Author: alohawild

I managed to sleep well and only woke once to prove hydration. I rose after the sunrise, slipping back to rising at 7ish instead of 4ish. Better. The cough is fading and appears to be more allergies than a cold. Good! It is still hard to be organized as my life has changed from an uncompromising multinational corporate IT warrior to well a duffer. I am also on the short side of the countdown for travel and surgery, so I will not start building some model or painting project.

The weather is visiting from California, Another Day of Sun comes to mind. We will not have rain until next week, and it ranges from cool mornings to hot afternoons, 50s to 75F (10C to 24C). There are a few days with a 50% chance of rain, but I suspect I will have to start watering soon!

I refused to get dressed until the afternoon to make me slow down. I wrote the blog and did more of Cowin’s camping laundry (and rewashed my permanent press shirts and pants that Corwin ran for me but left to wrinkle). If you remove the permanent press clothing while warm from the dryer, then it will remain mostly unwrinkled. If it cools wrinkled, it stays that way. When I want perfect shirts, I have them done at a dry cleaner, usually asking for them to be boxed to enable easy travel. Light starch.

I had the last poppy muffin (purchased) with Columbia coffee (thanks, Kramers) and a banana. My potassium is again low in my blood work. For lunch, I found the beef, cheddar, and coleslaw sandwich I made a few days ago (somehow going unnoticed by Corwin) and put it on a plate with dill pickle and some local potato salad. I enjoyed being outside now that it was warm and sunny with the deck furniture in the grass. The sandwich includes my trick of Thousand Island dressing on the bread and then spread out a layer of coleslaw over it. It makes it so good.

I kept forgetting about heading to a church book study on Monday at noon, so I headed instead to Hillsboro, went to the antique stores, and enjoyed a long walk around the town. I also wanted to check if the chest cold was really gone. Yup! Air Volvo had to circle until finding a parking spot, but other than that, it was a pleasant trip.

I was looking for a small working desk that Linda could use while she was here, but there was only one tiny rolltop that would not be suitable for a laptop and monitor. I will instead dust the one I have from the 1990s (!) and move it to the dining room, Linda’s new ad hoc office. I need to get a power strip (ordered).

I also recreated all the pictures I had for Susie’s Concert and will see if Shawn here still has what he used for the service and bring that too, Dondrea’s suggestion. I put the thumb drives in my carry-on. I always have it ready to use. Air Volvo had become an art piece, modern, from the crows and other flying artists. I purchased, using an app, unlimited ultimate washes for Air Volvo and took Air Volvo to be washed. After two runs, most of the art was removed. One bit remains, which I will get with a paper towel later. I decided I was washing Air Volvo more than four times a month, which is the break-even on their Wash Club. I might lose in the dark winter, but the extra trips in the summer should cover that. It seems like what a retired person would do (unless I washed it myself, which is not happening in the winter for sure).

With gas still at $4.59, I still gassed up Air Volvo (remember, we don’t have a sales tax, so please consider increasing your comparison by including your sales tax, but still, gas is high out here in the West). I am driving a Tesla for my next rental trip; it is my first electric car. I still hope that the new VW Van will be something I want. I have doubts as they are taking forever to deliver any.

We met Mariah for dinner at Nudi, a Japanese-style noodle house that serves exotic drinks. Traffic was slow, and we were there after a forty-minute round-about trip, avoiding I-84. The waiter was excited that they had some Dungeness crab and offered, among other dishes, pad thai. I made the mistake of ordering the special and soon had a crab sitting on top of noodles (I was expecting crab meat in my noodles). I had a cracker and discovered the disassembly process to access the crab meat inside the shell. It was a seasoned, cleaned crab with a side of pad thai. I gave away a set of legs to Corwin, who, while still eating endlessly, added the legs to his meal.

We had a long, fun chat with Mariah, suggesting I buy three fast but older model cars and see who could reach Susie’s Concert first in Michigan. I demurred. There were other suggestions for cars I could use now that I was retired. I am considering visiting Chicago (Deborah H, you are invited for that adventure if you can swing it–it was your college town, I believe) to visit the museums and maybe a concert in July. Next, Detroit for its incredible museum and maybe some excellent food. Finally, Laingsburg remember that my sister is turning 60. She plans to be out of town for her birthday, but we will make something work.

