Author: alohawild

Tuesday was full of disappointments. The first being my alarm at 6:30, and that I needed to rise (no rolling over) to make it to gaming at Richard’s house in Portland. Air VW the Gray is at the spa, aka the dealership (when they charge $580 for a realignment, it must be a spa). At $270 a month lease and $556 for insurance for six months (with a perfect driving record), and spa trips, public transit is beginning to look much better. Air VW the Gray has less than 12 months left on its lease, and I have an overage of about 2,000 miles. But this year, it may make up for it if I don’t drive it to LA again (2,000 miles for that trip alone). Oregon will charge a tax of 2.3 cents per mile for EVs starting in 2027.

Hmmm, that is $4,524 a year plus maintenance (spa treatments) and about $20 a month in electricity, or more when charging on a trip ($35 per fast charge). Public transit, renting a car for longer trips, and Uber are looking economical!

Aside: Grammarly is out of its AI mind again and often mixes in a strange, illogical change with its spelling corrections. I am watching for them. My apologies in advance if I let that slip in.

I rose, showered, and dressed, and soon had my book on my Kindle (which did not work as it had not downloaded the new book) and my iPhone (I have the Kindle app). It was after sunrise when I headed out at 8 and waved to Chris and Harper, her daughter (who turned 9 yesterday), as they headed out in Chris’s huge black SUV. It should be useful should a dystopian future arise.

I walked to Tualatin Valley Highway (TV Highway), waiting a long few minutes for the walk signals, and waited only a few minutes for TriMet’s 57 bus to arrive. The sunrise was wonderful with light clouds and Mount Hood stealing the show.

I managed 4500 steps on Tuesday (good), though Monday (and my legs complained; better) was 5000+ steps.

I boarded and scanned in without issue, then rode behind a silent older man with a dog wearing a vest that said it was a service animal. Without any drama (everyone was quiet and seemed to be headed to work or appointments), we arrived at Beaverton Transit Center, and I boarded the Max train to Portland. Another quiet trip, and I read my book.

I missed my stop as the book, The Regicide Report (Laundry Files Book 14), was getting interesting. I hopped off, rescanned my virtual ticket in the Hop app on my phone, and rode a train back to the park south of the failing Lloyd Center Mall (you can now use a credit card). Richard picked me up a few minutes later.

At Richard’s, we finished the setup for the board game Trainted Grail by undoing the manual save process. This is an app-driven cooperative board game with a role playing game (RPG) feel based on a mix of Arthurian post-apocalyptic story freely mixing SciFi and Lovecraftian horror. James bought the game second-hand and with the figures painted dark and scary (an excellent painting job using Object Light Source (OLS) techniques with an airbrush). James is also a completest; he has acquired every add-on and promo for the game, but we are playing the 2.0 rules (and app) without the extras.

I was hopeful we would find our way to chapter 8 today, but alas, we just slowly wandered the areas, some new, others we have not seen since we first started the game. We collected many new things, to our surprise, and the big-bad, with us now reading the rules again, hit us hard and will be back—a timer of sorts.

Richard suggested returning to the other side of the board, and we had learned that there was a way to jump to the other side before. We executed that, and the game did a reset and moved us to the extreme East. Wow! And we will start there next week. We did the manual save process for the game.

Richard and I argued about politics. I apologized as the Minneapolis stuff has me on edge, but Richard was not offended. He dropped me off at the Max, and I took that back to Beaverton. Reading my book. I was still upset, and that made me cold. I arrived in Beaverton, skipped past the Beaverton TC, jumped off a few stops later, and walked a few cold blocks (with poor sidewalks and sometimes no sidewalks) to get to VW. I was very cold.

I paid the fine for owning a VW at the dealership, over $600. I used my debit card to save an additional 3% charge for using credit. The spa does not miss a trick. The EV drove well and, though I think I imagined it, seemed to drive better. All the batteries and other things that could go wrong in an EV (and covered still by warranty) were good.

