Thursday

I slept into 8 and nearly 8:30 on Thursday morning. Smoke was here, and the air was of moderate quality, and I could feel my throat and lungs reacting. I had trouble sleeping as my legs became itchy again. I found the kitchen (it had not moved) and made locally ground and roasted coffee in my French Press. I had another scone from a bakery in Hillsboro and a banana with the coffee. I spent the morning writing the blog for Wednesday and all the usual reading of news (mostly political), downloading transactions for Quicken, checking the purchase of 500 more shares of Ford (F) as part of my liquid assets, and other morning online tasks.

As often happens, the morning just disappeared in a puff of writing, light Internet surfing, and breakfast. I am always surprised to find the morning over. In this case, I had lunch with Scott and was only fifteen minutes early. Even when I am not trying, I am often early. Strategy and Tactics’ new regular issue had a new war game; they publish a new military game every quarter, and this one covered the siege of Jerusalem 70AD, a topic of interest to me. I used to have a subscription, but I never found time to play even a tenth of the games and gave away most to GoodWill. I have just a few favorites. I was reading the story and rules while I waited.

Scott soon arrived, and we found lunch at Elephants Delicatessen. I had my usual tuna fish heated sandwich with a slice of cheese. Scott went for two types of salads (a noodle and pasta), and that looked good. I may go that way next time. We caught up and covered our matching experience of investing in liquid investments. We both went with CDs as easy and high enough interest. I will look again at bonds and bills from the treasury as Scott saw higher rates than I did, but I was in inflation-adjusted stuff, and I suspect it pays much less.

We talked about our projects with Scott, who was disappointed that his scaffolding purchase had been mangled and only comes in partial deliveries, doing all those house things that accumulate. I, too, have a list of things that need to be done, but my loss of balance on the left side precludes me from climbing ladders and lifting things. Falling is always bad, but it is very bad for someone only less than ninety days from gaining a metal plate on the side of his head. No ladders and the project can wait, or I will have a local guy handle them.

There was other news, all good, but that is Scott’s story to tell. We were happy and finding things to do. I voiced my concern to Scott, saying that I was planless and felt slightly guilty just doing what I wanted. Scott suggested that I should drop the guilt. We will skip next week.

From there, I took Highway 26, which had surprisingly slow traffic mixed with hell-bent driving (Air Volvo goes fast), which made for some interesting stops and starts and sudden lane changes. I did not trip any alarms on Air Volvo. I took the folky-named Jackson School Road exit and then connected to locally named and unhelpful names like Old Church Road, which has an actual old church on it. Washington County has decided that traffic circles are safer and has installed three now on the back way to Forest Grove. Signs to Forest Grove do not appear until about halfway there and thus will not help anyone who needs them. I think the signs are there to help the locals remember which new turn on the new circle they take instead of just turning left like they used to.

Linda, my sister, texted me that there was a tsunami warning, but none of my usual warnings were kicking. The warning was local to the Far East, but Japanese officials did send out the first ever, according to reports, mega-quake warning. They feared that the 7-point quake would be followed by a massive quake. An 8-9+ point earthquake would create a tsunami that would smash up Oregon and the US West Coast, but this did not materialize. When you live on the Ring of Fire, paying attention to this stuff is important. Oregon will kill you if you don’t respect it, and it has many imaginative ways to do this (sharks, “sneaker” waves, fires, mudslides, floods, heat, and so on). There is always a toolbox, jump cables, and a first aid kit in the Air Volvo.

Enjoying the views of all the farms and curved roads that should be straighter in my Midwestern thinking, I connected to Forest Grove and soon parked Air Volvo, again, a surprise, right in front of the gaming place. The staff told me they were too busy to play games (I was disappointed), but I decided to finish reading my Strategy and Tactics Magazine and game issue in a chair at an unused gaming table. Ray finished his work, and soon, I was teaching him the easy and fast game of Furnace, the base game. My wait paid off. We used the matt I have for the game, too. Ray soon started running his own factories and bidding without help. I fumbled the last two turns and lost by just over ten points.

Furnace is one of the games I purchased after playing multiple games with Richard–I loved it. It is cheap, has a tiny footprint, and has an add-on that allows you to add more options once the brain-melt of the layered strategy of the base game wears off (for much more brain-melt with the add-ons). This is one of the most basic engine-building and resource-management games I have ever played, and it simulates building your own industrial base and using resources to power it. The winner is the player with the most money–yes, perfectly capitalistic. The bidding system allows for complex planning, too, and some bluffing, and, in a two-person game, chance-taking. The add-on includes new bidding options and more complex factory functions, which are fun, but you need to master the base game before approaching the add-on! Furnace is recommended, but find someone to teach you and then enjoy. I also find new players win (Ray and Dondrea both won in their first games).

Ray took my phone number and will let me know when he is free for some more games. I was relieved to hear him mention his girlfriend, as I did not want any confusion about roles. I am just here to play games.