It is important to have plans, and Mariah might join this one. However, that did take us back to getting older model cars and seeing who could reach the Palmer House first. Hmmm. More to follow.

With cheesecake added to the dietary crimes, we broke up, and Air Volvo, in much lighter traffic, returned us to the Volvo Cave. There, I collected print copies of the instructions on how to learn about my condition during surgery. I took the papers to The 649, and there I edited more Howard stories while Avery and Natalia were happy to get the instructions, and Avery made me a drink and then coffee. I stayed until I finished the coffee at about 9:45 (just one cup so I wouldn’t be awake all night). Avery wished me well on my surgery (I won’t return until after all the adventures are done).

I reread my surgery directions and will use special soap in Michigan on Thursday. I am also bringing extra pajamas, as I need to wear clean clothing each night.

This morning, I arranged for 12 folks at The Beggar’s Baquant on Friday at 6PM in East Lansing. They will have us in the regular restaurant.

Running out of steam, I showered and was in bed around 11. I tried to read, but I soon slept. I am starting to feel better. I did have some breathing issues, so I took my inhaler and was fine. That was allergies messing with me.

The Cardinal Richelieu rose is blooming just before I leave. It is an old rose that only once bloomed. It is a favorite but is poor when cut; you have to enjoy the plant. Notice the shade is close to a cardinal’s purple-red.

Thanks for reading.

Sunday was quieter as I tried to get beyond the plane or travel-induced cough. I woke early and had some trouble getting back to sleep, but I got more sleep than I had for days. I felt better.

I then went to write the blog using Grammarly and WordPress and fought more with Grammarly as the AI (Artifical Intelligence, as they call it) wanted me to write more simply and with certain sequencing of sentences and words that I don’t always use. The product repeatedly insisted that this needed to be revised, and I received no happy messages, so I left my writing as I liked it. My editing of my long, 11,000+ word story later in the day for my hero Howard was also a fight with the tool. Sometimes, the software suggested non-sensible changes as it misunderstood my usage of some words and concepts.

In a later published Screwtape letter (“Screwtape Proposes A Toast,” 1959), C.S. Lewis wrote that the devil was trying to make everything boring and average. If everything was kept bland and uninteresting, there would no longer be a great evil, but there would also be no great good. Thus, all the host of hell needed to do was slightly push folks to not do good and collect their tasteless but bountiful harvest. Hell had gone industrial! I thought about that as my words and efforts faced the pruning of Grammarly’s newest algorithm (you can call it AI if you like). Not that I am claiming some demonic force has taken over my writing tools, but I need to strive to not be a simplified writing standard (maybe worse than demonic, corporate).

After my quixotic writing adventure and publishing the blog on FaceBook and by email (I am resisting putting it on LinkedIn), I cleaned up and dressed for church. While my weight refuses to move more than a few pounds, my inches continue to shrink. Folks have told me that muscle weighs more than fat and that I am actually recovering from cancer, pandemic isolation, grief, and stress and putting on muscles (F**k you, Screwtape!). I was still hoping to see the scale hit 240 pounds someday, sigh–250 today. My pants are falling off again. My shirts are starting to be large for me. I can hide these sins of fashion under vests, especially a navy blue sweater vest. I have drilled a hole in my new belt, which is no longer enough–I can walk four steps and share what underwear I selected today. I am using my old belt, which is also in the last hole. I must keep pulling my pants, but the old belt works to prevent unplanned exposures. For my suits, I use suspenders, and I am tempted to invest in more suspenders in the future. But then I would be looking like grandpa, and that is not the look I am ready for yet. Also, I am ruining the family tradition of playing Santa Claus. Yes, I was thinking of letting the whiskers grow out and ringing the bell in a red suit, but now I am lucky if I will be allowed to be an elf! I plan to take my new pants (one size smaller) and have them shortened after my surgery. The trauma of another surgery will likely cause more weight loss (cancer and brain surgery are not recommended weight loss processes!). I also looked into a swim club membership after June. They will send me a complementary pass in July.

