Author: alohawild

With the time change and the later time for our First United Methodist Church service, I rose leisurely at 7. I made coffee and started on the blog. I did have time to read emails and update Quicken with transactions, texts, and calls, which were excellent distractions, but soon, I was back to writing the daily blog.

I managed to make liberal coffee this morning despite the time change, but today, I grabbed Trader Joe’s certified organic and fairly traded ground coffee and poured that into the French Press. It is dark and bitter, reminding you that it is a corporate product. Still, you can taste the Justice and Compassion for the fair trade certification with a hint, even in a corporate product, of Community. Hope is still there for a better world. In this election week, I recommend some liberal in your cup!

I have a banana with Trader Joe’s seasonal pumpkin spice and pecan oatmeal. Breakfast and the coffee quickly disappear. I am writing fast, but Saturday was a busy day, and it takes time to remember, assemble into a narrative, and edit (often undoing Grammarly’s help).

I am preaching today, and the sermon is already printed, paperclipped, and set in Air Volvo’s Biz class seat. I put it there yesterday, so there would be no chance I would show up without it. Air Volvo is low on gas and has a check engine light, and I dreamed about having an accident while driving and missing important meetings. My friends tell me of their dreams of wish fulfillment—incredible; my dreams express my thirty years as a corporate warrior and possible failures–anxiety I hide that manifests in my dreams.

The light loss depression (Jack reminded me it is really known as SAD, Seasonal affective disorder) and the deep sadness (the feeling of loss of control, the wish to just cry and never stop, and to wish to do nothing but be sad) from yesterday is gone. I believe some light, gaming, and various social interactions (plus beer and good food) cured it for now. This is good as today we will name the saints gone before us; this list includes Eric “Elric” Anderson, Susie Wild, and Rev.Dr. Orville and Mrs. Jean Nilson. My grief could overwhelm me, but I have things to do, like being terrified of giving the sermon!

I wear my pride tie, green sweater vest over a dress shirt, gray-blue LL Bean relaxed pants (still size 40 but barely held up by my belt—a size 38 waits for me in the closet, a tangible manifestation of a goal), and black dress shoes. I wear the hat I travel with, the brown wool hat. I am looking for a taller one, which would be in the 1920s style. The one I wear would never have existed back then, but it still looks normal to our modern sensibilities.

Air Volvo got me to the church on time, even with a surprising amount of slow-moving traffic for a Sunday. I had plenty of time and did not mind the 20 mph in 35 mph zones, but I thought it strange. I arrived as the previous church that shared our facilities, Emmaus Church, finished tearing down. Soon, the podium was in place, and I practiced (I had read through the text viewing it on my computer already) without a mic. I was stumbling over the words, and there were many distractions as First United Methodist started to assemble the usual setup for our service. I was in danger of over-preparing, so I stopped, got some coffee, and waited.

I said many good mornings as folks started to steam in. Paraments were reset to white for All Saints Day (observed).  Many people, and this did not make it easier for me, told me how excited and interested they were to hear my sermon. Oh my!

Aside: The colored cloths are the paraments in the altar area. Each day has specific colors matching the Christian Calendar (following an arcane process best to be looked up then remembered, here), but some change for events such as All Saints Day; white for today. In Western and Christian settings, white means purity and holiness. In contrast, this would closely match red in Eastern and non-Christian settings, with white representing the absence of color, representing death and grief.

The music is For the Saints, a favorite I can even sing. It puts tears in my eyes. A few moments later, it seems only seconds to me, Seth finishes reading my selected Gospel of John 21: 9-14, and soon he is playing the trumpet for Here Come the Saints with some of the words from Cedarmount Kids version with the first round stanza hinting at Lift Every Voice and Sing and the last saying, ‘When our leaders learn to cry,’ which is perfect, I think, for an election week.

I am up and managed to make only a few mistakes and stumble over only a few words. Despite the fear, I kept it friendly and light. If you would like to see the sermon, it is here. Sorry, the video has some sound issues, but my sermon and benediction are clear.

