Author: alohawild

I rose later on Sunday, with my alarm waking me at 6:30 and my realization that church service had moved to 11 and I could roll over, but I did rise before 7 and, with the orchids reveling in the cold 66F (19C) morning, got my robe and started writing the blog. I also found the coffee and ended another bag of Equal Exchange French Roast by dumping it in the French Press. This produced an extra dark mix and was full of liberal. I looked in the French press, and equity and fairness were floating on the surface. Further down, there is a hint of justice, compassion, and goodness for the community. There was no hint in my brew of demanding things or acquisitions, and it certainly was not about what I feared or wanted changes to improve my finances. There was no inward focus in this cup of joe. I was having a cup of strong coffee flavored with hope for all of us, “We the People.”

I wrote the blog in the early morning with coffee and a small bowl of cold baked beans left over from yesterday’s lunch. I managed to recall most of Saturday and the game I played. I created a narrative only once or twice, discovering something I missed. I find that my mind, knowing that today was the anniversary of Susie’s death, distracts me with something else to think about. I am unusually interested in what I want to wear, and thoughts about AI fill my mind, not sad thoughts about missing Susie or memories of her passing. I know it is me trying to protect myself and let my mind drift.

I finished the blog and dressed for church, selecting the green sweater vest, pride tie, and Cole Hann dress shoes with dark socks. The shirt is grey with a button-down collar from L.L. Bean. I find their shirts wear well, and the permanent press shirts, if removed from the dryer while warm, will require no ironing and look perfect every time. My cotton blend pants are also from L.L. Bean and also are permanent press. My belt is on the last hole, and my pants are starting to fit less and less; I have no complaints about that.

I remembered loading the pumpkin muffins I made the night before in Air Volvo, and the flowers I bought yesterday still looked good in the cargo hold. The passage to Beaverton Old Town is without issue, and there is no traffic on Sunday mornings. I am too early, and the previous worship service is still in the breaking down process, and folks are chatting. I stay out of the way and sit until the Emmaus church is finished and our folks for First United Methodist, Beaverton, begin their set-up. I delivered the muffins to the kitchen and returned for the service.

I had coffee and watched Jack refill the oil in the candles (these are oil lamps in the shape of candle sticks), and I took the lighter and lit them. As the senior usher, I knew the ritual and walked calmly down the center with the lighter in front of me, stepping up, pausing, and lighting the right and left with a respectful pause. I then went and turned on the cross. I received comments about getting a gold star, and that next time, I should wear a robe from my less-than-helpful and smirking Methodists. These comments remembered of all the acolytes that came before, a happy memory.

I sat through the rest of the service. The hymns were easy again, and I found my voice to sing them. Only once did I get the words wrong, and with the words displayed, I did not get on the wrong verse or song today. I am not someone you should follow when singing!

Pastor Ken picked the letter from Paul, the second one to Corinthians, chapter four. This is Paul at his usual unfriendly and directness, and Andrew, our liturgist today, managed to make it sound almost friendly, using his lawyer superpowers. Ken focused on Paul’s message about the words and teaching of Jesus to be a treasure inside us, the plain jars of this world, and not the stars-powered media-supported influencers that get the attention now and even in cosmopolitan Corinth of two thousand years ago. We will always disappoint as we are not the focus, nor should we try to be. We follow Jesus; we don’t take Jesus with us like Jesus was some expensive shoes worn by a social media influencer, but we go where Jesus goes.

Later, I spoke to Michael and asked him what he thought of the use of words of jars and veiled in the text of 2 Corinthian. We know that old scripture was buried in caves as it was still holy even when worn and needing to be retired (this is why we have the Dead Sea scrolls and other text). We also know that amphoras–cheap clay jars set in ships without a base–were used to ship goods in ancient times, the containers or milk carts of ancient days. Plain container filled with delicious goods and wines, with Corinth being a significant trading post, was this Paul’s idea? I also asked Michael to think about what the usage of veiled is connected to. Some fun in Greek and research, Michael’s fav.