Home, I put on a sweater, and Corwin shows up. Nonna Emilia Ristorante Italiano is open at 4 on a Tuesday (closed on Mondays), and we decided on a late lunch, early dinner (I had no lunch) there. The food seemed a bit less finished today, and the prices were high. The check, about $100, had a $10 error, but still with tip for two, this is not a $100 place for two. Corwin agreed, and frankly, the food was not better than Olive Garden, and the salad was not $4 for a small plate. $10 for a scoop of ice cream, which is free at The Old Spaghetti Factory, was shocking. Back to The Old Spaghetti Factory for me. Portion sizes are still huge, and I brought back 1/2 my dinner, which reduces my shock. Sadly, I will not likely return.

Disappointed, we headed back, and Corwin was wondering out loud how he could afford to take a girl out with these insane prices. Corwin left, and I read and watched some more, musing on the Battleship President Trump has proposed on the Battleship New Jersey YouTube Channel. Ryan, the curator of the Battleship New Jersey,  explained why a Battleship use case suggests a conventional power plant. It was interesting as it considered topics I did not know. The projected cost, even with conventional power, is as high as $22 billion, with a Ford Carrier cost at $13 billion. Likely, the cost will be less. Ryan reminds the watcher that, with the exception of carriers, the US Navy has not built a larger ship in over 70 years (yes, WW2 and early Cold War cruisers were the last). Ryan is skeptical that these Defiant Class ships will come to fruition. He also commented that the pictures show an underarmed ship (the equivalent of 1.5 destroyers). But, in my thinking, maybe in these times of missiles and drones, a larger ship with plenty of space and power has a mission in the US Navy. Makes me want to get out my rules for the old Cold War tabletop game, Harpoon, and create a new ship to add to the excitement. Though I think the USS Trump/Defiant would be a more likely target for incoming ordnance and wouldn’t last too long. Even with present tech, it is hard to hide 800 feet of steel.

I read, as I said, and tried to get further in the incredible world of Charles Stross. I was soon nodding off and soon fell asleep. I am sure, though the dreams are forgotten, of avoiding the maze traps of The Dark Pharoh by never plotting against it. I woke early, before sunrise, and started this blog.

Thanks for reading!

Aside: The brain surgeon’s office called. We are still having trouble finding a place for my MRI, but we agreed that Good Sam’s in Portland should work. Still looking for a peek at the brain tumor site to check that it is not starting again. Last year’s picture left questions.

I rose at 7ish and watched the darkness fade. I had no plans but maybe to meet Joan S and take TriMet into Portland. Maybe a visit to the museums (though the Portland Art Museum, PAM, is closed on Mondays again). While I was enjoying coffee, Irish-style ginger molasses cake, and writing the blog, the imagining folks called. I have a mass in my neck on the left side by the jaw joint, and it needs to be checked out. I scheduled a Thursday mid-morning ultrasound at Good Samaritan in Portland. They take my insurance.

I continued writing, finished the blog before 11, and dressed. Joan S and I agreed that she would pick me up, and then we would enter TriMet’s Max at Quatama Station. Soon Joan S picked me up (my car is at the mothership), and we boarded a train after a short wait towards Portland. We both had heavier coats as it is cold.

We arrived at Library Station in Portland. We then walked up the hill to PAM and learned that it was closed on Mondays. We crossed the park on Park Street, then paid for admission to the Oregon Historical Museum and enjoyed their third-floor display. There I saw sandals made by indigenous people back in 7500 BCE, and items carried by the Lewis and Clark folks. There were models of ships, but I did not see a picture or model of one of the 50 “jeep” carriers built in the area during WW2 (none were preserved as museum ships). Still, it was a fun display, and I learned a few things.

We broke for lunch, but did not get back to the museum. We headed to a favorite haunt of mine, Southpark Seafood. There, Joan S and I split two boards: one with cheese and the other with local fish. Their bread and butter is excellent too. A two-inch thick soft Focaccia served with garlic butter. This would be lunch/dinner with a snack later of more Irish-style cake.

We took Max back, and Joan S dropped me back at my house. A good day and lots of walking. I got a note that Charles Stross’s new book, The Regicide Report (Laundry Files Book 14), was released on Kindle. I had pre-ordered it, downloaded it, and started reading.

Stross’s Laundry Files is one of my favorite stories, and it often, with an American spin and less dark, colors my own hero, Howard, and some of my Call of Cthulhu TTRPG (i.e., Table Top Role Playing Game) adventures. I was happy to spend the rest of the evening reading.

