Author: alohawild

Going backwards, I finished the evening reading more polite British Murders and turned off the light. I have started using eye gel now that my eye doctor has said that, likely, my eyes are not closing completely when I sleep, which explains my dry eyes. I still had some from before the brain surgery. I slept and had dreams.

I had returned to the house via Air VW the Gray from Portland around 7:30 without incident. I was glad I had a cup of tea before I left, as the dark and busy day had left me sleepy. I had ignored the dishes for a few days, and now I put away the clean dishes and unloaded the sink into the dishwasher, but washed the kitchen knives by hand. I assembled the coffee, folded the laundry, and then put it away. It always seems like the world is more right once you get the kitchen and the laundry in order.

I then reviewed the possible Jazz locations for our upcoming trip to New Orleans and points south. I searched the Internet and found some intriguing suggestions and followed them up. I discovered a Mixology Class and booked that. I am creating a list of options and plans. Pastor Ken wants jazz on Saturday night. Working on it.

Going further back in the day, I arrived in Portland after my eye appointment and was too early for Schilling Cider House & Gluten Free Kitchen. I then walked up Division Street from 28th. I enjoyed the sudden parting of the clouds and another wonderful winter/fall day in Portland (winter and fall are about the same here in the Pacific Northwest, with only the temperature of the rain giving a hint at the true season). Kathleen was running late, meaning I could spend more time on my walk. I stopped at Rudy’s and had a haircut.

The most dangerous thing is not the war or uncontrolled crime, but the uneven sidewalks from letting trees grow and push against the cement.

The scariest thing was the bill for the haircut, as I was, please forgive this, at the cutting edge of hair styling, but went with just a scissor cut. No complex spelling names in my hair or multi-level buzz-ing. Just a cleaning up and shortening.

At 4ish, I returned and was not the first customer, and found our usual comfy chairs and got my one cider a week. Kathleen appeared, and we talked and got some food. I went with the pulled pork, but without a bun, paired with za’atar fries. We both got some work done, but we were both tired, and with the sun down early, I felt sleepy. We found a gluten-free bakery, coffee place, and pizza that was quieter. The cider house was filling up and getting loud. I read a few words aloud, between bites of delicious coffee-cake-style muffins, and got some feedback. We then decided to end our Friday early and head to our respective homes.

I moved back further, I finished the blog, and started my day with my laptop and book in the EV. I stopped off for lunch at Happy Panda and enjoyed their mushroom chicken, which seemed extra flavorful today. Perfect. I then discovered my fortune, which suggests I will head to Finland after visiting Iceland this year. At least that is how I interpret this oracle.

I headed southeast on the highways to reach my new eye folks. The traffic was not heavy, surprising for a combination of 26 to 217 to 5, sort of a tour of the worst traffic, but I was headed in the opposite direction of rush hour. I arrived and was soon given a laminated form and a wipeable marker to complete. That is a great idea. No shredding or endless files of paper. All scanned and typed into their systems. However, they do not use MyChart, and I found myself on my phone looking up things in MyChart to enter into this form for YAMS (yet another medical system).

I got to do all the tests, try to look here and there, and be scanned. I met with the eye doctor, and she completed the findings for new glasses, which I requested to have maximum magnification on maximum bifocals. I get a line. I am accustomed to lined glasses, as I use 3x bifocal safety glasses when working on figures, models, or electronics. It helps.

I picked a gold and brown frame and discovered that it was the cheaper one (just luck), and soon I was only out for $160 with insurance. I have the early stages of cataracts, but my blood vessels and other parts of my eyes are healthy. The dry eyes need drops and night gel. Surgery for my eyes is in the future, but not the near future.

For those who wonder, a minor correction for my long-distance vision and a minor adjustment to a stigmatism in my left eye. My near vision is not great, but it is likely due to aging and not caused by anything else. Overall, as I expected. I then enjoyed Highway 5 and then messy bridge traffic, and soon was in SE Portland. All was pretty, and folks were enjoying the day as the rains paused. No signs of war or crime, and definitely no reason for a shoot-to-kill order from President Trump.