The potluck included a main dish: BBQ beef on buns from the church. I had a few samples of the other items and the BBQ beef. I wanted just enough to cut my hunger as dinner promised to be heavy tonight. I left early before the cake was served.

I boarded Air Volvo, drove to Johnson’s home, and dropped off flowers. Cory, a good friend for years and a brilliant Dungeons and Dragons player, passed away a few days before Susie last year. I learned they had another loss this week, and they were happy to see me and enjoyed the flowers.

I headed to Barnes and Noble to purchase my usual magazines. I spent most of the afternoon just relaxing, chatting, and reading. With a copy of “Fine Modeler” and a UK-based electronic periodical, Air Volvo returned me to the Volvo Cave. I rested until about 5.

Air Volvo took me to BJ’s Brewhouse, and I arranged to have a drink at the bar while I waited for the rest of the folks to show up. Mo was working tonight, but we had Mo arrange Courtney as our waiter (Mo was filling in for someone—she does not usually work Sundays) and stayed with the plan. Mariah joined me at the bar, and Dondrea and Z soon appeared. We were seated and met Courtney, and we had tables and chairs arranged for six.

Deborah sent me a photo of a drink in honor of Susie while I was at the bar. I am sure, dear reader, many of you remembered Susie with a drink or a happy thought. Thank you all.

During dinner, we had many toasts to Susie and good friends.

I ordered some appetizers. And Orange marmalade calamari was soon before us. Z’s first encounter with this food with tentacles. Later, I ordered pot stickers, fried, not grilled, followed (both suggestions from Mo and heartily endorsed by Courtney). Z found Jambalaya on the menu and decided to try that–most of it disappeared inside Z. Dondrea and I both went with the Midwest-style prime rib, giant slices, baked potato and asparagus, and a salad. Mariah and Corwin (who was late, and Courtney accepted the role of shaming him for being late with a smile) both went with the double pork chop. We told a few funny stories about Susie and kept the dinner happy and lively. The booze helped (Z was full of sugar), and Courtney was perfect. Dessert, coming with most meals, was shared.

Sober and tired, I headed home as the party broke up. I paid the bill for everyone. One of the starting conditions was not to look at the price and order what you wanted. Everyone was happy, fed, and had another good memory for a sad day. A perfect ending for the day.

When I returned home, it was too early to head to bed, so I watched another episode of “Slow Horses”–this season is quite good and less dark. I showered and put on my PJs, read New Orleans history and a reprint from 1912, a recently made guidebook, and checked a 1927 atlas (yes, I have that for the Call of Cthulhu play). I plan to visit the Storytown sites (the NOLA official and regulated red light district before WW1); I have read that only one building is left. This is not in the French Quarter (filled with Spanish architecture after the French town burned, but why quibble). More to follow on that when I am there.

Sleep comes, but I wake up often and later have leg cramps and disturbing dreams. I do manage to sleep enough, but I thought for a while I would rise at 3ish, as happens some nights. I was relieved to wake up today, Monday, after 7.

Thanks for reading!

 

Saturday started with me waking at 7ish, rising, and beginning to write the blog. Coffee was my drug of choice, and I needed the caffeine. I must have been partying with Morpheus; focus and writing were difficult Saturday morning. Also, the sneezing was endless, and the sun rose on another dry and sunny day. The fallen pollen has started, and the air-cleaning rain and Oregon Mist will not begin until Wednesday.

I could not get enough liberal coffee this morning, so I added water to the French press. The bitterness of liberal coffee reminds you that so much can be better and that there is much to do. Hope is in my cup, too—hope that we will overcome injustice and poverty and that people will invest in making a better world, not someday–today. Try some liberal coffee; there is delicious and cheerful hope in there!

Stepping off the soap box, I continued to write, read emails, and read the news (focusing on the war in the Middle East and political news). I read yesterday that Harris was up in the political polls (the news today is that Harris is down in the different polls). I read that more Nobel prizes were awarded to the AI community, which is excellent.

