Dear reader, I am sorry if the recent blog entries (is a group of blogs a ‘bloggal’ or a ‘blogative’?) are more mundane, but my trip starts on Tuesday and hopefully will help you visualize some of the places I will write about. Some of my kind readers have told me they enjoy reading about the usual things. It brings comfort to share the typical American Pacific Northwest (PNW) experience.
After all the travel, it is a pleasure to sit here in my office looking out the window while I write, pay bills, and generally do things online. I now turn on the bright desk light and let the pure white light help me avoid the depression of no light. Something you have to be careful with here in the PNW. The light means I can see, if I look for it, my own reflection on the window with my face floating outside. Yes, I am both here and there at the same time. Both online writing in some digital region with the ghostly Grammarly following along (I can imagine a TRON-like scene of me reporting to you, dear reader, inside The Grid with some angelic-looking program, Grammarly, next to me whispering to me about every typo), and also in the real world, enjoying the rain, hummingbirds, flickers, and squirrels proving who really owns the apple tree, and trying to be creative while writing.
I am reading Ta-Nehisi Coates’ The Message as recommended preparation for the lead part of my trip through the American South, and about Civil Rights. Nothing I would have picked, but still an interesting focus, and the writing is colorful and fun. I have it on my Kindle, sticking to the rule that only history books, textbooks, and writing guides are bought now. And cookbooks are resisted.
Deborah sent me, as a gift, the new cookbook, Good Things: Recipes and Rituals to Share with People You Love, by Samin Nosrat, signed. I have read the introduction; it is marvelous and recommended. I did not read her previous cooking book. Deborah and I both heard an interview with the author, and both were intrigued.
My indominable Japan-style roses. Even in the shade and the rain, they are happy.
Monday started, as a ritual, with me not rising to any alarm, and today I threw on clothing and drove to McDonald’s for coffee, hamster surfboards (their hash browns), and an egg muffin thing that might have a cheese product on it. Today, it did not taste like cardboard or plastic, but like breakfast, cheap breakfast, but still good enough. And I will have no cleanup.
I wrote the blog and paid bills. I verified the Quicken downloaded transactions and mourned my IRA balance at US Bank (down again). Their fees have gone through, and my stocks, dividends, and earnings have yet to materialize to keep my balance at my previously recorded value. I will wait a bit longer before booking a reduction. More mind games, since none of this is ‘real’ money—retirement pre-tax.
I showered and cleaned up. I then headed to First United Methodist Church and brought three Christmas CDs—some of Susie’s favorites—for Jack to use at the church’s Christmas Fair on Thursday through the weekend. There, I dropped off the CDs with Wendy and checked out the progress. Sheetrock will be installed today. The mudding follows. This is the remaining structural work. All looked good.
I stopped by Taco Bell and had their strangely terrible but also good Mexican Pizza. They had brought it back to the menu. I went through the drive-through, but ate it in my car listening to the radio. Local Oregon Public Broadcasting political news. In rural Oregon, this might be the only news, and OPB ensures that all voices are heard. OPB receives no state funds, though in other states, there are multiple PBS stations—often one per large university—but in Oregon, there is just OPB. They try to be voices for everyone.
Next, I dropped in to the local ready care and got some help with a minor health issue. Prescriptions and directions were given. It will likely clear up soon. I did have to chase the prescription because Walgreens had the old phone number, and I did not know I needed to take it to another Walgreens. I learned that at the local one, ugh. I managed to call the other store, head home, wait on hold, and then speak to a helpful person who said they could fill it in 90 minutes. I was vacuuming and cleaning toilets when the call came in—30 minutes later—that they had filled it (!?). An hour later, I stopped the vacuuming and drove again across dark and wet Aloha to get the drugs.
Everything was good, and soon I was driving back. The traffic was heavy, and I made the mistake of not pulling into a parking lot but of jumping the curb. All was fine as I took it slow. Slightly frazzled, I got home.
I finished the vacuuming, put away the dishes, hand-washed the few remaining ones, and talked to Deborah for a while. We miss each other. We started another episode of the Kathy Bates version of Matlock. The conflicts are flying, and tricks, Matlock-style tricks (with some even whistling the old theme of the previous Matlock), are demonstrated, and Deborah and I both yell ‘no’ when Kathy Bates’ character even falls for one. It is only the second episode, darker, and impossible to tell where it is going. I like it.
Deborah, three hours ahead and like all of us suffering from night coming sooner, says ‘good night’ and soon sleeps. I, having those three hours, tidy up the house, and then somehow force two suitcases of clothing (for 14 days) into one suitcase without damaging me, my clothing, or the suitcase’s zippers. I believe I must have bought TARDIS brand luggage!
But before that, I head to our local sushi place for dinner. There, I have tracked selected raw fish with rice and miso soup. All wonderful and always so exotic to me. I never grew up with this, and so it seems, always, new to me and fun flavors.
Next, after returning, I dump my carry-on and pare it down to the necessities, remembering I can buy things in the American South. A pair of dress shoes (certainly not fitting in my checked bag) is in the carry-on gym bag this time. Batteries are plugged in to be charged (later to be put in a carry-on). And finally, using my new meds, I read and try to relax. I managed to push through another chapter of The Message.
Somewhere in the day, I swept and mopped the bathrooms.
Crawling into my sheets, and no leg cramps (no beer!), I sleep only to wake at 5:30ish, as it is a travel day on Tuesday. No rolling over helps.
Thanks for reading!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 