I joined Anne and Wayne for lunch again at Red Robin, and this time, I bought as they had the last couple of times. Among the topics we talked about at lunch were different types of drinks in New Orleans (NOLA), the source for absinthe (not in my sermon but mentioned in my blog), and what a Sazerac Cocktail (here) contains. We learned that our waiter, Carlson, has a twin brother, and we might meet him for Wayne’s planned birthday dinner at Red Lobster. I was hungry and had the two chicken breasts (these are split breasts–meaning two is just one full one) for the lower calory Ensalda Plater. Soon, we headed out, and I returned home, removed my tie and shoes, and rested for a while.

I chatted with a friend on the phone while watching the sun get down earlier today (time change), returned to the kitchen, and started assembling a Red Seafood Jambalaya according to the recipe, with a few changes from the New Orleans School of Cooking. The recipe does not match what Chef Reneé did in my demo class, and I added just a bit of his improvements: cane sugar (a tiny bit) and shrimp boil liquid (also tiny).

I was unhappy with the flavor or texture, but it strongly hints at NOLA’s versions I had while there. The smokey ham I added and cooked to almost burned was excellent (more bacon than ham). I would go for a brown version with no seafood next time with some tomatoes. I would add a second set of trinity to cook with the rice to add to the texture, one of Chef Reneé changes.

I thought the 4-person size was too small, but it is more than I thought. I will have to send some to Corwin! He will add hot sauce to it and enjoy the smoked NOLA flavors.

I watched the rest of a mediocre Kolchak: The Night Stalker, episode four, “The Vampire.” Indeed, it is interesting to watch Kolchak’s lying and tricking people and his description of Hollywood policing in the 1970s. His narrative (as best as I remember it): “They do things differently here than in Chicago. With two suspects arrested, now the detective is looking for evidence at the crime seen.” I am soon disappointed with the ending, but it does have a twist (no spoilers). I have a comic novel on its way and a new T-shirt on new Kolchak adventures. While it is an acquired taste, I still like the old show.

I head to the shower and soon read in bed. There are More Vampire Cookingbook stories and recipes, including a lamb stew recipe I would like to try. The book is almost done; I have only a few stories left. With Kolchak, NOLA vampires, and the rain pounding outside, I ask Amazon’s Echo to play music to sleep by, as I will likely have dark dreams, and there is no reason to wake to strange noises! But I wake to prove hydration and then later at 4ish to leg and foot cramps, which are solved with hydration! F**k! I woke at 5, no longer in pain, to prove I hydrated. Morning comes too soon.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

Going backward, I was home late on this time change day, around 11:20, on a wet night. Air Volvo splashed its way back from Kathleen’s place across Portland, only sliding once in the rain at high speeds as the water collected in a few unexpected places on the highways. There was little local flooding, unlike last year’s ‘rivers of rain,’ the rain seemed to be absorbed and flow away. The rain could be heavy at times, but not the hours of pounding rain that heralds a weather event.

I put on Amazon Echo’s music for sleeping, took a longer warm shower, and made the bed. I left the recently washed sheets to be put on. Nothing matches somehow, but I am trying to care, nope. I seem to have a lighter-colored fitted sheet compared to the pillowcase and top sheet. I’m not sure how that could be. I took three tries to get the fitted sheet on, finally turning it to fit. Next, I read in the luxury of fresh sheets, read more of the Vampire Cookbook, passed by another recipe in the text, and put away the story/cookbook from New Orleans (NOLA). I sleep and pass the whole night in the clean, cool sheets while rain mixes with the background music from Amazon.

Moving to earlier on Saturday and my habit of trying to fit a whole weekend into a single day, I took Air Volvo in the wet to Portland in amazingly slow traffic in Beaverton. With no accidents, construction, light rain, or even school events, Beaverton remembered the week’s traffic and seemed as a group dynamic to drive slowly and pack all the vehicles into small, safe groups. The herding of cars meant it took me twenty minutes to drive a mile in Beaverton, again, even with no construction, accidents, or predators of any form. Some sudden lane changes booted the driver nothing more than a few car lengths, and often, the other lane would move with the newly provided spaces and then gain more, making the move unprofitable and undoubtedly frustrating for the lane-changing driver.