Lunch is reheated ribs from BJs Brewhouse with the extra sauce supplied by my waiter, Mo, poured on them. I opened a can of baked beans to go with them, thinking I needed some cole slaw to go with this, too, but that will have to be just a thought. And while I thought I was not that hungry and that I would leave a few ribs, only some beans were put back in the frig. I remember Susie eating ribs while I dined; she loved them.

I dressed, and soon, I took Air Volvo to Big River coffee with the plan to write some code. I do manage some of that—just reading and understanding examples. I was mostly out of focus and looked at some travel options, texted, and chatted. I watched a video on how to play today’s game, Andromeda’s Edge.  Still, it was an enjoyable afternoon.

Time was plentiful, and then was not. I return home and have a quick dinner of leftover pasta and sausage via the microwave. Traffic on Saturday always surprises, and I crawl across Beaverton and Portland, finally arriving at the Safeway and getting more goodies for Richard’s gaming group (pretzels do not have oil and thus cannot damage a board game, and the same goes for Pringles). I add some travel mix of nuts and dried fruit with a low risk of damaging a board game. Richard is there early, too (he often goes for a walk before the game), and he invites me in. He does a teach, but the video covered the game well.

Chris joined us, and we played a three-person game. This is a reimplementation (with improvements) of the older and loved Everdale board game to a SciFi setting. Well-loved by some, I am not a fan, and this older game is in my “yes, I will play it if you bring it” category of board games. This reskinning to SciFi and rebalancing and rule fixing has produced an excellent new game. Richard’s copy was the all-in Kickstarter version and now sells for about $250, maybe with shipping, and has lovely plastic and wooden bits. The game was surprisingly efficient, and I found that my turn was easy to plan and understand what was happening. Richard slammed into Chris and me, and I soon lost every battle, but I had a pile of cards that had me retrieve my ships and suddenly recover and add more capabilities in the first turn, returning me to full power and better. Richard continued to attack and slam into us; he was unstoppable. But I still liked it and certainly enjoyed it better than Everdale. When preparing to play, I had read that Everdale owners were now only playing Andromeda’s Edge. Our game played fast and was done in two hours, even with me requesting clarification and help occasionally. Expecting to score at the bottom, I matched Chris’s score, 104, and we were both amazed by Richard’s 180+ score. A good showing for me in a first-time play.

The game is well-balanced, full of choices, and multiple-focused play. There is not one good path or a few promising paths like many games, and no part of the various tracks needs to be forgotten. Combat advantages can be mitigated by cards that are not difficult to obtain to the point that when I received a hand of cards, Richard refused to attack my ships (wisely).

I forgot my hat at Richard’s and will have to retrieve it before I head to New Orleans on Wednesday.

I look forward to playing it again, and I might swallow the price and order a copy, thinking Z and others might enjoy it. I am finding these re-implementation games to be an excellent investment.

I barely remember the trip back to Air Volvo; it was uneventful. I had time to make muffins from a pumpkin mix I got on my last visit to Trader Joe’s. I made 15 (not 16!) muffins. While waiting for the muffins, I enjoyed “Slow Horses” season three (three new episodes have been released since my last viewing). With the muffins cooling and looking well and cooked, next was a shower and PJs. I finished the night listening to more of The War of Worlds with a favorite, “There must be something to live for. There must be something even worth dying for” song. I was singing along to that one. With Progressive Rock filling my mind, I found sleep taking over and did not resist. I slept through with all my dreams forgotten, but there are hints of the red planet in my mind from dreams.

Thanks for reading!

Today, my mind played games with me, and I kept forgetting things and doing things out of order. Your subconscious knows it will not be a good day to remember things when there is pain, and it tries to steer you away from them. Susie left us last year on this same day of the week, and while the date is Sunday, Susie left us on this Friday last year. There are blogs for those days if you, dear reader, want to page back just over 360 or so days ago, but here is the link to the story of a year ago: Today 13Oct2023 Susie’s Passing. I have not gone back a year in the blog and read it, but I remember writing it and what it says; I will remember until I don’t remember anything anymore.

But my mind was trying to protect me, and I wrote and enjoyed writing the blog. Dear reader, I appreciate knowing that these words will at least be read by some and enjoyed. Thank you, reader!

