description. The game US-designed game Scythe contains all the elements mentioned except it includes combat and player conflict, making it Amera-trash.
I managed to get one or two rubies ahead of Z, and Z watched as I won the game two more times. I made no mistakes, varied my plans to fit the board situation, and kept all my moves extremely efficient. I even had a chance to redeem my previous game by this time taking the correct item and using the Palace to get my winning ruby. I just know the base game well; Z is still putting it together. Next time, we will change the base game to the “long” board or add in coffee, a fun add-on that allows for more choices and new ways to be highly efficient. I also do not know this version well.
(We are starting the second game. Z is happy she beat me in the first game)
The choir does not practice in the summer; we were done at 8ish. I returned home after wishing folks goodnight and watched more House of Dragons at the Volvo Cave. It is not great, and the storyline or plot (maybe that is too strong of a word for events that appear to be rolled from a chart of random possible choices) moves in strange stops and starts; I could not stop watching until it was late, it is addictive, and I stopped one episode that appeared to be headed for another random event (you can almost hear the dice being rolled by the writers). I went to bed as Thursday began after a shower. I leaned back to wash my hair and grabbed the bar in the shower. My eyes were closed to avoid soap in my eyes, and I kept going back. I am so happy to have those bars installed for Susie (who never used them- she never saw them except in a picture). To my fellow folks who are going gray or are already there (some colored), it is time to get those bathroom safety items installed before you are grabbing for them if you don’t have them yet.
I read for a while more and soon fell asleep. I dreamed. Mariah texted me earlier on Thursday about her camping challenge. A bear visited her tent, and she scared it away by locking and unlocking her car–excellent work. Except I dreamed I was camping with Mariah, and we were swimming in a river, and a bear was chasing us. We jumped on a log, and so did the dream-bear. I woke just as I was throwing off the covers to jump off the log, which would have landed me out of bed and onto the floor. I laughed for quite a while at my near disaster. Yes, maybe I dream a little realistically.
I am fine this morning. Thanks for reading.
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 