Returning, somehow, to the narrative. I dressed in a French Blue button-down dress shirt, pride tie, my usual pants with belt, vest, and black dress shoes. I wore my black Humburg hat, which always gets a comment. I got to church early and had a surprising conversation that coffee was delayed as the homeless kept drinking it, so they put it out later. This greatly upset me as a strange solution to the problem for a church! But, the homeless won, as they just waited and then got coffee. One gal decided to rest during the service in a pew with my permission.

Dondrea was running the show and preaching. There were some surprises that she handled with her usual professionalism. She is the communication director for a major insurance company and handles microphones and public speaking with an ease that you must admire. I stayed out of the way and sat in a pew, drinking the precious coffee.

The hymns and the music were easy to sing, and the choir, missing half its members, sang with the congregation a familiar (and soon forgotten by me) hymn. Dondrea, warning me earlier that I should bring tomatos to throw at her, gave a sermon called “Duty Calls.” Pastor Ken and Dondrea both follow consciously or unconsciously the Methodist strong belief in experience and the Holy Spirit in religious practices. Your experiences in your life manifest the Holy Spirit, and so they include their discoveries in their lives.

In her sermon, Dondrea recounted her unhappiness at being called to jury duty for the first time in her life this week. She recognizes now that a jury is the base for the protection of our rights and the only safe means to execute justice. You must serve, and service is demanded of Christians in 1 Peter: “Honour everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Honour the emperor.” Yes, it says that (I check it in Greek). Dondrea made a call to action (usually Methodist Sermons are light on calls) for everyone, as good Christians and citizens, to do their duty, serve, and help the cause of justice (I resisted calling out, “It’s a cookbook!” But instead called out “no tomatoes” which got a few laughs).

After church, there were dangerously good baked goods and precious coffee. I headed out and called Evan. Air Volvo took me to the Volvo Cave, where I planned dinner (steaks) with Corwin. Next, it was The 649. I was not traveling far today.

Natalia was bartending and was later joined by Avery. Evan showed up after 1, and soon, we were in a deep Wyrmspan board game. This is a new and excellent game showing all the improvements and design decisions of the current crop of games. The game flow is clear and well-controlled, and there are few exceptions, usually as an interaction, not as a rule. I have seen folks familiar with Wingspan and other new games pick this game up in just a few turns.

I stalled and misplayed a few times. Evan managed to get high-point dragons, while mine were low-point. While I could blame the randomness of the game, which was more pronounced in Windspan, I think I misplayed. Evan won by more than ten points, with 47 points in dragon cards being decisive.

I ordered only dips, munchies, and two beers, one refreshing American Lager and a smaller (thanks, Natalia, for pouring a smaller one) red ale, Diablo Rojo while playing. Breakfast was a poppy muffin (purchased) and a banana with Columbia coffee (thanks, Kramers). Dinner was planned as a huge steak, so I tried not to overeat!

We played the board game (not the food) Stroganov next. I wanted to remember how to play this excellent game. Evan and I did have a few rules checks and minor disputes as Evan feels that the game turn allows too many options. I think that is the charm of the game. As I remembered it better, I scored a win by more than five points. Had Z been there, I am sure Z would have crushed us. We did not play that efficiently.

Avery and Natalia commented on my church outfit; they liked the look and the tie. They were dressed for summer bartending, and we were a strange contrast. I told them about the upcoming surgery and promised to stop by on Monday with instructions on checking my status (Charlotte at church wants the same instructions) and contact information. It makes me think of The Other Side in The Greatest Showman: Here is a version. I could not find an official clip.

I paid the bill, said goodbye to Evan, and headed out. I soon arrived at the Volvo Cave (forgetting that 209th is closed on this side) by an indirect route. I made wilted green beans with garlic and sliced almonds, couscous with a hint of India, and salted huge ribeye steaks on the grill (more of a fire fighting than grill process). I took mine outside and sat in the backyard and enjoyed my repass. The steak was salty and juicy and terrible for you, or, in other words, perfect. The slightly burned beans and couscous flavors matched the steak.

I was stuffed, so I did not finish my steak. Corwin was also defeated and had to put the steak off for a few hours. I putted around the house, and somehow, the clock spun to 10. I showered and fell asleep early, not coughing anymore.

Thanks for reading.

Sorry, this is a mundane day.