I started my day by rising after 7 and discovering that I had forgotten to assemble the coffee. I made the coffee and ignored the dishes. I did put the dirty clothing in for my usual Friday run. As it is just me, doing laundry twice a week with The Machine keeps the load size down and usually gets things done in a few hours. I ignored Monday’s pile of clothing.

I wrote a card for Mom Wild and received it in the mail when it arrived. My 90-day supply of prescriptions. This is likely my last one on this insurance. I have to use ObamaCare next year. An exciting development as I can at least pay for coverage, something that was not possible before (and forgotten by most folks — you had to work for someone full-time to get any coverage before ObamaCare). I spent two years with no health insurance after college; I remember what it was like.

That brings us to the start of the day. And thank you for reading!

 

 

 

I rose after 7 with plans for lunch with Scott, a Zoom meeting for my church’s SPRC committee (for those who don’t speak Methodist, the HR and admin committee), and to take Joan S grocery shopping. She was injured and has yet to be cleared to drive. So a busy day.

The coffee had been assembled the night before, and I enjoyed a locally roasted and ground Mexican coffee. I found my mental footing and got it under me, and then I started my mental walk. I updated my Quicken setup with all the transactions downloaded from PayPal, Amex, and Bank of America. I receive updates from most of my accounts at US Bank. The Wealth Management section is problematic, and I only keep track of balances. The same is true of TreasuryDirect.

I generally earn 4% on my money, except in my savings account, which offers a slightly lower rate of 3%. However, I need quick access to that money and accept the somewhat lower rate for that convenience. I originally had a 5% interest rate on my money, but US Bank used a teaser rate on me. I have since moved 1/2 of the cash to other instruments that earn more.

I started on the blog and began the task of reassembling Wednesday in my mind, capturing it in words, and trying to avoid some of the mundane, yet still mundane, can bring pleasure, like a dusted and well-organized bookcase intermixed with curiosities, but not too many. I try to construct my virtual bookcase with a few asides and boilerplates and make the story of Wednesday at least pretty.

I spoke to Deborah here and there throughout my busy Thursday. We are counting down 8 days until I return to her in Michigan. Off to Michigan on the 10th of October, a Friday, arriving at 7 p.m.

I am pleased to finish by 10ish, publish my blog, and move to my list of tasks. I usually keep the list in my head, but lately, it has become quite long, and it is best to keep it written and in my office. Before I can get far, I receive the contract from the builders for my church. I read the contract through. It is boilerplate, primarily, and I send it off to others to review. Later in the evening, I will approve it. Wow, here we go!

I will add a car rental to my trip next week, somewhere on Wednesday. I don’t remember the timing.

I dress and all that, and head to the meeting with Scott at McMenamins Cedar Hills early. Scott arrived a few minutes after me, and we got a booth and spent nearly two hours chatting. We caught up and then covered our trip plans and investments. We talked about diving, and Scott dives. He is meeting his daughters in Key Largo in December to get them certified for deeper diving, as many wrecks and other interesting sites are located at greater depths. I may pop down there the week before Christmas and meet them, as I have never been down there and learned from Scott to fly to Miami and rent a car. I might fit that in just to meet and enjoy the area. To me, Florida is a special kind of crazy brought on by the place’s fauna and flora trying to kill you, and an occasional hurricane, open carry, and well-armed, not the mix I usually want to visit.

I rush back to make the church SPRC meeting, which runs about an hour on Zoom (my laptop at the house). We cover a wide range of topics, including the disruptions that the refresh, now with a schedule and a signed contract, will bring. It was a productive meeting, and there weren’t too many tasks to follow up on.

I contacted Joan S, and she is ready for me to pick her up and get a few grocery items. I offer earlier in the day to find dinner after getting the groceries, and she counters with a Break the Fast dinner with her family and friends, who are not expecting her. There will be plenty, I am told (there was), and I agree and wear a dress shirt and sweater vest instead of my usual T-shirt.