But, enough tears on a lovely, sunny, cold morning here in Oregon. The rains have abated, and we will have chilly mornings and warm afternoons for the next days as the leaves turn and fall (and are not melted off the trees by the rains into a sticky mess). We might even enjoy raking the leaves this year. Bring on the cider, donuts, Halloween parties, and haunted houses! Remember, the time change in the USA is after trick-or-treat!

Finally returning to Friday’s narrative, I rose early, around 6, made liberal coffee, and started to write. My writing wandered a bit, but I managed to retell the story of Thursday and complete and publish the blog by 11ish. I made breakfast to go with brightness in my coffee cup, liberal. I fried bacon strips, made without pink salt, and then in the hot bacon drippings, I poured two eggs. I break the eggs into a small bowl, as I am not good with eggs, and slide the eggs into the hot grease. With care, I slosh the eggs around in the hot bacon fat and finish them with a flip for over-easy eggs. I popped them out soon and did not overcook the yokes; they ran golden on the plate. I was out of sequence and made toast last, but everything was hot when it landed on the table. Delicious.

Again, this was my mind, having me cook and write and avoid connecting with the dates and sad moments. Do things that are complex enough to distract you, and I did. I cooked breakfast, dressed, and then made a huge lunch that would be leftovers for the rest of the week. Pasta with sweet Italian sausage and sauce from a jar was soon assembled and enjoyed.

I remember, after a while, boarding Air Volvo and heading to hummingbird house by way of Safeway. At Safeway, I bought flowers; they have the best flowers and decent prices, and they cross Beaverton following a familiar path. I arrived at the hummingbird house, where Jennifer and Luis were enjoying the sleep afternoon and the start of making dinner. We remember today and Susie. The flowers are accepted and arranged; I always bring flowers, usually two sets. One for Susie’s room and one for the shared living area. Susie would see flowers from me everywhere she went at hummingbird house. We spent time together, and there were smiles as we shared a few stories.

Aside: Here is the website for the hummingbird house.

I returned home, and then Air Volvo departed for BJ’s Brewhouse. There, now fitting in a booth (a new experience for me), I took the last seat in the bar area. Mo was my waiter, and I had Bourbon and Ginger, Wild Turkey, to remember Susie. I ordered the dinner I would usually take back to Susie and Corwin at The Volvo cave: Full Rack of Ribs. Susie would often just want to rest and watch M.A.S.H. instead of going out, and Corwin would rise when the sunset and frequently resembled undead. I would have dinner alone, watch football, talk to the waiter, and bring them an excellent dinner they could eat at their convenience. They would split the rack at BJs, and Corwin soon learned (there was some yelling) not to eat the second rack without permission. Susie often left a rib for later, and Corwin soon discovered it was unwise to eat that. I ordered ribs and will have them for Saturday’s lunch; maybe I’ll leave one for a later snack. Mo got me a reservation at BJ for Sunday night. She might visit for a drink to remember Susie.

I was sad and depressed in the evening and found it hard to rise out of the darkness. I finally turned on the lights, did some laundry and dishes, and watched more of “Vox Machina,” an excellent animated series based on Dungeons and Dragons and a comic book. It uses ‘f**k’ more like the word ‘very’ and contains some adult content, but it is light and fun. Recommended. It reminds me of many of my role-playing game experiences.

Feeling better, the darkness is gone, but the sadness remains. I shower and put on my PJs. I am not ready to sleep and go for something in the back of my mind; I ask Amazon Echo to play the War of the Worlds album from the Progressive Rock Music era of the 1970s and 80s. I enjoy the first part and the best section and stop it at the Thunderchild, and with Progressive vibes, I soon sleep the night through.

Thanks for reading!

I rose late for my busy morning and started writing more and more. Sometimes, it is just fun to think and share and know that someone, you dear reader, will likely read it, or at least skim it. I went on (and on and on) about my AI programming on Thursday and our game of Concordia. I had time for coffee (liberal), oatmeal (pumpkin with pecans), and peaches from a can. The writing is not a burden but more of a friendly chat (like this).