I woke late, after 5, rolled over, and could sleep until 7ish. I woke tired and coughing. It was not allergies, as I had told myself. I had the usual airplane cold and needed to slow down and just deal. I hate to cancel my attendance at gaming as this is my last chance to see some folks before my surgery. But it was the right thing to do. I also could tend to my right foot’s big toe. The blister was healing, but it would be good to just go slow.

So, I grounded myself at the house on Saturday and only did light work. No scrubbing, getting dust-covered, or making trips to GoodWill. Stay home, take lots of Airborne, and try to get better.

First, I wrote the blog and found myself coughing through the writing. Yes, it’s time to rest. I managed to take my time and write for hours. I did the dishes, took out all the recycling, and picked up the house. The new shower curtains arrived, as did the solo book games: Bismarck, Waterloo, and Gettysburg. These are from one of my favorite wargame companies (though I gave away all my copies of their games when I purged 2-person American Civil War games from my collection), Worthington. I installed the curtain in the master bathroom shower (the Volvo Cave has 1.5 baths) and cut it to go around the seat/shelf in the shower.

I made lunch. I cooked ground beef and added lots of garlic, oregano, bruised fennel seeds, crushed fire-roasted tomatoes (left over from an earlier cooked adventure), and a can of tomato sauce. I actually started by cooking mushrooms and green pepper in another pan in butter and adding that to the sauce (olive oil would have been fine, too, for those who avoid dairy). I added this to the sauce and let it cook on The Stove for twenty minutes. I boiled water. The Stove is faster and hotter than the previous one, and I managed to heat the pan for the water before the water was put in, and there was a reaction. Oops. No harm, just more steam than I was prepared for.

I took the leftover dried pasta from the previous adventures, combined them into little tubes and bowties, and cooked them the usual way in boiling salted water. I reserved less than a cup of water before straining the pasta. I then combined all the cooked pasta with the sauce and the reserved pasta water.

It was meaty from the mushrooms and ground beef, but the spices and tomatoes were in the background. But it’s still good. I had two bowls. If you are doing just ground beef, you can’t take this too far.

Still in my PJs and wearing my cooking apron over my PJs, I resolve to stay at the house. Corwin has new outfits that have a more Viking Retro look. Corwin loads up his friend’s truck with firewood and heads out. We looked at some of Ben, Susie’s father’s outdoorsman outfits (I recently found the box). One belt Corwin says is a sword belt (it used to carry an axe), and he uses that. We discovered that the powder horns (which I mailed to the house and have been in the closet for years) are actually full of black powder. Yikes! I will dump that in the flower beds (it is carbon, nitrate, and sulfur, all good for plants or blowing things up).

The house is quiet now, as it is just me and my laptop. I make iced tea, thinking of Susie and Leta, who both would make it and drink it all day. I clean up and dress. I take the iced tea, cookies, and laptop to the backyard. I move the deck furniture (and one wooden folding chair) and sit and write. I finish the basic editing of one of my longest Howard stories. This is my hero attending the SAP conference (though I never use those three letters in the story) and discovering a plot within the German software for world account; gasp! I wrote it after I did a speaker gig there in Orlando, and I also remembered another trip to Miami I took years ago. I think it is a salute to all my friends at SAP. Someday, I will have to look into publishing these.

By about 6, I was sleepy and tired, and I stopped writing. I undid the mess that I had made in the kitchen by using it. I ordered lots of Chinese-style food to be delivered, something I do when I am not well. This includes hot and sour soup. It arrived while I was reading the rules for the solo games. Waterloo and Gettysburg give you twelve plays for each challenge. Bismarck is different, as a naval WW2 game, and is designed around independent missions. I take too many plates of food to the backyard, sit in the shade, and eat and surf the internet. I ordered the lotus root and chicken with cashews. Nothing super calories and one veggie. The wontons were a different thing–cheese and deep-fried. I eat too much as I love the lotus. It reminds me of my travels in China with Susie and Mom Wild, where we would find it in everything while we cruised the Yangtze.

Sleepy and trying to stay awake, I shower and dress in my PJs. I force myself to read, but soon, I hold a book while dreaming of the words. Since it is an excellent history book by Eric Cline, one should not dream of new history! It is too early. I put away the book and slept, and I woke at 2 but managed to sleep again.

Thanks for reading.