Air Volvo and I were not in a hurry, and I chatted legally on the iPhone while this was ongoing. I now drove onto the highways, which were wet and moving well, though not fast. The emergency vehicles pushing through the traffic blasting and bright in the tunnel was a new experience. There is no shoulder in the tunnel, and the sound is amplified. Yikes!

Soon, I was on the bridges and exited into quiet streets in SE. The puddles are the usual size, and there is no sign of flooding; it is a typical Pacific Northwest (PNW) gray day. I detect sadness and the resistance to do anything; I recognize this as light-loss depression, an issue here in the (PNW), and will be careful to get some full spectrum light now. With the grief and the losses from cancer and brain tumor surgery, I am more emotionally fragile than before.

Aside: My hobby lights are full-spectrum, and I feel better using them. I will likely paint some figures soon, and I feel better as I have completed something and sat under full-spectrum light for hours. It is all good for me (and I see the colors in pure light), but it is essential to notice, check, and adjust. While writing this, dear reader, I have more light turned towards me, and I feel better.

I pulled into Lucky Labrador’s parking lot, which was full, but a car pulled out, and Air Volvo was happy to take their place and not to be parked on the streets of Portland. It is doubtful that something would happen in this wet, but I don’t need another issue with Air Volvo. The check engine light is back again. F**k. Ignored!

The place is busy this Saturday in the mid-afternoon. Three sets of gamers are playing simple to insanely complex board and card games. There are various friendly meetings with beer and appetizers—a fun and happy crowd. I grab a few tables for my board game and laptop. I take off my coat and hat but keep my Nike Manchester United scarf (quite old, as Nike has not had ManU in years).

I brought Brass: Birmingham because I don’t know how to play this more popular version of the older game Brass. I can play it harder and less loved (but I like it better). Brass: Lancashire. This version is the highest-rated game on Boardgames Geek’s list. I get a pilsner (remembering Octoberfest) and a bowl of peanuts (this is not the place for peanut allergy!) and soon feel better from the beer, peanuts, and just doing something. I slowly set up Brass: Birmingham for two players. While I brought gaming poker chips, I instead used the cardboard coin money as I wanted to try everything as is.

The blahs fade as I enjoy the peanuts and beer and start to see the game forming. A call from a friend also lightens my mood. Soon, I will have the whole board, covering the table itself, ready for play. I am again tempted by depression to stop, but then play the first turn, and soon I am enjoying the game. I plan only to play the first era to learn the game, but I realize it is fun to get the mechanics to work, and I can see while players like this game, I miss the extra layers in Lancashire, but your focus is better in Birmingham, I realize. It is an excellent, though unfriendly and limited resource game as every move removes options from the game. I order my favorite there, a BLT sandwich and another beer, Golfer (light in alcohol but tastes like a pilsner), and soon pack away an unfinished two-person game. I head to Richard’s house, only ten minutes away.

(This is me crashing out in the end game. I play yellow, and my board is incomplete–you can see the other player’s boards are full; my resources on the round disk are low, and I have cured three patients).

The rain is not heavy, and the puddles are not overflowing. I park and walk into Richard’s finished basement, his inner sanctum of game-playing, and meet him and Lauren for a board game of Unconscious Mind. Kathleen will soon join us. Richard does his teaching for Kathleen, and I follow along to see if I missed anything last time. She has many questions, and soon, we are playing. The game is complex, with rules that are not always clear from the structure. Richard has to clarify some rules, watches our play, and helps as Kathleen and I get confused a few times. Lauren has a few moments, with many plays now, and with the rules, too. It is a difficult game to learn, but I like it. One mistake was made but noticed too late, one I made previously, now known as “Michael’s mistake,” but I did not make it this time.

