The pond is back in the back corner of my backyard and has nearly reached one of my rose bushes–three or more inches deep. The river of rain, breaking some daily record of rain of an inch and a third, and then again that much again the next day. Light flooding or what I call puddles everywhere, and I had to suddenly drive around a deep one on an on-ramp to Murry Road in Beaverton in Air VW the Gray! Hat and coat weather, but somehow reassuring to me. We are restoring more snow pack, yay! The moss seems to almost glow in the gray light. The trees in my yard are green, not leaves, but moss, some three inches.
I had tummy issues all day and night. It was fading, but still it was there all day.
I rise early, at 7, and start the usual routine: coffee, reading email and news (I look for interesting non-war or non-Trump stories now), and updating my transactions in Quicken to keep an eye on my finances (retired, my investments are all that I have). I move the accumulated sale of an ETF and my Oregon tax refund into my savings, since my checking account, a remainder from another time, pays no interest. Boring but necessary steps. Discipline is part of my survival strategy as a retired person at 61.
While drinking my coffee and going through my morning routine, I think about what I have learned from the news. The world continues to tell itself lies that Justice with Compassion is too expensive, and we could always do that later. And if anyone needs a reminder that we have had this issue for a long time, here is a reminder, in Mark Twain’s words, as a play in 1967 during the Vietnam War and the Cold War. I drink my coffee with its bitterness.
I write and include my denied Freedom of Information Request in the Epstein files in my blog post. I copied a bit of the Justice Department’s letter. More to follow. I reassemble the day in my mind and try to make a narrative, and today the words flow without me losing focus.
I manage to get the blog done by 9:45 and manage a quick shower, shave, and so on to be ready at 10AM. My alarm is set to pull out the injector pen from the refrigerator 90 minutes before my appointment. I had assembled the sharps box, wipes, and seral pad to wipe away any blood on my desk in the office.
At 10, I join a Zoom call, and Emily, the agent and RN from Skyrizi, watches, moving the laptop to balance on the wastebasket to give her a good view, and we go through the somewhat elaborate ritual of pen injection. No mistakes and no pain in my right leg (the good ear side). I hear all the clicks, and Emily counts to fifteen slowly to reach the 15-second wait. I hear the click of completion, and the window is filled with the yellow injector thingee. Later, on Friday, it was hard to get up, and I felt tired (some of those flu-like symptoms).
I switch out of swimming trunks and dress in pants (I am not Pacific Northwest enough to wear shorts and sandals in the winter). No immediate side effects (if I were allergic, I would be headed to the ER). And soon board Air VW the Gray and meet Scott W at McMenamins Cedar Hills for our weekly lunch. Brad could not make this one. We talk about the war and investments. Scott W needs a new cheap car for his daughters (for the obvious reasons), and we talk about cars and purchases. We had a nice visit (though a spilled beer had me jump, Scott W said he did not know I could move that fast).
I headed home and again forgot to head to Home Depot (I need to look at flooring). I was going to read more of 1929, but Corwin stopped by and was having some issues, and I had to help him find his calm. A trip to Wendy’s and just calm words worked. Food requires you to change your thinking and focus on something else.
Thursday would have a theme; it is not about the issues and forces that drive you mad, but about your reaction to them. You need to remember that all you can control is your reaction to these events and, to a limited degree, your exposure to the things, whatever they are and always different for each of us, that upset you. I would hear these same words (and say them too) at Theology Pub, which was dealing with Forgiveness as its topic later Thursday evening.
Corwin fed and better heads out to deliver food for a living (making $50 a day for a total of $350 a week). I read more and watched the ending of Down Cemetery Road, an excellent show. I read more of 1929 and can’t put it down. The author knows how to keep your interest while explaining the complex (and mostly banned now) shenanigans Wall Street used in the 1920s to generate sales. I learned that the newly formed Federal Reserve had issued a ruling and changes to reduce margin stock purchases, which sparked the first sell-offs in February 1929. The Fed saw it coming, and President Coolege, being replaced by Hoover, was reported to say that a depression was on the way as he left office. All interesting to me.
I picked up Jack on the way to Theology Pub back at McMenamins Cedar Hills. We arrived early, but everything was ready. Sarah was our waiter. I had a gin and tonic to pretend it was Spring. We managed about ten (many people are out traveling and like), and as I said, we shared about Forgiveness. Bob was affected by the reported mid-air collision in the war, as he used to fly the same tankers for the Air Force. Questions were raised about how to forgive the President for a war. We also need to forgive ourselves for those mistakes as a caregiver. I
t was a nice discussion, and we also lost our focus and just chatted. Excellent. I had the mushrooms-and-steak appetizer when I had had enough salads and carbs. I took Jack home and then returned home.
I read for a few hours. I had talked to Deborah here and there throughout the day, and I sent a ‘good night’ text during the meeting. It was hard to put down 1929 and thought about reading all night, but nodded off after a few chapters completed (I am in mid-March 1929; the book goes by weeks of 1929). I slept until late on Friday with some slowness I attribute to Skyrizi.
Thanks for reading.
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