Deborah was on a snow day. I spoke to her on and off during the day. We finished her day together. We have a little more than two weeks before we see each other again.

I went to bed early as I had to take TriMet again on Tuesday. Richard offered to pick me up at the nearby Max station. We play at 9:30 with James, the cooperative board game with hints of RP Tainted Grail.

I soon slept, and the morning game came sooner than I liked at 6:30. I remember no dreams.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

I rose with my alarm, but church is not to 11, so mornings, while time-boxed, are not busy. Coffee was waiting for me (Sleepy Monk; thanks, AJ, Steve, and Niki) as I had assembled it the day before. I doom scrolled as our nation struggles with the death of an ICU nurse who died for no good reason and the resultant smear campaign to justify the execution. I read my emails and updated my Quicken transactions more in a depressed trance than with any emotion. It is impossible for me to feel anything other than that, which makes me want to bring violence to violence with thoughts like, “Go ahead, ICE Agent, make my day.” But I am a peaceful man, and I don’t own a powerful handgun. I am focusing on cooking, food, traveling with Deborah, and baking.

I wrote the blog more as a habit, as all I wanted to do was say “f**k off world, I am going to stay in bed and blow off church and everything.” But discipline, habit, and the impossibility of letting a day go by without a record took over, and I did get the blog done. I would also miss my church folks.

I showered and dressed for church in my pride tie and unarmed. As I said, I do not have a handgun or a concealed-carry permit. I know of others, in the past, who attended church armed, good people. I took the EV to church with an extra-heavy coat and gloves. I also brought a book.

I got to church 20 minutes before the service, then rolled out the round table into the new space and set up the chairs. Others started to help me. I found the chairs in a hallway and brought them.

Jack was out this morning. I covered getting the offering put away, setting up the tables, and then putting them away. It was a bit of a shock to learn that we don’t leave the tables up for my fellow church folks, but the space is to be empty after each use, even ours.

Seth told the story we learned on the Southern trip about Cancer Alley in St. James ‘ Parish. This was bookended by Pastor Ken’s sermon, Grief in a Polluted Land. The scriptures, Amos 5:7-15 and Psalm 10, added a powerful underlying theme to the words of Ken and Seth. For me, Psalm 10 also spoke to me about the terrible actions of ICE and our US Federal government, “to do justice for the orphan and the oppressed, so that those from earth may strike terror no more.” Today, First United Methodist Church was a refuge with translated Hebrew words from 3,000 years ago ringing anew.

After church and all the words, coffee, tables, and other things, I drove Air VW the Gray to the mothership and dropped it off for its annual maintenance and a safety recall (in the form of a software update to prevent the car from catching fire when using a Tesla charger; I do not have the converter for that). I walked through the cars at the dealership, and there was no temptation for anything new. I joined a gentleman without an iPhone to check the status of the 57. We chatted, and he offered me his seat. I would not take it. I am retired and explained that I sat in church, but he did not take his seat. We both stood.

I felt he was showing me too much respect; some old white guy who cannot help but notice his accent was a threat. I felt terrible, especially after reading Psalm 10. Here was someone who needed justice for the oppressed, and my mere presence was setting him off. The bus came, and he used a monthly pass while I waited for my iPhone to tap.

It was a short trip, and I did not look at the man again, making sure he was not in my sight. Thus, he will be able to relax. Again, I was sad.

I next got off at the strip mall by my house and walked to the local sushi place. I got the last clear space, ate from the track, and ordered tea and muso soup. I read my book and managed to spill some soy sauce on it, but not too badly. I was able to dry it off.

At the house, Deborah and I connected and watched more of Elsbeth together, including the St. Valentine’s Day episode (from last year). I called Deborah later, and we finished her day together. I reheated the leftover Chinese-style food I made from Trader Joe’s stuff. It was good a second time.

I did look at Large Language Models (LLMs) and at some Kaggle and NVIDIA websites on how to load models. Google also had a large section on how to put safety controls on LLMs and newly created chatbots. The data load issues were strongly related to preventing duplicate data from being scanned by the model and to biasing the model by the duplicates. I am tempted to load my text with all of Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories and see what I get. The letters of Lord Nelson from the Napoleonic wars would also be an interesting source.