It is hard to get started this Saturday morning as I actually slept until 7ish. I woke at 3AM to prove hydration and then rolled over a few times, but this time I actually slept. Unfortunately, this reduction of jetlag may be attributed to a cold. I keep trying to say it is allergies, but my friends warn me to rest and accept (cough, cough) that I may have a cold and need to slow down. Ugh!

Returning to yesterday’s narrative, I rose at 4ish and watched the dark turn to light as I wrote another longish blog about what was mostly a mundane day. There is some comfort in recalling a day of cleaning and friends. The dental work on Thursday (a slightly intense cleaning) has left me with no issues; yay! The weather has gone full on California. We are looking at the sun and ninety. Air Volvo registered 104F (40C) at one time, which is wildly inaccurate (it measures the temperature next to some metal that is obviously in the sun–my previous Volvo got this right by measuring only the air temperature).

I saw my pine tree smoke with pollen, and the trees and other plants were in full pollen mode. I can see the yellow sprinkles on Air Volvo. Again, I’m not sure I have a cold. As it is Mother’s Day week, we did one more f**king frost, so our temperatures ranged from the 30s to the 90s—a desert climate.  There is no rain in the forecast. This is a month early from the last couple of war years and two months early from the 1990s-2000s wet weather.

I had a pastry and Columbian coffee (thanks, Kramers) while I wrote the blog. I was time-boxed as I had a final 8:30 meeting at Nike. I had to return Nike assets, including my badge, for twenty-seven years. I was happy to give back the iPhone and the laptop, but the badge represented so much more.

I finished the blog, cleaned up, dressed, and headed to Nike WHQ in the usual morning traffic. Of course, it was a familiar drive to me, but this time, I was headed to a different area. This was a strange drive-thru experience.

Empty space. Hmmm.

I stopped at the first group. Dressed in black with swooshes, looking like hired muscle security for a disco, the first group took my name, checked I was on the list, eyed me carefully, told me to stay in my vehicle, and then (called on a walky-talky that ‘Michael Wild’ coming. I drove slowly and followed the path set by cones. I was expecting Nike’s version of SWAT next. Nope, just nervous HR people. The next person directed me to another group under tents. I drove under the tent. I was smiling and thanked the people for doing the job and told them, “I know it sucks; thanks for doing this.” That got a lot of relieved smiles.

When I surrendered my badge, it hurt. The laptop and iPhone were equipment I could care less about, but the badge said I was part of the team. It really felt sad to give it away forever. Later, I took a picture of where the laptop used to sit on my desk; the space was empty, waiting for me to log back in and have yet-another-Zoom-Nike-status-meeting. I am gone from the shoe company; it will take a while for the grief to become just a memory.

I don’t remember the drive back. I was soon trying to clean my shower. I was scrubbing hard, and the ick refused to release. I managed to make a dent in the shower. I cleaned the toilet using other processes. Unsatisfied and slightly covered in ineffective cleaners, I headed to Safeway and acquired more supplies. That seemed to help some. I ordered new shower curtains instead of cleaning them. They are $10 each (I got one for the other bathroom) and will look better than trying to clean the old ones.

With some progress and purchases, I declared a tactical victory (I had tried and reinforced my position) in the bathroom, cleaned up a bit, and headed to lunch. Bombay ChaatHosue at the Aloha Carts was my target. I arrived there and, it being Friday lunchtime, we were busy. I had forgotten to put out the trash even with me up at 4. I forgot it was Friday, and I was more focused on the tasks. I missed the lawn waste pickup.

I waited for my order there, and a gal introduced herself with a JW.ORG business card. I am familiar with the Jehovah’s Witnesses and was polite. She spoke in a very soft voice on my left not-hearing side, and it was hard for me to understand her. She was trying to get my interest, but I was not biting, and she heard about Methodists from me (the best defense is to talk about how nice your church/religion is). She did them complain that, being from the East Coast, did not quite understand folks in the Pacific Northwest and their lack of enthusiasm for her message. I told her the PNW is different, and folks are more tight here as this used to be the wilderness and logging. It is more important to help each other than to share doctrine (I used kinder words). I asked her, very politely, to enjoy her lunch, and she and her group went back to lunch.

I am never offended by people trying to save me.