I travel the 20 minutes to Joan S in Air VW, the Gray, and to North Plains, which is further west and less urban than Beaverton and Hillsboro. Joan S slides into the back seat, Biz Class, and we head to Safeway. There, we do the needful and soon return to Joan S’s place and unload the goodies. With a few updates, we head to the party at Linda’s (whom I met for the first time), who loves color, and her house is bright, crazy, and welcoming. I always wanted a home with a spiral staircase. Excellent.

At Safeway, the EV froze. It would not start. I had pulled it on a curve to make it easier for Joan, and it wouldn’t start. It was not a safety lockdown, like what I experienced when the Volvo broke down and refused to unlock the parking brake without an override. I got out of Air VW the Gray, walked around it to check there was nothing too close, got back in, and it was fine. Getting out and in these modern computer-controlled vehicles is the only way to cause a reboot. It was fine. Hmmm. Don’t expect to jump a curve and make a quick getaway with one of these!

I switch to social butterfly mode, shake hands, introduce myself, and am introduced by Joan. I try to remember the names and faces associated with the names Joan S has used over the years. The same was for them. I recall discussing travel and our favorite drinks. Old Fashioned and Gin & Tonic were the most loved. Sazerac was unknown to them, but they may search one out.

Folks came and went from Linda as various services were completed for Yom Kippur. The crowd was a pleasant mix of ages. I got to meet Joan S’s family, including her mother, who was delighted to see Joan, as it was expected that she would miss due to her injury.

(cropped to just Joan S and me)

We had a bit of a car shuffle, and folks complemented the ID.4; it is an excellent EV, I think. I had to back it out, but the back-view camera works well, and it steers well. I soon had Joan S back at her place, with various food from Linda, and I headed home.

The social experience, driving in the dark, and I think the vaccines made me tired. I used Nav and got home without incident or unhappy notes from the local police for my extra-legal speeds. Air VW the Gray loves to go fast.

I soon was in bed reading. I forgot the coffee and slept, putting on my PJs early. I slept and my dreams are faded from my memory. I was probably back to playing board games in my dream world, likely in last place. No reason to remember that!

Thanks for reading.

 

The rains are back; it was dark and gray here in the Greater Portland Area, and I had to use lights in the house. I try to ensure I work in bright white light. It is rain clouds, not smoke from the war, in Portland, which is primarily words. There was, I read, a scuffle on Tuesday night, and a few people were taken in for being overly rude. The troops are inbound but stopped for a few days for additional training, I also read. No tear gas, fires, or arms were used. I was suggesting to my liberal friend that we have a parade for the troops and ask Portlanders to take-a-marine-out, like we do for Fleet Week during the Rose Festival.

I rose after 7 and soon enjoyed Mexican coffee roasted and ground in Hillsboro. I had no plans on Wednesday as Z had soccer. I already have the heat on. Winter is colder this year as the ducks and geese have returned. I understand that they were staying further north as it was warmer the last couple of years, but they are back this year. I suspect that means a cold, wet winter.

I returned to my transactions and updated Quicken with all of that, making a few corrections. I also saw a $31 payment from the Treasury, as my short-term $ 5,000 Treasury Bill rolled over using their automatic process. This is my first time doing this, my first rollover. And while it rolled over to 4%, this has a zero expense, and none of the interest is taxable in Oregon. I have parked $50K in short-term Treasuries. I also parked $10,000 in SGOV shares, which pay about the same and are also Oregon tax-free, but come with a slight expense. It is easier to get in and out of SGOV as it is just shares. A recommendation from Scott.

I started working on the blog and managed to finish it by 10, decorating it with a few pictures. I received a note from the Nixon Library that they are having a sale and discovered that signed copies of Trump Jr.’s books are on giveaway prices, as is William Barr’s book. I could not resist taking a screenshot and sharing it on Facebook.

