Tuesday Games and Vax

I woke on Tuesday with my alarm at 6:30 and considered for a few moments that I could skip writing the blog until later, close my eyes, and wake at 8-something and rush. But no, I climbed out of bed, found my slippers. I try to remember to wear slippers or shoes at all times, as my feet are slightly numb from chemo and diabetes, and I can damage them without the requisite pain-to-injury to warn me to care for them. I have found a small puddle of blood after nearly shattering my toenails. Shoes and slippers work to prevent that.

I located the kitchen; it was still in the same place, and I poured out Mexican coffee (assembled the night before), locally roasted and ground. While less bitter than my usual blend, sipping its bitter darkness while reading the news and the impending Federal invasion of Portland, I thought once again we have a long way to go until we discover Justice with Compassion in our country, and here in the Pacific Northwest, it appears seldom of late. I have a banana and a muffin with the coffee. I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog (there are often things you remember an hour or so after trying to recall events; sometimes I return to the blog and add them in) that I made Maple Pecan Muffins from a box of King Arthur Flour. And while muffins are a gluten- and carbohydrate-rich wonderland, they are still good, and I like them. An occasional dietary sin.

I write the blog until the last moment and even more into my planned travel time. I quickly shower, shave, dress, and get in Air VW the Gray, at about 90% charge, and head to war-ravaged Portland with my laptop and a card for Mom Wild. The traffic is slow and I am ten minutes late. I connect 26 to 405 and travel through the streets to reach Richards, and with the exception of some extra-legal driving, see nothing to suggest the war has reached downtown or lawlessness that calls for Federal troops with Trump’s shoot-to-kill order.

We, Richard, James, and I, return to the Tainted Grail cooperative and role-playing style game (dudes-on-a-board game). I took up my character named Maggot, a druid of the old powers, and we wandered the fantasy world, a mix of Arthurian legend, SciFi, and dark magic leaning towards Lovecraft. James added a notebook to the game and started writing down things. I seem to remember most of it, but James and Richard, both avid board gamers, do not recognize the storyline as I do, being a Dungeons & Dragons player. The story is everything to a D&D DM or player. We retrace our steps and find various complex challenges this time. Things we missed in the last plays, as we had previously rushed to complete missions. We discover items we were asked to recover in various minor quests. As our time is running out, we often play to 1, we solve another quest, and hit chapter 4. Yay!

I am enjoying the game more and push Richard and James to explore the story and stop searching for awards like board gamers. We are comfortable with the rules, combat, and diplomatic challenges. I could see the stories changing and morphing as we play, and I like that immersion. Better. It is less about building up my character, but rather about the story and how we interact with it. It is beginning to feel like a campaign to me.

We will play next week and then take a break for my and James’ travel. I head to Broadway Grill and get a parking spot in the nearly empty streets on Tuesday. There are a few folks there finishing their lunch. I get my same booth, open my laptop, finish the blog, and talk to Deborah a few times. We spoke on my drive in and while I waited for my lunch. I commit another sin and order the chili dogs. I am hungry.

I eat my onion-covered spicy dogs with meaty chili while I finish and publish the blog. I write a postcard for Mom Wild. It is the last day of September, and I remember this is the weekend a few years ago when Susie’s blood pressure crashed and she passed on the following Friday. It is hard not to let depression rise. But Susie passed in her sleep next to me (we both had nodded off) and left us among family and friends without pain or fear. You can ask for nothing more.

I manage to find my mental feet, mental stand, and brush away the depression and accept the sadness with the colors even brighter in the world. I take another picture of Portland, showing that it is all quiet on the Western Front, to borrow a phrase. And get back in the EV, not stopping at the excellent Broadway Bookstore, carefully backing into traffic, and then travel in a messy, near-rush-hour return to Beaverton. It is slow going with the speed never approaching extra-legal. This time, there are no wrecks, and I soon reach home. I am only an hour from my next appointment.

I stopped by the post office and mailed two holiday-themed D&D 5E adventures to Clint in New Hampshire. I purchased some stamps as my order had not arrived, and I had only a few left. I say I will take the Boston stamps and not the William F. Buckley, Jr. stamps. I liked his spy story books, and he was interesting to listen to when he did his show, but he was, to me, the best example of White Privilege running riot over people’s rights. If I were going to write a play with Mephistopheles, I would say just sit in a chair in a light suit and do Buckley. I was misunderstood by the postal clerk and took home those stamps too. Hmmm.

I receive the mail and open a package; yes, I also get my stamps. There in, I find a set of Ruth Bader Ginsburg cards and stamps of the Notorious RBG to go with the cards I ordered from the postal service. Yes, the same organization that published William Buckley, Jr. stamps. How bizarre and so American. It does give you faith. Those Buckley stamps are going on my next tax payment!

I next reboarded Air VW the Gray and headed to Walgreens. There, we discussed and finally agreed that I am not yet qualified for the RSV vaccine (I need a prescription), but the flu and the COVID-19 vaccines were ready for me. These are the updated versions that cover the latest versions and provide limited protection against new versions that will emerge later this year. It is the cheapest way to avoid costly medical adventures, terrifying adventures. My wait was longer to get the paperwork done; the person in front of me took quite some time, too, but once that was passed (and insurance was approved and paid), I received my cost-free injection from a kind pharmacy intern. I put them in the arm that did not enjoy the IV and blood donations. Now both arms hurt.

At home, I cut the New York Strip into pieces and let it sit in teriyaki sauce. I had stopped by Safeway and picked up some items to make dinner. I cut up one bok choy (I should have done all three). I sliced onions and browned them in oil. I added the steak and sauce. When browning, I add the veggies and cover them, letting the steam work on them. I made rice, 1/2 cup dry, to go with it. Rice is not good for me, so I keep it to small amounts. It was too heavy in meat and needed ginger to give it an extra kick, but it wasn’t bad. Ginger and 3x bok choy next time.

I spoke to Deborah for a while, and she rang off as she got sleepy in Michigan. I could feel the usual slowing from the vax. I get flu symptoms and slow down for a few days. I do the dishes, watching my best news source, late-night comedians (I do read the NYT, CNN, and often BBC and Jerusalem Post). I am dragging, and it is past 10. I find the bedroom (it is still in the same place), put on my PJs, and crawl into my bed. I bring a mystery novel as I finished another Chinatown story, but the racist writing and poor storytelling have not made me happy, and I think some polite British Murder is a good brain cookie.

But night closes in on me, and my mind is happy to drift off to dreams. And while the dreams were forgotten, they were not horror or me wandering lost, and seemed pleasant, and may have been walking in my dream kingdoms where I am likely running some version of Wild’s Furniture and Appliances, Inc. “We Beat City Prices!” in my phantom world. Selling dreams of comfort and ease, I suspect, with Grandpa and Dad. They close the deals when I can’t. Well, at least it is a happy fantasy for me to find in my mind this Wednesday morning while I write this.

Thank you for reading!