I was frustrated with my weight, which had remained unchanged for two months or more at 234 pounds, with occasional increases to 238 and then a reversed return to 234. Recently, I noticed some of my clothing was loose, and my new pants fit better. I refused to look for two weeks. I lost six pounds and finally broke into the 220s with 228 pounds. I know that many people struggle with weight loss, and I seem to lose weight easier than most. My secret to this magical loss is brain surgery, a history of overeating from stress, and cancer with chemo. It’s not a weight loss plan I would recommend. I have also increased my excising by traveling and walking instead of a gym membership, coaches, various equipment, exercise shoes, and apparel. I think travel is cheaper.

While I like my coffee “black as death” or “dark like my soul,” I put too much coffee in the French press, with more than an inch of coffee grounds floating in the device. I could feel the coffee! Yes, liberal-empowered writing all morning!

I wrote all morning and finally finished the blog around 11. I had been texting, reading, and updating Quicken while writing. I started late and finished the same way. I was still in my pajamas when Scott sent a note that he was just leaving. Oops. It is Thursday, and Scott and I have lunch at about 11:45. I rush, clean up, shave, and head out dressed and arrive just after noon at Elephant’s Delicatessen at Cedar Hills Crossing in Beaverton. Scott quipped, “Did I reach you while still in your PJ?” Yes, he did.

Lunch was a cherry seltzer and a tuna melt sandwich; Scott had BLT. We talked about my travels and Scott’s plans. Scott related his experience giving a tour at Nike WHQ and how he saw many folks randomly. We meet every week or so (with breaks for trips and events), and I listen to Scott and update him on items he read about in the blog. Scott is headed to a beach to celebrate 25 years of marriage next week, and I will be, assuming there are no new storms–none on the maps, in New Orleans next week (NOLA).

Scott heads out in his red jeep while I board Air Volvo, and we head separate ways. I return to the Volvo Cave and return to coding for a few minutes. I update my calendar and have a new plan to check my calendar every morning.

The afternoon is a blur with calls and cooking sausages for Friday’s lunch. I finish watching the next episode of “Only Murders in the Building.” I was not disappointed, and they managed to mix over-the-top, a crime show and a comedy without losing a thread or bogging down, even with a pile of new characters. Excellent.

I head early to McMenamins Pub at Cedar Hills Crossing. Becka will be our server, and we have ten chairs arranged on tables in the airport room. The room remembers the Bernard Airport that once existed in the same area. With a few adjustments, we were comfortable and soon had eight and ten people, and everyone was plowed with beer, liquor, and food as required.

Our subject, often lost in the joy of our first meeting in person for the Theology Pub since the pandemic, was Halloween and whether it was OK for Christians to celebrate the spooky trick-or-treating. Michael (not me, but the young guy with the beard) was concerned that we were outside the lines of good things, but most of us enjoyed the practice and thought it a great time to let children have some control that required them to get outside and do something. We all shared our positive memories but did include some mischief that Dondrea suggested would now get people arrested. There is a liberal pushback, which Dondrea surprised us with, that there is a question of equity and peer pressure with Halloween getting it shut down in some schools and areas. We learned that some families cannot afford to participate, and others should be able to decline without impacting their children, and this may be a reason to dispense with trick-or-treating. Ted and Aggy joined us, but I had not seen them since before the pandemic.

We enjoyed the discussion about Halloween, which seems to be a question about what is good and evil, which colors your direction toward trick-or-treating. If you see the world as full of darkness, Halloween’s connection to horror is disturbing and should be avoided. Most of us enjoyed it when we were young and think it would be a good experience for kids. Michael was still unsure about Halloween but, at least, agreed that dressing up, candy, cider, and donuts are fun.

With the bill paid, we thanked Becka and will meet again next month. Becka took a photo of the group. I took Air Volvo home and tried to get focused again. Nope.