I wrote a card for Mom Wild using my new Notorious RBG cards and stamps. I did not get it out in time and did not take Air VW the Gray out yesterday. It went in the mailbox for Thursday. I did remember to put out the trash and lawn waste.

As often happens, the days seemed to slip away in little tasks and conversations with people about church matters. I did watch some more of this season’s Wednesday. I have mixed feelings about this one. The plot is good, the special effects are excellent, but the character of Wednesday seems somewhat blunted due to her anger and foot-stomping. Still a fantastic show. I will start the next season of Foundation later this year. I am on season 2; there are three seasons so far.

I ordered the cake for Deborah’s birthday in consultation with her son, Donovan. I have corrected my hotel stay in Detroit to cover all my time there (oops); I leave 10 October for two weekends in Michigan. I called the hotel, and since I used their website (getting a reasonable price), they could update the reservation.

I was also slowed down by my vaccines, as my arm hurt and I experienced a slight feeling of exhaustion and flu-like symptoms. I avoid the fever and chills this time. It is undoubtedly better than my last flu, which went on for three weeks. I have found that as I age, it takes me longer and longer to recover from the flu.

The sun appeared, and the clouds returned to high, clear skies. I took a full walk and reached three thousand steps. Again, good for a day after a vax adventure. I punched my newly purchased wargame, Guns of August (named after the famous book), and read the rules. It is a low-complexity war game that covers only three months of the start of World War I, and I will try to play it against myself to see how it works and check the setup. There are also mini-scenarios in the rules. I have the massively complex and monster games that cover the war, but I never found the will to invest that much in the games. I have also read reviews that say the games fail to reach realism. I have learned that what a game should simulate are the decisions and their results. Many board games do this, but wargames often dive too deep into the details to do this. But that also makes them interesting as you struggle running a couple of hundred counters on a front.

Dinner, spent talking to Deborah as she ends her day, and then with others, consists of more cheese from Market of Choice, crackers, and some battered shrimp from the freezer, processed through the Air Fryer setting on my double oven stove. I do more episodes of Wednesday and then read Elephants Can Remember by Agatha Christie. This one is told from Mrs. Ariadne Oliver’s point of view. Christie said Mrs. Oliver is written with a strong dash of herself. I enjoy seeing the author as a character within the story. I recall the plot from the BBC version, and I appreciate Christie’s concise writing; I will try to remember a few things for my own writing.

I remember to take my pills and read in bed in my PJs. It is 11:45 when I start to nod off. I turn off the light; this is a physical book. I dream.

I recall being asked in my dream to explain the math behind a collectible card game I was learning, which involved a lot of bits and cards. I seemed to have played this before in other dreams, and I discovered that we were being interviewed for some kind of dream broadcasting system. I try to explain the game after the others I played with got all the easy questions about playability and art. While talking, I remembered another game I had played and enjoyed, but I stayed focused on this new card game. I now remember that I have been playing some interesting games in my dreams. I often start in the game where I left off when I dream.

The rest is faded and in shadows. I slept well beyond 6 today.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

I woke on Tuesday with my alarm at 6:30 and considered for a few moments that I could skip writing the blog until later, close my eyes, and wake at 8-something and rush. But no, I climbed out of bed, found my slippers. I try to remember to wear slippers or shoes at all times, as my feet are slightly numb from chemo and diabetes, and I can damage them without the requisite pain-to-injury to warn me to care for them. I have found a small puddle of blood after nearly shattering my toenails. Shoes and slippers work to prevent that.

I located the kitchen; it was still in the same place, and I poured out Mexican coffee (assembled the night before), locally roasted and ground. While less bitter than my usual blend, sipping its bitter darkness while reading the news and the impending Federal invasion of Portland, I thought once again we have a long way to go until we discover Justice with Compassion in our country, and here in the Pacific Northwest, it appears seldom of late. I have a banana and a muffin with the coffee. I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog (there are often things you remember an hour or so after trying to recall events; sometimes I return to the blog and add them in) that I made Maple Pecan Muffins from a box of King Arthur Flour. And while muffins are a gluten- and carbohydrate-rich wonderland, they are still good, and I like them. An occasional dietary sin.