This is resource management and worker placement, with goals and building represented in curing patients. I thought the art and flow of the game were beautiful, though complex. I believe some of our difficulties could have been solved with some component restructuring, but it still works for me. While coming in last (still my best score, not breaking 100), I enjoyed the play and the game. My last turns were not engaging as I had crashed into the end game without enough resources to finish well–my mistake of burning through resources first and building second–an easy mistake and one I often make as I learn a game.

Richard ran away with the game (his best score, over two hundred), with Lauren and Kathleen close at over 100. I did lead for a while and managed to do every part of the game this time. I am learning, but I don’t understand games as fast as Kathleen, but there is always next time.

Dear reader, Unconscious Mind is recommended; the Kickstarter version is lovely. However, be warned that this game was challenging for me to play, and the rules were manifold. The full version, available only on the secondary market, is about $220 and has high shipping costs.

Returning to the start of Saturday, I rose about 7 and started writing the blog, finding coffee from last night still in the pot. I had microwaved-second-heating liberal coffee for today. The coffee, though the caffeine works, is a bit flat. I had ham with my banana and coffee. I spent the morning writing the blog and had some excellent distractions on calls and texts. I managed to finish the blog and post it before 11. I ate the salad I made days ago, but it has languished ignored in the frig. I added pickled beets, blue cheese, and croutons with ranch dressing. I ate it while watching YouTube Battleship New Jersey and ShipHappens videos.

The sadness started to build; not chatting or texting could bring me out of the darkness. I am unsure what is wrong until I see how dark it is. I have the light issue–something new. F**k. Off to Portland to do something and to ‘woke’ up.

And that takes me full circle. Thanks for reading!

 

I rose early as I could not sleep and would not roll over again and again. I found my slippers and my robe; the house was an orchid night-friendly 66F (19C) and not uncomfortable with a robe. Soon, liberal coffee was made, and the taste of Justice, Compassion, and Community flavored my blog and the revisions of my sermon for Sunday.

Writing the blog was harder today as I had much on my mind, including getting to Eric “Elric” Anderson’s memorial in Michigan. Flights have been arranged, and a recovery day from travel for this trip is now part of the plan. I also re-joined Costco (I let my membership go during the pandemic) and used their travel services to reduce the cost of a rental car (thanks, Deborah, for that idea). I used Expedia for flights and hotels, with one hotel being almost paid for by my accumulated points and status. As we started into the holidays, the flight was about $400 each way for a cheap seat. There are cheaper discount airlines, but I took Delta instead and a direct flight. I will fly to Detroit this time as the extra $100 bucks and three hours to fly to Lansing connecting from Detroit (DTW) or Chicago (ORD) makes little sense to me in the winter. I will either make it to Detroit/PDX or not (the name for Portland International Airport is sensibly the call letter: PDX). I have also planned a day for a missed flight (or a recovery day if I make it). I will leave around midnight from PDX on 13 Nov 2024, get a car in Detroit the following day, and enjoy the drive to East Lansing. I return on 20 Nov 2024 from DTW, arriving late in PDX (the name for Portland International Airport).

While taking a short thinking break on the blog, I edited and updated the sermon text. When I write, I am not all steam-of-consciousness; I stop and start as I try to assemble events out of the mish-mash that is my memory of the previous day (for example, it has taken me an hour to remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, ham).  While I make a living in computers, my mind is not the usual perfect recall I envy of my fellow technologists, but instead a creative mass of lost connections that suddenly reconnect in strange ways. It makes me innovative but forgetful and easily distracted into rabbit holes. But I often find something in those darn rabbit holes.

Yesterday, I bought a spiral-cut ham (I prefer not to slice hams) and had a few slices for breakfast. While trying to avoid overprocessed food, I was missing ham. This one cost extra, too, as it is smoked. It is perfect for the Jamabalya, and I hope to make it this weekend using the New Orleans School of Cooking recipe. I had the ham with a banana (I am still low on potassium).

I did more writing and revising. Getting something polished takes hours of work, and I tried not to add but to improve clarity. It is so easy to bloat the text now that I am editing. I did drop some words.