Next, I headed into Forest Grove Old Town’s hot, 91F (32.7C) streets. I found a straw hat that fits from a Maryland-based hat shop, Hats in the Belfry, which Susie and I visited back when we lived there (1988-1996). It was only $15; this Italian-made version sells for about $200 new. I spent the rest of my day in Forest Grove with my new hat.

I looked for an early dinner in Forst Grove and settled on Urban Decanters, as their sign said they had the best AC and were near Air Volvo. While the wine shop and Mexican place seemed less high-flying (meaning cheaper), some folks in the Urban Decanters at 4 suggested it was worth it. The scent of the place was cleaner and almost sent me out as it was nearly overwhelming. The place was clean. I got a small table in the window (which was hot from the unrelenting sun). It was happy hour. Due to the nerve issues in my mouth, I ordered their base red, which first tasted like vinegar mixed with cleaner. Yikes! I braved the process and continued to sip the wine, and soon, my brain and nerve sorted it out, and it was no longer divided up into component tastes. That was a rather cheap red with no age on it. I like old-world flavors, but still, it was good to retrain on something cheap and easy.

I ordered the happy hour pâté with their bread. This was a strange mix of local flavors ground in with pits of pork. It was quite good, but I like my pâté to spread on the bread. I had the heated olives, which were all freshly pitted and reminded me of Casablanca olives. This and the wine, slowly changing taste with the other foods, helped bring me back to a more normal experience. This is another reason I have been avoiding the food scene–if everything tastes wrong, why be there. I see another wine experience in my future to help bring those tastes back.

Aside: Yes, I can add special characters to WordPress to spell pâté. Yay! And Grammary is out of its AI mind and keeps rewriting my stuff. Grrrl.

I looked at the regular items; everything was expensive but also promised to be more calories than I should eat after diving into olives and pâté. I asked my waiter about dessert, and she recommended the Olive Oil Cake. I believe I had a slice of this strange cake once before but did not like it, but the waiter’s eyes lit up when she mentioned the cake. Until this time, she managed to be the perfect unemotional waiter: lovely and unapproachable. I agreed to have a cake and got a smile from her. It was soon delivered, and it was excellent. She checked on me twice, eyeing the cake. The cake was wonderful, with a hint of orange and salt working in a near-perfect combination. A bit of handmade whipped cream on top, also with a hint of orange, reduced the heaviness of the oil-soaked cake. I finished and paid the bill, certain my waiter would be slipping a slice of cake for herself later.

I returned home in Air Volvo with only mild traffic. I tried another street, Walnut, and it was nearly blocked by traffic heading west. I was right to use 26 and bucolic roads to reach Forest Grove.

At home, I rested for a moment and woke just before 7 and the Theology Pub monthly Zoom call. I had planned to call from a bar, but the poor air, wine, and driving had tired me. I still tire easily after the surgery. I soon connected.

This topic was prayer, and I have to admit I am not that comfortable with it. I can do the group prayer and even make one up on the fly when leading worship, but I never find it comfortable to pray alone. I learned that my friends on the call have more trouble with group prayer, which is so strange to me. Being alone with God is scary to me.

The discussion covered that it seems to be better to leave those things you cannot control to God than to worry or fight for control of them. I had to learn and practice this “give to God those things you cannot control” over the last four or five years with Susie’s decline and passing and my own illness and career challenges, though I saw it more as giving to the universe. Less prayer and really tearful acceptance. For me, prayer is a sad mixture of acceptance and my scientific learning, saying there is just physics, no God, and trying to find some mix that works and does not seem to be me acting a part. In the end, a difficult topic for me. I should have been at a bar!

I would recommend joining Pub, with Dondrea handling the details with her usual perfection of the last-moment. Contact me or others at Beaverton First United Methodist Church if you would like to join the once-a-month Second Thursday at 7PM PDT.

Aside: Part of my exit package from Nike was a bonus for 2023, which is payable today (don’t ask me about corporate fiscal years). I was slightly distracted by yet more money to leave Nike while Pub was going on. This is the last payment.

After the Zoom call signed off, I decided that the air was too smoky for a walk. I did the dishes, worked on the model SMS Derfflinger 1916, and managed to fold and glue some more brass. My favorite smelly glue was a mess: G-S Hypo Cement. I found my (be f**king careful with) Tamiya Lacquer Thinner and cleaned up the mess twice. I managed to do one impossible, tiny brass folding and glue without spilling the thinner. I’m getting better at this. I have likely ten-plus hours more of tiny folding parts. I will get really good at this. IJN Yamato is in the work Q, too.

I am watching Jerry Bourget’s videos on building the wooden ship I have. I like his YouTube channel. It is here.

I headed to bed early, showered, and read some more brain cookies, a Star Trek novel from the 1980s. I soon nod off. Sleep is interrupted by itchiness and proof of hydration. Yes, I drank three glasses of water during Pub, f**k. I consider just staying up all night but falling asleep (until the next proof) before I can decide.

Sorry for how long the blog is today and the many asides and musings. Thanks for reading!