Home and resting, I read a stamp auction catalog and contemplated some of their literature collection up for bids. I collect forgeries and, occasionally, with luck, the original forged stamp. The Internet has limited information; the only sources are physical copies of twenty-plus-year out-of-print books with pictures and engravings of the differences. These are not usually available on Amazon or Abebooks.com, but the auction does not mention the titles, and I suspect these are lesser books.

Aside: Stamp collecting was a hobby of previous centuries and was troubled by unscrupulous dealers in the early 1900s. The dealers could not provide the early USA stamps in qualities that matched the demand, for example. Thus, the dealers created or hired out the printing of their own versions to help their customers easily and cheaply finish their collections. These reprinted versions (using the more polite word in stamp collecting) became confused with the original. They often appeared in images on the early stamp albums in the USA and UK. My collection overlaps this period, and I have to deal with this. Most collectors do not overlap this. I have a large-ish collection of forgeries as you get them as you pursue particular stamps. I often see the forgeries for auctions; some are even identified as forgeries, with some reaching ridiculous prices.

Example: The Pony Express was a real private mail carrier, and they used stamps for the short-lived express service. I collect them when available (and not overpriced), but I must carefully check the photos against my books. I have three volumes of non-US postal service stamps listing the known outright forgeries and reprints (over 100 years old now). I have a few real ones, and I watch for them. 

(this is a real one worth today over $100 and thousands if still on a cover)

I showered and dressed in my pajamas and soon fell asleep. I woke at 2 and 3 and fell back to sleep. I was wide awake for a while and worried it would be another sleepless night.

Thanks for reading.

The day ended with me still coding when the clock crossed midnight. The pleasure of creating a working program is intense and private–you made this. In the late afternoon on Wednesday, I completed my Kaggle first-attempt program in a Jupyter Book (I checked the spelling). I am always surprised when something is done, as I never expected it. This happens to me with code, model building, figure painting, and writing–suddenly, I am done. I was excited, and my hand had a slight tremor as I submitted the book to be processed and scored by the contest. I was under no illusions about my chances of success or even placing in the competition.

The first run failed, which surprised me as this contest result is a simple CSV file prediction. This is a major letdown, and the Kaggle website even suggests that the coder take a walk and calm down. While not quite to tears, I was ready to return to model building and other physical things for a moment. I was sure I missed something simple.

A review of my submission showed that 1) my program had replaced the case identifiers with standardized values and 2) I was sending real numbers and not integers for what an integer value is. Both are well, oops. I found that I was using the label rewriting on the key for the data. It was stupid but effective at hiding the data’s primary key, making my results nonsense (though this method can create a cross-reference for personal data obfuscation). A look at my other models later and a search on the Internet found code to force a column to an integer format. I resubmitted my model, and it failed. Another lesson: I saved my Jupyter book and ran it. It is hard to describe the elation when the work of days or weeks actually works.

While terrible (I have made no real effort to tune the input to the AI model), my score was surprisingly not at the bottom. I scored about 1/2 way, meaning my basic example is better than 1/2 of all the submitted successful work of other teams in the coding contest. I changed some parameters in how the AI works, with the positive results of increasing my score in the contest a few places higher. Later, around 10:30, I revised the code more and produced poor results by trying simpler AI models and a boosting model. I have tried these before in other code, and they easily fit into existing code. Most models use the same input structures, and I have seen code and written some that tour all the models and retain the best by evaluating each AI model and returning the best results. I fell back to my old reliable and easy-to-understand Random Forest of Trees AI model that simulates two thousand randomly created decision trees from the 58 features I supplied (and aligned), ranks them, and they vote on a solution.

One of the changes was that I forced some null data to zero after reading an article that suggested this would be good. The AI model reported a better model, but when I submitted it to the contest, I was not surprised to see the model sink by 50% when scored. That should not have worked in my mind, and it did not. It was one line of code in my data alignment code and was easy to back out.

I went to bed with options for improved code dancing in my brain. I slept well, likely walking through the code and data in my dreams. I don’t remember my dreams, but I was ready to code this morning!

Dear reader, I hope you have nodded off in my excited AI model descriptions; creating and mental gymnastics are my sports.