Lunch will likely require some cooking, and I decided it would be a good day to let someone else cook. I head to the Mexican place across from The 649, Tapatio: Mexican Restaurant, and my waiter remembers me. It has been a while, and I explain that nothing they have will not put weight on me—except I order the soup. No beer, just iced tea and soup.

I talked to the waiter; his son had married into a Jewish family and was living in Israel and had to run from the war. They are safe now and living in California, and my waiter is a proud grandpa who can now drive and see his kids and grandkids. All safe and only ten hours away by car. A happy ending!

Next, after paying and ignoring the treat supplied with the check, I head to The 649 and order a single beer and pay. Crystal was happy to see me, as she, too, was missing me. I have a beer, chat with her about my trips to Chicago and NOLA, and show her the video of me cooking. I drink the beer slowly, order my rental car, and organize my trip to Michigan more. I called Linda, my sister, and told her of the revised dates and possible dinner plans with her and her family on Thursday.

I return home in Air Volvo, and Corwin soon drops by. I help him with insurance, and we get him set up with Allstate and vastly cheaper coverage for his truck. He is now paying 50% of his previous cost and has started a relationship with a local office for insurance; having humans interested in you as a customer to talk to is so much better when it comes to insurance.

I cook spatchcocked chicken with lemon and seasoning from Trader Joe’s, which you just bake for about an hour. I make mashed potatoes with the skins on, and wilt steamed green beans (frozen and from Trader Joe’s) in butter, fresh garlic, salt, and almond slices in a frying pan. It is good, and there are leftovers. I split the leftovers with Corwin. Corwin did the dishes and then headed out. He walked home, hoping soon to have insurance.

I read until tired, a few hours actually, and got through three more stories in the Vampire Cookbook. Apparently, they serve a rare (bloody) steak at the Vampire Café (just flipped over a few times on a hot iron skillet), not something I would usually go for. The Friday laundry is done but has not been put away yet.

I turn on the Amazon sleeping music channel to drown out the gutter noise and the funny creaking the house has started to make this winter. With one noise, repeating every hour or so loud enough to wake me. The music helps, and I sleep until 5, when I receive a text, fall back to sleep, and then have an anxiety-based dream since I did not wake up enough to read it. Poo. Also, the sermon does not reduce my anxiety. I wake from the dream with my heart rate a bit higher, but I am fine.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

It is not my place to tell other people’s stories, but this story is now on the Internet, and I feel comfortable providing a link. Eric “Elric” Anderson unexpectedly passed away last week, and I plan to fly to Michigan for his service on 16 November @ 11AM in Laingsburg, Michigan. Please see the link here.

“Elric” was my friend since 5th grade. He was one grade higher than me, and we learned how to play Dungeons and Dragons together. He would laugh often and tell terrible jokes. I usually find myself when writing stopping and thinking about how would “Elric” say or write this. “Elric” is charging ahead now, laughing and calling us to join him in the next adventure.

Returning to the narrative, Halloween started with me rising early with my alarm at 7 and eventually heading it. I missed the off button this time, and it went off again as I debated whether I was asleep again. I was. I rose on the second alarm.

It was Halloween, and I wanted to finish the sermon for Sunday today. I got to writing with only a few distractions, some excellent, and avoided reading the news about the election, war, and even new recipes. Focus was required today!

The coffee was made from Equal Exchange French Roast, which is my last bag. I picked up more fair-exchange-certified coffee and will try a few other brands. I have a croissant and a banana to go with my coffee. While rushed, I noticed the flavors of Justice, Compassion, and Community in my cup, and Hope soon rose to enter the world again.

The blog took much of the morning with a few breaks to update the sermon with a few words, but mostly editing and dropping wooden language, which often slips into my writing. Also, Grammarly found some exciting ways to ruin my flow of words. Those were reversed.

I managed to publish the blog, but it did have three (or more) typos I saw later. One must be brave enough to publish with faults when writing a blog daily. It is a courageous act to push ‘Publish.’ Not every time do I find all the mistakes, especially on a rushed day. So, please forgive me when you wince when reading. No promises not to error again, and Grammarly adds a certain level of error that is difficult to prevent–I press the ‘accept’ button a lot less now.