I ate my three different veggie curries and naan. It was already warm, and the hot chai was a mistake, but it was so good. Also, adding the hot sauce to the veggies did not improve my perceived temperature! It was an excellent lunch, even with a JW moment.

I picked up my Best Buy gift cards. When I bought the new appliances, I scored $150 in gifts. It’s time to reinvest. Since I am retired, I have no plans, so I just headed there. I had trouble finding the data cable, and they had to call an expert who managed to sell me a useless $20 USB-C cable. I could have gone to Walgreens and got the wrong cable! F**k. I get an official Apple power plug with a USB-C connector for my trip. While more expensive, theirs usually work. To that point, Apple’s expensive data cable was not available at Best Buy. I should have known better!

I returned in Air Volvo to the Volvo Cave to discover the new cable, while powering my backup drive, would not allow for it to mount. So the diagnosis was that either the backup device died last week or the new cable is crap that only works for charging and connecting Windows devices. Found the short USB I used before. Device mounts. Backups happen. F**king worthless USB-C cable. I can use it to charge my battery, so I will keep it.

David and Michelle Smith want to visit about 5:30-6, which means 7 or maybe 7:30. I clean and pick up various items. I clean the toilet in the other bathroom. Corwin appears and vacuums the carpet. He will mop soon. He needs to move out of the spare bedroom soon.

I set the deck furniture in the grass in the shade; it is 80-90F (26C+). I make iced tea from the remaining Irish Breakfast tea (more is coming) and have Lime tea cookies and iced tea sitting outside at my small table. The surface is uneven, and I manage to dump the iced tea on myself (not my laptop) and finally change my pants. We also use The Machine to clean the sleeping bags; one Susie used at summer camps and one Corwin has. Corwin finishes the dishes and cleans the counters later.

I read, surfed the internet, and edited some Howard stories. Grammarly AI is trying to flatten my wording to better fit its clarity model, and I have to undo its changes. I like my words better. This is a new issue. Grammarly is advertising this AI writing, and I can see its appeal—instant, correct, clear writing—but I like my words better—less clear (maybe) and more interesting.

The Smiths are having some car work done, and it runs late. So we replan, and I meet them by an Indian place that closes an hour early now (despite what their website and sign say). We then try a nearby place. They have a problem in the kitchen. Our food arrives an hour late, and it is not great. It is also dark. I cannot see my food.

While waiting, I told many stories about Morocco and remembered my earlier trip to New Orleans. I had not seen The Smiths (David and Michelle together) in a while, so I managed to fill the time by playing videos on my phone about Morocco.

David and Michelle, David’s treat tonight, met me at the house. They picked a huge container, David Austin, of white roses for me to plant. I now have two to plant this weekend. I have no white roses. David and Michelle also prayed with me for my upcoming surgery in the backyard under the apple tree under the stars.

I pointed out that Susie’s tree is back. I thought the summer burned it up, but it is green again. It is a redwood fur that changes needle colors in the winter. The manager of the park next to the hummingbird house gave Susie and me a small tree that they would have to throw away to plant. I am so happy that it is still trying to make it. I have a metal frame (usually used for tomatoes and like plants) over it to protect it. Someday, there could be a small redwood in the backyard, Susie’s tree.

It was a struggle to drive home, and I was fading fast. David and Michelle soon headed out. Staggeringly tired, I showered and went to bed and read only a few more articles before my eyes could not stay open. I subscribe to Stratfy & Tactics Quarterly, and the summer issue is “Alternative Strategies for World War I,” which summarizes the war year by year and front by front. The writer, Tyrone Bomba, a historical war gamer designer, presents options and thoughts about the options not taken. It is a very constructive approach, as you would expect from a game maker, and I find it fascinating. Mr. Bomba believes the Germans almost won in 1914 and could have won had they moved a few resources to the extreme west of the western front (still supporting the famous Schlieffen plan), but he is unsure that the logistics would have supported the change. He is clear that the adherence to a failing plan in 1914 (on both sides) and dumping resources into a failed plan to hope for a breakthrough is not strategy but hubris.

I then slept better Friday night, as I said. I canceled my Saturday gaming to rest, and I will write and enjoy the sun.

And then some garden updates…

One time blooming Cardinal Richelieu. Ready to start.

China Rose always blooming and always first and last to flower.