There was also a suggested JSONL loading format. This fits with my mind that the data contains more meaning than we are assigning. With this format, we ignore the column and row (Excel-like) structure and let each data element tell its own story. It is interesting to me that this is becoming the recommended format.

All interesting to me.

I soon went to bed and read more of Eric Kline’s book: Love, War, and Diplomacy: The Discovery of the Amarna Letters and the Bronze Age World They Revealed. It is hard to put down, but I nodded off and dreamed of letters and ancient kings. I turned off the light and went to sleep. While my dreams are forgotten, I imagine I wander through a mix of LLMs, JSONL, and chatbots, chatting with ancient kings by letter.

Thanks for reading.

 

Saturday was a good day to sleep in. I woke about sunrise on another cold, clear-skied January morning here in the Pacific Northwest. Later, it would cloud up and even sprinkle, but that was just a brief visit from the Oregon Mist, and it would return to freezing, cloudless nights. Our normal winter/spring weather, endless inbound Pacific-based dampness, has been pushed away by a polar vortex, which is troubling the central and Eastern USA. Today (Sunday when I write this), we will cloud up and endless damp returns all next week.

Returning to Saturday’s memory, coffee was waiting for me, more Sleepy Monk brand (thanks, AJ, Steve, and Nikolas), and I tried to find focus. I had made the bed with clean sheets, and it is always nice to wake to warm, clean sheets. It was difficult to rise and find direction, but at least there was excellent coffee waiting, having assembled it the night before. The coffee and the kitchen were where I left them; they had not moved. But it seems a longer trek on some mornings.

I have to be at Richard’s in Portland at 6 to play games. I invest the morning writing the blog, folding and putting away the laundry, and chatting with Deborah. I make more Trader Joe’s frozen Chinese-style meals, going with Mandarin Orange Chicken and adding sliced bits of orange and green beans. It was good and not drowned in sauce.

I completed The Umbrella Academy series with their final episode, watching the last three episodes here and there all day on Saturday. Like all endings of series, you don’t want it, and it never feels like enough. Still, I enjoyed the four seasons.

Deborah, Dondrea, and I had a call and discussed options for Deborah’s and my trip to Utah at the end of March and the start of April. Deborah and I agree with Dondrea to see the Arches National Park in southern Utah. Dondrea gave a list of walks, museums, and parks to try. I took notes. I will try to assemble a plan from it. Deborah and I are also headed to California again in June. We have decided that we enjoyed having Air VW the Gray when in Long Beach, and this time I will head to Orange County in the EV. I am excited to do another road trip EV-style. We are definitely headed back to the Hollywood area again.

Some time on Saturday afternoon, I take some bread slices (frozen and made in the bread machine), toast them, add some Swiss cheese slices on their last legs, and heat them in a small pan in butter. Add some water and cover with a lid to let the steam heat the cheese. That is dinner.

I never got out for a walk, but I was busy all day. I take Air VW the Gray to Portland and enjoy the interestingly slow, imprecise driving from my fellow Oregonians. How they can drive this badly always amazes me. Coming to a near stop when changing lanes on a f**king bridge with a merge and exit five stories in the air (who designed this!) is insane, but usual here. Still, with no paint loss, I make it to Richard’s.

LOTR: Fate of the Fellowship, my copy, was our game for tonight. Robin, a new player, joined us. Chris also joined. I set up the Pandemic-based game for four players, and we went through the basic setup. We discovered that I was moving too many enemy troops, and that made it easier. The game, I feel, is immersive, and it is also cooperative with the Pandemic-like mechanism that drives the Dark Lord and minions. It is a race to complete various objectives and to send Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom to try to destroy the ring. And while the old War of the Ring board game (and expensive), a two-person game, is immersive and fascinating to play, this new version is a up to five-person game and done in an hour (which might cover the setup time for the other game). I like it and may not return to the other game.

We got lucky, and Frodo got four ring cards on his own. We completed the tasks, and three characters escorted Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom. The ring (represented by five ring cards) was tossed into Mount Doom with no chance of losing hope. We did lose the Shire and barely held the dwarven and elven strongholds in the north. It was fun.