I write the blog until the last moment and even more into my planned travel time. I quickly shower, shave, dress, and get in Air VW the Gray, at about 90% charge, and head to war-ravaged Portland with my laptop and a card for Mom Wild. The traffic is slow and I am ten minutes late. I connect 26 to 405 and travel through the streets to reach Richards, and with the exception of some extra-legal driving, see nothing to suggest the war has reached downtown or lawlessness that calls for Federal troops with Trump’s shoot-to-kill order.

We, Richard, James, and I, return to the Tainted Grail cooperative and role-playing style game (dudes-on-a-board game). I took up my character named Maggot, a druid of the old powers, and we wandered the fantasy world, a mix of Arthurian legend, SciFi, and dark magic leaning towards Lovecraft. James added a notebook to the game and started writing down things. I seem to remember most of it, but James and Richard, both avid board gamers, do not recognize the storyline as I do, being a Dungeons & Dragons player. The story is everything to a D&D DM or player. We retrace our steps and find various complex challenges this time. Things we missed in the last plays, as we had previously rushed to complete missions. We discover items we were asked to recover in various minor quests. As our time is running out, we often play to 1, we solve another quest, and hit chapter 4. Yay!

I am enjoying the game more and push Richard and James to explore the story and stop searching for awards like board gamers. We are comfortable with the rules, combat, and diplomatic challenges. I could see the stories changing and morphing as we play, and I like that immersion. Better. It is less about building up my character, but rather about the story and how we interact with it. It is beginning to feel like a campaign to me.

We will play next week and then take a break for my and James’ travel. I head to Broadway Grill and get a parking spot in the nearly empty streets on Tuesday. There are a few folks there finishing their lunch. I get my same booth, open my laptop, finish the blog, and talk to Deborah a few times. We spoke on my drive in and while I waited for my lunch. I commit another sin and order the chili dogs. I am hungry.

I eat my onion-covered spicy dogs with meaty chili while I finish and publish the blog. I write a postcard for Mom Wild. It is the last day of September, and I remember this is the weekend a few years ago when Susie’s blood pressure crashed and she passed on the following Friday. It is hard not to let depression rise. But Susie passed in her sleep next to me (we both had nodded off) and left us among family and friends without pain or fear. You can ask for nothing more.

I manage to find my mental feet, mental stand, and brush away the depression and accept the sadness with the colors even brighter in the world. I take another picture of Portland, showing that it is all quiet on the Western Front, to borrow a phrase. And get back in the EV, not stopping at the excellent Broadway Bookstore, carefully backing into traffic, and then travel in a messy, near-rush-hour return to Beaverton. It is slow going with the speed never approaching extra-legal. This time, there are no wrecks, and I soon reach home. I am only an hour from my next appointment.

I stopped by the post office and mailed two holiday-themed D&D 5E adventures to Clint in New Hampshire. I purchased some stamps as my order had not arrived, and I had only a few left. I say I will take the Boston stamps and not the William F. Buckley, Jr. stamps. I liked his spy story books, and he was interesting to listen to when he did his show, but he was, to me, the best example of White Privilege running riot over people’s rights. If I were going to write a play with Mephistopheles, I would say just sit in a chair in a light suit and do Buckley. I was misunderstood by the postal clerk and took home those stamps too. Hmmm.

I receive the mail and open a package; yes, I also get my stamps. There in, I find a set of Ruth Bader Ginsburg cards and stamps of the Notorious RBG to go with the cards I ordered from the postal service. Yes, the same organization that published William Buckley, Jr. stamps. How bizarre and so American. It does give you faith. Those Buckley stamps are going on my next tax payment!