 

Pink Moss shows its flowers and also shows some stress from the wet winter or pesticide/herbicide leakage into groundwater.

David Austin’s most excellent rose (impossible to get) is The Herbalist. It is my best plant.

Thanks for reading!

I woke at about 4 and was wide awake. I tried to roll over and fall back to sleep, but my nose was running, and I was coughing a lot. I have either a cold, which is possible, or am reacting to something in the air, which is more likely. I rose and started on the blog in my home office. Looking out the window, it was still dark outside and frosty (we had a frost warning). We are in our desert climate early this year with cold, cloudless nights and hot, dry afternoons. For my first twenty years or more, May was a wet and messy month with floods and mudslides. I have never seen this kind of day in May until the last two years. So strange and yet so welcome; we feel a tiny bit guilty as the world faces too hot of weather while we get to play in our lawns and gardens and not be soaked.

I was timed blocked as I had my first dental cleaning appointment since the pandemic. Sorry for the cringing, but with Susie’s illness, COVID-19, and my cancer, it just did not seem like the time to have my teeth scraped. I had no issues while I delayed care for years. Just lucky, I think.

So, I wrote slowly but with a time limit. I also ran my connections to Quicken, which updates all my active accounts. I update this every day and review every f**king transaction. No hacker is getting my money! I also have good books for the IRS and Oregon State should they ever become interested in me. I have paper records, as that is what auditors and governments want. I punch holes in everything and put it in a binder. It’s old school, but it keeps me safe and provides clarity to me on my finances. I only have an AMEX for credit cards, but I did apply for an Alaska Air card, so ‘retired’ might be an issue. I pay AMEX off, as is the usual tradition with this card, every month.

Aside: I planned to retire around 55, and doing so meant that I had good control of my finances (and health). And while these plans faltered from events, I still had the license for Quicken, and once I was facing financial stress and fascinating (to me) tax complexity, I decided to add the task to my life of daily monitoring Susie and my finances and Quicken was nearly perfect for this. Refinancings, borrowing from my 401K, life insurance payments, and huge tax refunds from casualties made it all a good plan. I also hired a lawyer and a CPA. So far, only the IRS forms and my CPA has needed this information.

I completed the blog and various paperwork items. I ordered the solo book war games by Worthington: Bismarck, Waterloo, and Gettysburg. I suspect I will have time to use them on planes and will make them available for people waiting for me. I’m not sure Linda (my sister) or Dondrea wants to get out a pencil and some 6-sided dice to refight the British WW2 Navy, put on a grey cap, and see if they can take Cemetary Ridge or go French. These are a new type of game that has you write in the book and designed to let you make the important decisions instead of moving hundreds of pieces of paper on a board. They are highly recommended, especially the WW2 navy-based game Bismarck.

I can imagine being woken by Linda, Z, or Dondrea after the surgery. “How do you feel…but should I avoid the battle with Hood…should I take in more reserves…should I do this like Bobby Lee?” will be the questions. I would be so happy to not focus on my feelings after having a hole drilled in my head and not notice where all the hoses are connected to me. “Hell, sink the Hood!” I would shout after waking.

The dentist’s office is a few minutes away, and you could walk there, but I think it is better to drive back. The dentist is on vacation, so today, I only got the dental hygienist. We take x-rays, which she messes up a few times, and I get extra radiation this morning—oh my! My new dental hygienist used to do military in Europe, and she, I have things in my mouth, mostly talks about her trips. She is sorry she never did Morocco; during breaks, I tell her Morocco was worth visiting, splitting your visit between a few cities. While not heavy-handed, my teeth need extra work, but she is happy to report that it is not that bad, and my gums look good. And while she is not the dentist, the x-rays show no emergencies that need to be treated. I was not a fan of the ultrasonic thingee, and she did get my attention once. “That woke you up” was her neutral and military-like response. “I will turn that down,” was her answer. No issues, and while she recommends some painkillers, only Tylenol is allowed again. I took two before the process, which impressed her. I was fine.

At the house, I moved the laptop to the kitchen and started playing videos on YouTube, mostly 80s and 90s. This made me sing along and dance while cleaning the freezer and ice maker. The icemaker had been sitting outside and needed extra care. Moss, leaves, and other ick had accumulated. It took a workout to clean it in hot, soapy water. I had to get some paper towels into its guts to remove some of the ick.

