I rose with the sunrise for another clear and sunny day. It would be hot. I had vacuumed and cleaned the night before. Instead of cleaning, I started on the blog and got my day started. I made coffee, started reading emails, and loaded transactions into Quicken. It logs into my bank, credit card, and mortgage accounts, retrieves market data, and assembles all this into a clear view of my balances after applying any new income and expenses. This is how I keep my future safe by reviewing every day what is happening to my money.
I enjoy fresh coffee, Fair Trade, and writing the blog for Thursday. I try to remember what happened, and it comes in sudden bursts as my mind reconnects the threads. I assemble a narrative from the flashes and often add some observations here and there.
I also wrote a card to Mom Wild. She has been more confused of late, and I get panicked calls from her. I hope a pleasant card or postcard will help her find peace.
Steve Wolff-Lynne texted me that he is in the area, and we connected and will meet at BJ’s Brewhouse at 11:30. I have to hop into the shower and do all that to make that time. I also hear from Emma C, my niece (Barb C’s daughter), has made her connection and is inbound to PDX (our airport here in the Greater Portland Area, which is unimaginably named after its call letters, PDX). I am time-boxed, but I expect I can meet Emma on time (and likely early) by reaching a MAX train around 1. Plenty of time to have lunch with Steve.
Steve and I avail ourselves of the lunch specials recommended by my often-bartending Rachel. I have a red ale, but a regular-sized one, as I don’t want to nap on the train and lose my way. We chat about a few subjects, including how I got myself, totally unplanned, back into church positions. It was a great lunch.
I drove home, had a few spare moments, to get my Apple Watch and my hat, both of which I forgot this morning, and then retraced my trip to the MAX and ran to catch a train. But it was the wrong one. I get off and wait for the next one. While there, I notice that the cement railroad ties are spaced differently for the two tracks. A train operator greets me, and I ask him. He was just as surprised as I was to see them mismatched and told me he now has to figure this out. “Why are they different? That is so weird!”
I finally get the Red train thirty minutes later and ride it in and back out of Portland. One traveler asks me about my book, then discusses AI and mathematics with me until someone comes on with a dog, and suddenly he thanks me and heads out. Next, a homeless man clutches a bag and slowly sneaks bits of his lunch from it (eating on the train is forbidden), but the bag falls, and he seems helpless, crying out. I collect his items into the bag, hand them back to him again in the bag, tell him it is fine, smile, and nod; he smiles and takes back the bag. Being seen is so important, and getting help when you are unsure what to do makes things better.
The train arrives, and I quickly find the men’s room in PDX (beer and water not necessarily the best choice before an hour-plus trip on MAX). Emma is coming in ‘E’ and I find the new arrival area. Emma is thirty minutes late because a temperature sensor was not working, and then a fox scampered onto the runway and had to be chased away. Emma appeared and was happy to be here in the Pacific Northwest.
We took the MAX back. Emma is moving to the PNW for her Master’s in Criminal Psychology at Pacific University. She does not drive, and so pubic transit is important to her; we agreed to use MAX for the trip. We did pick up the car at the MAX station parking and then headed home. After a short break, we headed to Hillsboro for a Mexican Dinner at Amelias, a favorite. Our food was good, and the margherita (I had a small one) was excellent. Emma had a Piña Colada. We walked to the huge giant sequoia planted more than 100 years ago at the Washington County Courthouse, retrieved a pine cone (one of my favorite things for folks to take back home), and then got back to Air VW the Gray (thanks again, Steve, for suggesting “the gray” for the EV).
We then drove to Forest Grove and drove around the campus. The sun was starting to set, and it was dark when we got back. Jetlag was catching up with Emma. We drove back, about thirty minutes, and she was soon tucked in at the house in the Leta Suite, as I call the spare room.
I wrote and did some chores. I set an early alarm and expected to be driving all over the area as we looked at apartments. I went to bed, read, and slept.
Thanks for reading.
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