I showered, changed into my pajamas, and then returned to coding. Before this, I was at First United Methodist Church playing an intense board game, Concordia, a favorite of mine. Z and Andrew were my opponents in this resource management and deck-building game. Concordia is set in Roman times, with each player representing a family building a trading network in the first few centuries of the common era. The cards represent folks working for the family (or family members) who provide an action or two. Your turn is simply to play a card and do the action. But, the strategy and sequence of actions to be efficient are complex, and the options are manifold. Often, you find that you are one coin, step, or resource away from a brilliant play.

We played the basic map and included the Forum (this supplies some superpowers for the players and adds more zest to the game). Three players have plenty of room to run away to a corner with the basic map. Other maps constrain to support a lower player count, which means you are completing for cities, but we picked the initial map for our first play in some time. Let’s go easy.

In the play, Z went for cards and then found Z’s predilection to gather resources and organize them (Z is always the banker for us in the game, and all the coins are carefully stacked in piles), a distraction, which meant Z did not focus on building trade. Z soon found Andrew, and I blocked Z from the easy builds for trade outposts (represented by wooden-colored houses in the game). Andrew initially had trouble remembering how to play, got help from Z and me, understood again, and soon chased me across the board. Z finally remembered the solution to her issues, got all her colonists out, and ran to the board’s edges. Like in the days of the old, trade was most profitable on the outer edges of the empire.

As choir practice started, Andrew had to leave the game before we were done. Z was thrilled to take over Andrew’s position and keep her own. I was now playing a super-Z with two families. Here, fourteen-year-old energy was full-on as she jumped from each chair and played each position. I had misplayed and let Andrew (before Z took over) have a cloth city I could have built. Z-Andrew was spreading out fast but was building a whole providence, creating a powerhouse of resources, but not an end-of-game point-building count of difference providences. I ended the game, gaining 7 points, and won by about twenty points with a score of 120ish, a good showing.

Dondrea had a meeting after choir, and Z and I played Skull, which is so simple that Z had some trouble learning it. Z kept trying to add more to the game. It is a straightforward bluffing game, comes in a small box, and was invented at bars (it was initially made from a stack of coasters, and you can make it with stacks of four matching coasters). Soon, Z got it, and I started to win every game. Z is honest, but a sixty-year-old former IT corporate warrior has years of bluffing and detecting bluffing. Towards the end, Z started spotting my tells and winning more. More to come!

Skipping an uneventful afternoon, I had lunch with Steve and AJ before this. They were in the area for a meeting (they reside on the Oregon Coast), and we met for tacos in Hillsboro Old Town. We also had the smaller margaritas with excellent food at Amelia’s Rustic Mexican Restaurant. We talked about travel and other topics. We mostly enjoyed each other’s company, and Steve commented on my traveling alone. Years of corporate travel have made me very comfortable traveling alone. A skill I did not recognize until now. We will meet up again after my trip to New Orleans (with the hope that no new hurricane interrupts or adds spice to my trip). While a corporate warrior traveler, I experienced two hurricanes.

The morning was my usual routine of rising after 8 and writing the morning way. I had to rush, as I was meeting Steve and AJ at 11:30 and was only a few minutes late. This is unusual for me, but I find time less constraining now than before when five minutes meant a glare from a manager, project leader, or director. I was quickly forgiven, as they are pastors.

The coffee was glorious and liberal, and I added extra water to the French press as it disappeared too fast. Soon, I was typing fast and furious, caffeinated to the max. Breakfast was the easiest: just oatmeal, pumpkin spice flavor with pecans, and 1/2 a can of peaches with little sauce (the sugar sauce is unwelcome to my diabetes intake). While I would like to tell you that the liberal coffee had me dreaming of a world where petroleum-based engines join the coal steam engines in the museums next to the incandescent light bulbs, I focused on writing and getting to lunch with friends instead. Not every day can I appreciate fair trade products and think of the good one cup of excellent coffee that is properly paid for and does good for this world. Some days, one has to push through to connect with friends, which is good, too.

Thanks for reading.