I was home early, we played just one game, and started a small laundry run. As I covered, I finished The Umbrella Academy. I was in bed about midnight; I am, of late, running late. I soon fell asleep. While I cannot remember any dreams, I woke refreshed early, rolled over, and slept until nearer to 8 than 7.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

I rose later, just before sunrise. I watched the dark fade away as I sat in my office (a former bedroom) and began my usual morning, looking out the window. I read (mostly deleting unread) my accumulation of email (and unsubscribe to right-wing stuff that occasionally finds its way to me). I updated my transactions in Quicken and revised those that were mis-assigned or not assigned at all. I doomscroll the CNN.com and New York Times websites. One of the reasons I purchased the NYT is that I like the way they write and put stories together. You can learn by just reading how to write better. Recommended, especailly non-poltical stoires like cooking stories. CNN continues to lock down its content (never well written in my experience), while the NYT is now excelling in on-the-minute updates. CNN is more of a habit than a useful resource.

I must admit that Friday is a blur in my memory, and I wasn’t very well-organized when I experienced it. I will try to compose a narrative.

I recall that I wrote while drinking the coffee I had assembled the night before, Sleep Monk brand (thanks, The Most Rev. Steve and AJ), while I ate a croissant from Paris Baguette that I had sliced to hide that it was two days old. I had stripped the bed and run, for two plus hours, the sanitize washer function. Later, the dryer made quick work of drying as the washer’s spin cycle left the laundry only damp.

I interrupted the writing by calling doctors’ offices and imaging locations, those that accept my insurance, to get my MRI of my brain to check if the tumor is returning or if the stuff they saw was just scar tissue or like unthreatening stuff. I am unsure I really want to invest in another MRI, but if it is terrible news, I have all that IRA money to spend in the next few years (I plan to have none left when I am done). It is extrememly unlikely that it will be bad news. But after three phone calls and stating the obvious a few times, the medical community agreed that they, not me, had something to do. I did get the doctors and imaging places to update my insurance information. I tried to schedule another image; there is a mass in my neck that I would like scanned, but I cannot get through as the phone company says the number is busy. I tried four times all through the day. My doctor is out, and I have not been able to have it moved to another imaging center.

I complete the laundry and my blog at about the same time. I open a can of chicken noodle soup and add more noodles, along with some of the seasoned, crispy, sliced baguette, to the soup. It is good, but I eat it too hot. I shower, dress, and all of that. I do add some extra noodles, and that helps it taste and the texture. I will have to make this someday, and just freeze it and add noodles when reheating.

I feel discombobulated, but my new book arrives via Amazon.com: Love, War, and Diplomacy by Eric Cline. By the end of Friday, I had read 59 pages and had trouble putting the book down. I enjoy his books; he writes well, and the detailed footnotes and bibliography give me confidence in his arguments.

I head to Cedar Hills mall and soon walk through City Home, where I manage to resist a bookcase made from the front of a tuk-tuk (just under $800) or a bar table made from a Vespa. I walked through the store three or four times. In each pass, I find more things that I like or find interesting.

I try to make it through Powell’s Cedar Hills Crossing store without buying anything, but C. S. Forester’s three books of the Hornblower series, which I once owned and read, in a single old volume, gets my $11. I bought the newest copy of Make Magazine and some postcards with the book.

I decided that dinner would not be something I would make at home and headed, after a few thoughts and travelling through the parking lot, to decarli (always in lowercase). There was exactly one seat at their bar, dinner seemed pre-ordained, and I soon was talking to Mary and Charles (I think that was their names), who were enjoying drinks and pizza, and I had a glass of something red and Old World. Meatballs again and still wonderful. I chat with folks and even get a few pages of a book (bringing Eric Cline’s book with me).

(A mixed French wine that I enjoyed)

After paying the bill, getting home, and saying good night to Deborah, I watch more of The Umbrella Academy, but the show is now taking off. This is what I discovered when I first watched it. After a few assembly episodes, the story suddenly becomes binge-worthy material.

I clean up the kitchen and assemble the coffee for Saturday morning. I dress in my PJs and read. It is hard to stop reading, but I am nodding off.

Thanks for reading!

Aside: I forgot to include this picture of Nav in Portland. This is the usual way to move from Highway 5 to Powell!