I next reboarded Air VW the Gray and headed to Walgreens. There, we discussed and finally agreed that I am not yet qualified for the RSV vaccine (I need a prescription), but the flu and the COVID-19 vaccines were ready for me. These are the updated versions that cover the latest versions and provide limited protection against new versions that will emerge later this year. It is the cheapest way to avoid costly medical adventures, terrifying adventures. My wait was longer to get the paperwork done; the person in front of me took quite some time, too, but once that was passed (and insurance was approved and paid), I received my cost-free injection from a kind pharmacy intern. I put them in the arm that did not enjoy the IV and blood donations. Now both arms hurt.

At home, I cut the New York Strip into pieces and let it sit in teriyaki sauce. I had stopped by Safeway and picked up some items to make dinner. I cut up one bok choy (I should have done all three). I sliced onions and browned them in oil. I added the steak and sauce. When browning, I add the veggies and cover them, letting the steam work on them. I made rice, 1/2 cup dry, to go with it. Rice is not good for me, so I keep it to small amounts. It was too heavy in meat and needed ginger to give it an extra kick, but it wasn’t bad. Ginger and 3x bok choy next time.

I spoke to Deborah for a while, and she rang off as she got sleepy in Michigan. I could feel the usual slowing from the vax. I get flu symptoms and slow down for a few days. I do the dishes, watching my best news source, late-night comedians (I do read the NYT, CNN, and often BBC and Jerusalem Post). I am dragging, and it is past 10. I find the bedroom (it is still in the same place), put on my PJs, and crawl into my bed. I bring a mystery novel as I finished another Chinatown story, but the racist writing and poor storytelling have not made me happy, and I think some polite British Murder is a good brain cookie.

But night closes in on me, and my mind is happy to drift off to dreams. And while the dreams were forgotten, they were not horror or me wandering lost, and seemed pleasant, and may have been walking in my dream kingdoms where I am likely running some version of Wild’s Furniture and Appliances, Inc. “We Beat City Prices!” in my phantom world. Selling dreams of comfort and ease, I suspect, with Grandpa and Dad. They close the deals when I can’t. Well, at least it is a happy fantasy for me to find in my mind this Wednesday morning while I write this.

Thank you for reading!

 

Monday started in a rush at 7ish and with local roasted and ground Mexican coffee. I barely had time to taste the coffee as I rushed through the blog and my usual Monday tasks. Instead of my usual Saturday-like Monday, I was rushed all morning and into the afternoon. I tried to write the blog, but Jeff, my fix-it guy, was headed here to discuss fixes to the drainage and to remove some trees that are leaning against my neighbor’s fence. I was able to finish it until the early evening.

Showered and dressed in time for Jeff’s arrival, we discussed creating a stone-filled creek in the back to divert the water to the French drain. We will also redirect the water spout on the deck to head towards the back, using a pipe to run along the base of the fence. Jeff will see if he can unclog the existing drains to the street in front. With the water redirected from the back and the pipes cleaned, maybe this will work better.

Jeff will get back to me on costs and see if this can work. I headed out after Jeff left with just a book, Bismarck, in my pocket. I put on a waterproof coat and my wool hat. The Oregon Mist was back, and some rain. The intersection was partially blocked, and I had to reverse my usual steps to the bus stop. I reached the bus stop moments before the TriMet 57 bus arrived on TV Highway. It was a short, uneventful trip on the 57 to the Beaverton Transit Center, and I boarded the MAX train to Portland. The station was being cleaned by a woman pushing a cleaning device, spraying water, and a man holding the hose for the machine while she worked. Typical. On the train, reading on my phone (mostly looking at warzone stories about Portland), I got off at the Portland Library stop and walked through a quiet Monday afternoon, in the usual sleepy Monday in Portland.

Note: Someone pointed out that I do not know what a warzone looks like (I value their input). I was told that a war zone may seem like a usual place until it is full of war (an eye roll goes here). I have been to real warzones in the 1990s and experienced the protests in Portland and the scent of tear gas. I have a good idea what this looks like. I was in the middle of cancer treatment back in the First Trump administration and could only visit Portland’s protests.

