Tuesday with adventures

Tuesday started with me sleeping in late and getting to the blog almost after 9. I was tired and had no plans; I just luxuriated in the covers. The house was still warm, and the bed felt like an excellent place to be. I finally rose, with just a hint of guilt, and found the kitchen and my usual work area. I started the usual process of making locally ground and roasted coffee, turned on the light for the orchids who looked scandalized that it was not cold, misted them, and started to write the blog on my AirBook M2 computer. I found instant steel-cut oats and cooked oatmeal. I began to write as oatmeal just simmers and checked on it a few times. I add brown sugar, banana slices, raisins, and walnut pieces to finish the oatmeal. It was a nice change.

Much of the morning was spent writing the blog for Sunday, a busy and well-ordered day. Tuesday was not planned and certainly not ordered. I ran my numbers by having Quicken download and update. The increases in equities these couple of days are primarily due to a Fed rate cut as employment crashes (don’t ask me what I think about raising the interest rate to “help” people). Still, in the weird logic of modern times, I, unemployed and retired, now have more money on the promise of a rate change. The rate cuts will take months to positively affect ordinary working folks. Growl.

I am done before the morning ends. I clean up, dress, and head outside. I walk my long walk to the distant mailboxes on the other side of Rock Road. I have not managed this walk in years for various reasons, but today, I manage it better. I will not get another walk, so the day ended with 4,100 steps, mostly from the one long walk.

For lunch, I reheated some rice and butter chicken leftover from a few days. It is still wonderful and just burns enough to remind me of India. I did not finish the sauce; just chicken and some sauce on my cup of rice seemed enough. After that, I was at a loose end.

I return to my 500-word story, micro-fiction, and revise it. With so few words, transitions must flow naturally from the words as you cannot afford to spend additional words like “for example.” I remove extra words and tighten the flow. I am still working on the start and have only thoughts on bringing the story to a conclusion that will cause the reader to shutter. Gwen, one of the leaders for the H.P. Lovecraft Film, told me to write her stories that make her feel the horror in the story. I am not sure I can reach that, but I will try.

The hours flow by, and I get confirmation from Dondrea that we can meet at The 649 for food, drinks, and a game after 5. I need a break after the 4,000 steps and writing for hours, so I rest and read. I manage to rise and see that Deborah has been texting me from Michigan.

Deborah will meet me in Chicago, and we will start working out the details by text and phone. Hotel rooms are a problem on Saturday; Friday becomes the target, and we replan. No opera, but a show is possible, “The Book of Mormon,” and I find some less than NYC and Portland-priced seats and get tickets. Here is a song from the show. We both will arrive in Chicago on Friday the 13th. I will stay until Wednesday (18th Sept); Deborah will make a quick trip.

After that, I took Air Volvo to The 649 and found a table; it was not that busy. A corporate group that I would guess as sales is visiting. The light jackets and dresses make it clear this is corporate casual and not the usual come-as-you-are Oregon and the accents are Mid-Western USA. Taylor calls me over and puts in my order. Then she pours me a beer while the near-endless line of the group continues to sample and select with Crystal. I order the hummus platter, and soon Dondrea and Z arrive and start in. We ordered more food and a non-alcoholic blueberry drink for Z.

We tried Crisis: 1914, and I tried to explain this utterly anti-intuitive game to Z and Dondrea. I soon realized they had never played a tableau-building card game, and soon, most of my explanations did not connect with them. I walked them slowly through a turn. They slowly saw the flow but had no idea what the strategy was.

Taylor reminds us that minors must leave at 7, so we pack up and head over to Baskin Robins for ice cream. Dondrea wants to try the game again, as she now sees that it is like nothing she has played, and the concept of a brinksmanship board game without combat, engine building, or other usual war game elements fascinates her. Z was OK with it. We head out.

I told Z that not only was today the first day of school but she also got thrown out of her first bar today. Excelsior!

Air Volvo has me home. I am tired and stumble a bit. I am too exhausted to return to writing, model building, and cleaning. I find the recliner comfortable and watch more of The Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power. I shower early, rest, and read. I enjoy more stories from The Orchid Thief, which is more about the history of Florida’s native plants and native people now. While the author is a journalist and tries to report a balanced story, you can tell despite attempts to balance the story, she thinks some people are just nuts and that orchis lovers are a special kind of madness. I find this book a treasure as an orchid lover (with only a light case of orchid madness) and a history lover. Recommended.

Soon, the AC turns the house cold, and I can almost hear the orchids cheer. As usual, when I rest early, I can’t sleep, and various proofs of hydration also keep me awake. I finally sleep sometime after midnight, but I wake twice more to prove hydration, f**k. I finally sleep.

Thanks for reading.