I headed this time to McMinnamen’s Cedar Hill Crossing Pub. Scott suggested a change now that it was cold and wet. The Pub has a fire in the winter and feels quite homey even though it is a recent addition. Scott and I got a table near the fire. Tyler suggested that when texting details of “Elric’s” service, I drink a stout for him in memory of “Elric.” I ordered their Terminator Stout. Scott has an Impossible paddy in his burger, and I agreed that it was an excellent idea (mine was a Captain Neon burger with bacon and blue cheese, which did get a raised eyebrow). It was good.

Scott and I talked about travel and plans for Thanksgiving. I am joining Scott and his friends for Thanksgiving. We also talked about investments, and Scott thinks it is better to get a mix of bonds and equities, with the bonds creating earnings, so there is always a payment in the structure—something to fund his future withdrawals. He also does not want to be involved in stock picking as he thinks he would enjoy other things instead of watching the markets. Scott and I enjoy lunch, beer, and chatting. Scott was getting some REI waterproof shoes, something I may need to do.

I returned home via Safeway. There, I bought candy for trick-or-treaters and some meats to cook for jambalaya, which I want to try soon, according to the New Orleans School of Cooking recipe. I also finally remembered to get toothpaste. Yay! A spiral-cut ham was not on special, but at least some were for sale (an item that had disappeared from the summer). I bought the higher-quality smoked ham.

With all my goodies, I headed home. I put them away and got out some limited Halloween decorations. I found my yelling skeleton, a projector of a haunted house, and some blinking lights that I have lost for years and found in my office boxes. The few, about four groups, in various looks, primarily bright. My skeleton, a plastic foot-tall guy calling out for help from his cage, fascinated the younger kids. Older kids and former kids were focused on handfuls of Snickers and Almond Joy, all ‘fun’-sized and not the yelling skeleton. I called for the older folks holding back to come forward and grab some of the bounty offered. I already had five! I wanted none to remain.

I wrote my sermon between candy events, with the skeleton calling out when more folks arrived. Corwin showed up and finished off the pizza—the usual Papa Murphy’s Pumpkin-shaped Halloween pizza with cookie dough. Corwin soon left, happy to visit, have some candy, get a jar of pasta sauce I have spare, and grab some other groceries I always grab for him. I finished the cookies and had a few.

I returned to writing and finished the first draft of the sermon. More editing and some updates will follow, but it was completed on Thursday. I decided it was time for a break and read more Vampire Cookbook stories.

Soon, the rains are pouring down outside. Fall/Winter has started. I put on sleeping music from Amazon’s Echo device and soon slept. Vampire cooks, AI, and other distractions haunt my forgotten dreams.

Thanks for reading!

Wednesday started with me sleeping until 7ish and knowing I would write all day. And for the most part, I did get much writing completed. I resist many of Grammarly’s suggestions but somehow misspelled Davy Jones’ Locker (thanks, Deborah). Artificial Intelligence (AI) is undoubtedly artificial, but I wonder if we should use another word to describe it when using ‘intelligence’! Maybe our-current-untested-pattern-matching-algorithm (OCUMA) is likely not going anywhere with their marketing department.

Putting away my concerns about typos and wooden wording from the previous day, I fought my way through and spent much of the morning writing the blog. I delayed dressing and made lunch, a kid’s meal of fish sticks and tater tots (sprinkled with Tony’s Chachere’s Orginal Creole Seasoning. One has to be careful with Tony’s as it contains 5%+ salt; don’t add more salt if using it without letting it cook in. It was excellent on the tater tots.

I had tarter sauce, which is soon expiring, with the fish and tater tots, which were all baked. I had strawberries from the 185th for my dessert—likely the last of the regular crop. My weight is still stable at 230. Someday, I will break into the 220s again!