I had not been on the Portland Street Car in years and enjoyed the slow passage through the city to the waterfront OHSU clinic (three to four blocks from the ICE facility at the center of the mess). I arrived and had to forgo taking the Arial Tram as I needed to locate imaging first — I enjoy flying over Portland in it. I entered the OHSU Health Center building, located next to the tram that leads to the rest of OHSU on the hill above, and was directed to the third floor. I took an elevator and then remembered I was pointed to another set, which I found went to the parking garage under the building. Oops. After my tour of the lobbies of the garages and other unneeded locations, I slunk around the corner and took the correct one.

Having located the third floor and imaging, I was checked in and informed that they would fit me in early and to have a seat. I waited about thirty minutes and was then taken to a room, and an IV was put in for contrast. I was then taken to another waiting area and waited. I was told that a minor paperwork error caused the CT scan to be left without a subject for twenty minutes. Now, at my original scheduled time, I was taken to the CT scan and was popped in and out in about five minutes. This time, I was tired and felt a bit under the weather. Next time I will try to eat before!

I then wandered the nearly empty, damp streets, looking for lunch. My first attempt, a Lebanese place, was closed on Mondays and also closed after 2, as it only serves lunch. I found an Indian place and had a vegetarian meal; it is Portland, after all, and I nearly choked on the mild version of chickpeas and spices. Rice and naan helped, and soon, I was burned in and could eat my lunch. It would be the most dangerous thing I faced in Portland today, except for the ICE officers.

Needing more steps and feeling refreshed by food, I head to the ICE building using my iPhone maps. No surprise that it is on the map app. There, I find a small crowd and a single boarded-up building in a boring part of town near The Old Spaghetti Factory on the river. There were a couple of tents on the sidewalk, along with some grills, to make dinner around the corner and out of rubber bullet range of the Federal building (something I am sure I learned from the first protests). With one exception, it was a sleepy and bored group of about ten near the building. I took a selfie. I took photos of nothing happening.

 

One person, who I would say was out of control, was screaming obscenities at the building and the entrance. A group of vehicles, all scary-out-of-movie unmarked and dark windows SUVs and muscle cars came and went, and the two protestors confronted the guards and ICE agents and were escorted out of the way without contact. The person was all but jumping up and down and screaming. But that was ignored. I spoke with a protester, and the person was unsure of what to do, but they waved their sign and stood there. Eventually, the one-person confrontation ended. I found that the nearby building had signs asking not to damage them, as they were not Federal and certainly not ICE.

I did not think the President’s order to shoot-to-kill was appropriate, and I witnessed nothing that suggested it would be followed. I had my lunch a few blocks away, and my CT Scan was only a few blocks further. Hmmm.

I took public transit back. A demented street person walked in front of the Portland Street Car, which was already at its stop, and managed not to hit them by stopping a bit more abruptly. Yikes! The person then wandered through traffic and disappeared, stumbling here and there. The rest of my connections and trip were uneventful.

I did stand for twenty minutes in the Oregon Mist at the Beaverton Transit Center, and soon the little grass near me was full of ducks. Some flying just over my head. I was thinking a duck-face-plant would be unpleasant as my bus pulled up. I finished my walk home in the rain with my coat open, and I was getting slowly damp.

I took more than 6,000 steps today, which was good, and although tired, I was feeling better. I spoke with Deborah occasionally. She had some personal things to deal with. I did get to talk to her at the end of her day and say good night. I returned to the laundry and had some fruit for dinner. Later, I would add some cheese and crackers for a snack.

My CT Scan results showed no cancer, and that some issues, likely from the multiple surgeries, had faded. All excellent news. The best I could hope for. My weight has also fallen to 236, only 8 pounds away from my best. Better!

I read and slowed down as I was tired. I made the bed and crawled in. Clean sheets are always special. I read some more and soon was sleepy, and my mind glided out into the dark. No bad dreams and no waking until just before 6. I managed to fall back to sleep just minutes before my alarm.

Thanks for reading!