Sunday Alone Again

Once again, I am alone at the house. While I enjoy my home and my silence, I miss having Deborah here. However, there are only twenty-three days until we reunite in California for a business conference, and I will be Deborah’s +1. This is a role I have not done before. So Long Beach next month!

I rose for a 7 a.m. alarm and made Equal Exchange coffee using their ground French Roast beans. Its dark color and bitterness remind me that we liberals have so much more to do. But Hope is in there, too, and I know that someday, Justice with Compassion and the Love of Community will rise. With Hope–coffee–I have a banana and some fruit-filled yogurt for breakfast.

I do “doom scrolling,” as we liberals now call reading the news, which is drenched in politics. I update Quicken with my transactions and balances. I get WordPress going using their older editor, which works better and Grammarly can usually interface with.

Deborah reminded me that ‘hers’ and not ‘her’s’ is correct, which leaked into the blog yesterday. I remember fighting with Grammarly about replacing the word for something nonsensical, but I missed the grammar error. Grammarly did flag it in the quotes above this time. Hmmm.

I finished the blog, chatted with Deborah, and soon showered and dressed. I am back to showering in the morning, as the pollen is not bad now. I usually shower in the evening in the summer/spring/fall, meaning I take no pollen into the bed. I find I am healthier that way. I put on the tie Deborah sent me, butterflies, with a green sweater vest and a white dress shirt. I wear black humburg to keep my look more colorful. It is gray and wet; you sometimes have to bring your own brightness to the Pacific Northwest.

The service is the usual, but Michael R, not Pastor Ken, gave the sermon titled “The City is Ripe.” Ken does get into a homily-like moment as he covers an event at George Fox University across the low mountains in the Willamette Valley. Michael R says that Jesus covers water and living water with the Samaritans. The story, John 4, includes the apostles missing the point and Jesus pointing at the crowd from the Samaritans and saying that the fields are ripe. Michael R points out that Jesus met the Samaritan woman and the people who came when she told her story where they were. In the story, Jesus was not judgemental of their mistakes or the terrible history of the places at Jacob’s well. Instead, Jesus told the apostles to connect with these new believers. Michael R concludes that cities are places where we can meet people where they are and help and connect with them, never judgemental or expecting anything in return. Just help and friendship.

After services, I stopped by the house and picked up my laptop; the EV was still charged from last night. I did not charge at the library stations near the church (I did notice that all but one of the level 2 chargers were in use on a wet Sunday morning) as I had a 98% charge.

I headed to BJ’s Brewhouse. Our local one has better food than others I have tried. The water was higher, but despite the warnings and puddles, it was not much water for us. I saw the creeks were not filled as I crossed the small bridges on the way to lunch. At the church, I noticed someone had marred Air VW the Gray driver’s door. It must have happened in the parking garage. I have also seen some aggressiveness towards EVs by other drivers, mostly muscle cars and oversized pickup trucks. Being older, wealthier, and better insured (to quote Bette Midler), I drive my usual friendly, ‘but this is my lane’ style. I, therefore, parked the EV away from all the other cars again.

I sat at the bar and talked to a guy named Adam, who also plays Dungeons and Dragons, while I ordered their excellent red ale and the weekend-only double-bone pork chop—the best pork chop I have found. I gave him my business card but have not heard from him. BJ’s has 1/2 off pizza to go on Sunday, so he was getting dinner and had beer while waiting for his pizza.

After a nice dinner and having a dessert I did not need but was excellent, I took the EV home, parked it in the garage, and with a 90% charge, did not bother to charge it. I ran more laundry, stripped the bed, and remade it with other sheets. I took a chance and ran the sheet overnight in The Machine. No water leak! Good!

I was tired and dizzy. I was also feeling sad, as Deborah’s absence and grief over Susie combined to make it a difficult day. The mix turned me to my usual solace: reading Canadian murder mysteries and crime novels. I spent most of the day reading and napping. I finished the book while the rain poured. I cooked some bacon, chopped it, and combined it with frozen veggies fried in the bacon grease and pasta I picked up at Pike Place Market in Seattle.

Deborah, now in the Eastern Time Zone, had trouble sleeping. We talked until late, her time. She rang off as she started to get sleepy.

I finished my book and started a new book, Kolchak: The Night Stalker, from a Kickstarter. This book became a TV movie by the same name and was well-received. A second movie followed, and the short-lived TV series came next. Fans work brought Jeff Rice’s original book into existence in a new edition via Kickstarter, and it was re-edited to include some missing text. So far, the book has been fun as it is in the first person, and the words align with Darren McGavin’s take on Kolchak telling the story. Kolchak now exists with Darren McGavin’s image as a comic book character.

I rose, did some laundry, and felt better. I put on my PJs and read more in bed. With Kolchak’s voice still in my head, I fell asleep. I do not remember my dreams, but I do remember a vague dream of exploring somewhere.

Thanks for reading!