Finally getting dressed, I return to my computer and more writing. The sermon starts to form. It has taken me weeks to think this through, and now the words flow as patterns and colors in my mind. I have thought of all these words before, but now they appear and seem better and more organized than I expected. While interesting to me, I ignore some paths that will not add to my message or the alignment to cooking, New Orleans (NOLA), or AI.

Aside: Grammarly has a new update that offers to replace my paragraphs with its version with a simple acceptance. Then, Grammarly’s usual editing notices the change and offers to re-edit and return it to what I had to begin with. While this is quite amusing, it is a time-sink. Also, to reject its correction, I have to drop down on options and then reject. Hmmm.

I decided on tip and crackers for dinner as the lunch was heavy. I stopped about 4ish on the writing with the sermon, now 1400 words, and 3/4 of the first draft is done (and much of the editing is done as I write and fight Grammarly). I read more of the Vampire Cookbook and realized that tomorrow is Halloween, and I have no candy or light decorations. Poo. I will have to rise and focus (having an excellent distraction today) and be early to make my day work.

Dondrea reminds me (!) that I have lunch with Scott as it is Thursday (I am such an air-head now). I rest briefly and then head to First United Methodist Church. The traffic was light, but the Oregon had left the mist behind, and it was wet and raining. Local flooding was back, with large puddles everywhere and the leaves melting off the trees. I splashed and drove across Beaverton and was just a few minutes early. My coat was still in the car, and I grabbed an umbrella; it’s not that accepted in Oregon, but it was still early. In the winter, we wear hats and coats and pretend we are expected to be soaked. Eventually, we will love the rain again and soon not even notice it (much).

I discovered that my new shoes are not waterproof; I must purchase an alternative soon. My sweater was a poor choice for the wind and sideways rain. The barista saw me with the umbrella and sweater and acknowledged that neither was ready for a winter day. I get a mocha and walk it back from the local coffee shop to the church.

Z and Dondrea appear, and Z and I decide on the board game Istanbul today. I grab and put on my coat, always in the cargo hold once the leaves start to change, and now I feel warm. Andrew is also there, and we will soon set up the game with the Mocha and Baksheesh add-on for three. Z remembers most of the rules; Andrew soon needs no help as he remembers it from our last play. This is an efficiency-styled game where the players collect and invest resources to get the best and quickest payoff (rubies in the game). The Mocha and Baksheesh add-on creates new options and complexity. Z heavily invests in these new strategies and manages to win the first game; we had to stop early to let Andrew sing in the choir practice (his wife plays in the Praise Band that practices first).

(The strange device on the table is used to bleed air out of the church’s hot water heating system; Jack took the picture and was working on the heating).

Andrew played a conventional game and blocked me repeatedly, and Z bounced me off of Andrew, too. With just a bit more luck, that strategy would have worked. I expect Andrew to take us next time!

We have time for two more fast two-person games. Z continues to call out her “evil plans” and tries to block me a few times while achieving her goals. This is impressive, and she blocked me in the first game. However, my goals are more complex and varied in the second game, and I soon score the game-stopping ruby, but Z matches me. I have a pile of cash left, so I win on the tie-breaker (Z winning the last tie-breaker).

There is enough time for one more game. Z flies ahead and stays there on some lucky combinations. Z’s “evil plans” are working in this game, and while Z has not mastered the evil laugh, I expect it soon. I am crushed by one ruby and lose to her master plan. Excellent. Next time. Three games, two won by Z. Z is delighted.

Istanbul is a unique and complex game to learn. I would recommend it, but make sure someone can teach you or watch a few videos on how to play. It is an excellent game and plays well, following the extra rules for two players in the manual (!) for two or more.

When I returned home, I had some more crackers and dip and watched the new episodes (7 and 8) of “The Legends of Vox Machina,” but I only started the next episode. I was surprised by the storyline direction (no spoilers) and decided to put off more until another day.

Setting the alarm to rise and get going sooner on Thursday, I showered and dressed in PJs, the red plaid making me look like a Scottish nightmare, and soon turned off the light. I only flipped through a few books on drink recipes for absinthe. I turned off the light nearer to 11 than 10 and slept through the night.

Thanks for reading.