I removed the drawer and the shelves in the door as they were messy. Freezers don’t usually get too messy. Melted ice cream was everywhere. I had to heat water to melt the goo at the bottom of the freezer. The shelves were thrown in hot, soapy water in the sink. The freezer door is also the shelf bottom and was covered with refrozen sticky stuff. I covered the floor with towels and soaked the surfaces in hot, soapy water. That and lots of scrubbing fix everything. I collected the peas, corn, and beans that were loose and dried everything with the towel before reassembling.

I then went through what was in the freezer and tossed anything old, ruined (mostly ice cream for Susie), and obviously beyond its end-of-life. I hauled another bag to the trash. I was startled a little later when the first load of ice fell in the ice maker!

I continued on with a mundane morning with laundry and dishes. Sorry if this sounds boring, but it is the first time I have had the freedom to get to these tasks. It feels so good to get to them.

Lunch, still a few hours away, requires planning. I plan to make the messy pasta dish from the NY Times again for lunch. I put out the spicey Italian-style sausage to defrost. Air Volvo, after I go back to get my phone, heads out to Trader Joe’s. I forget the recipe in Air Volvo, but I manage to remember what I need. I also decided to refill the freezer and get various excellent easy to prepared foods for the freezer, including their excellent naan. Oh, they have our favorites today. Soon, my small cart is filling. I resist the excellent meats and wines. I did not put all this weight by eating crap. Resist!

I put my bounty away after escaping Trader Joe’s for under $200 and start the two-hour process and ritual to summon a messy pasta dish to delicious and spice existence. “Hell, yes!” as I began to brown the sausage, I added lots of garlic (the recipe was more specific, as you can imagine), much oregano, and a pile of fennel seeds beaten with the back of a knife used like a hammer (I still don’t have a kitchen device for that–how is that possible). Again, the recipe had more specific expectations. Trader Joe’s sells excellent Italy-sourced whole tomatoes, peeled, in a can, and those go in the pan. As instructed, I break up those with my spoon. Next, crushed tomatoes, 1/2 a can, but I have fire-roasted (my favorite) again from Italy. Bay leaves, salt, and lots of stirring get us to a spicy, bright meat sauce. The recipe and I are not looking for slow-cooked subtleties but a punch.

I drift from the recipe as I get out a glass pan, add 3/4 of a pound of dry bow-tie pasta (to be American), and then pour the now-cooked content of the pan over the pasta. I mixed in 1/3 of good mozzarella cheese torn by me (not the plastic-like shredded for pizzas) and then added hot water. I then sprinkle the cheese on top and spoon on some ricotta cheese on top (I need to double this next time as the surface area is twice now). I have turned on oven number two in the new The Stove, and soon lunch, bright, cheesy, and spicy, is finishing. I chop up some fresh basil and sprinkle on top. I have two bowls and another late for a snack (skipping dinner).

I am running out of time…let me be brief.

I took a nap. I was woken by a text from Dondrea asking me if I was joining the Theology Pub tonight. I was dead asleep and would have likely woken the next day. I climbed out of the bed that seemed to want to hug me, stumbled to the office, and managed to reconnect with Dondrea on a Zoom meeting.

Today’s topic is Respect from a Christian perspective. We often mix freedom of speech and respect in the USA. Folks can and do say outrageous things, but does that mean they should be disrespected. Hmm. We concluded that Christians need to provide respect to others, but when things are plainly wrong like Jesus driving out the money changers, we need to act, and that may be perceived as not being respectful. Also, the USA is a country of laws and not privileges, which means there are limits to speech and other perceived rights to provide justice. Folks seem to forget that we are a country of laws first. We also discussed the ancient concept of a philosopher king ruling and how even Plato thought it would not work. I recalled that a comedy playwright who was mocked in one of Plato’s dialogues ended his greatest comedy with the gods giving a dead playwright a rope to hang the corrupt leaders in Athens and sending the poet back alive to deal with the mess. Maybe we need more angry poets who are respected and loved by the gods and the people. Respect is important.

After this, I soaked my foot in Epson salts, which helped. I went to bed and ran out of time to write. There at the end of the day, perfect!

Thanks for reading.

And our theme song for the blog: Think!.