Author: alohawild

Friends, I include some of my issues with sadness or depression in this story. I share this to help me and others who suddenly find the world has lost its colors or flavor. I am managing and, like most folks over 50, it is impressive that I have not gone completely bonkers with all the health issues, deaths, and just WTF moments that I have now passed through. This is how I feel most of the time: here. But some days are like this: here.

I know that with every hello there is a goodbye, and sometimes there are too many goodbyes!

I had a headache and coughed when I woke. The cough faded, and soon the headache was in the background. I have lived with them all my life and can ignore them. I slept until around 8, then located the coffee I had assembled the evening before in the kitchen and headed into the office. There I began the blog. I also texted and later spoke to Deborah. We enjoy starting and ending our days together, even when three time zones away.

I returned to the kitchen after completing my usual tasks, which included reading the 100 or so emails, updating Quicken with all my transactions, and doomscrolling. I returned to the kitchen for a snack of bundt cake and saw the counter covered in ants. “They’re back!” In Oregon, you are constantly fighting ants. I sprayed them with cleaner and wiped up the mess. Ugh!

I returned to the blog as I was time-boxed by the later morning church. I managed to publish it, rang off with Deborah to finish, showered, and put on my Pride tie, green sweater vest, and white dress shirt. I boarded Air VW the Gray and soon arrived without issues at First United Methodist Church near the fountain in Beaverton.

I ushered, as is my habit now that Dan has moved to Vancouver, and nobody stepped up. I am the senior usher having out-lived all the ushers who taught the way they like to usher. Today, an event was held nearby, and many people asked to use the restroom. I directed them and offered them coffee. My tie and smile made them comfortable, and I offered them coffee. We also had a few late arrivals for church; I tried to provide them with coffee and bring it to them in the pews.

Dondrea gave a sermon that was uncomfortable with Paul ‘s letters’ usual place in conservative (if not blood-soaked) Christian church causes. Instead, Dondread addresses the more human aspect of Paul’s writing, which is about not being alone when things go bad. God and Jesus have your back, to coin a phrase. Dondrea instead went with a military phrase, “How can we make this more suck?” In other words, accept and embrace those hardest of moments (“embrace the suck”) of cancer, the bounced check, missed promotion, death of friends and family, and all the other failures, disappointments, and just pain the world and your health bring forth. It is not easy, nor can it be, but it is about us remembering God and Jesus (or what works for you, Dear Reader), friends and family, and church (again, or whatever works for you to connect to the other). Dondrea drew applause for her words (which you can see here, recommended).

After church and after some more usher duties, I headed home in Air VW the Gray, but first I stopped by 185th veggies and got some more fresh items. I unloaded the veggies and moved all the board games out of the cargo hold. I changed into a T-shirt and then made lunch.

I had a frozen entrée of Indian-style lamb and some naan, too. I reheated the naan in the oven and the tray in the microwave. I made two pieces of naan, but I should have done just one. My clothing is feeling a bit tight, and the scale says six pounds from beers and good food I have been making have returned to my frame. Oops. More walking and less beer, I think, will be my forward plan.

Aside: I find the carbon cost of shipping frozen naan all the way from India to be a questionable economic practice. I know it tastes like India to me, and if I were a non-resident Indian, I would buy it. Still, it is wasteful to freeze and ship bread halfway around the earth, but itis incredibly good and tastes like India.

I watched the new show Daredevil Reborn while eating and found it to be less impressive than advertised. But I decided I would try a few episodes to see if I get hooked. Later, I watched two more, and it was improving, but the last bit of shoot-someone-in-the-head I thought was too painful and might have turned me off. It seemed real. Yikes!

With lunch inside of me and the food excellent, I decided it was time to drop off Air VW the Gray at the mothership. There is a safety recall that, while not dangerous, would mean the car could turn into a brick if undercharged (I survived my trip driving to and back from California, not knowing that the EV might fail the couple of times I had it down to 10% charge).

I drove to the dealership (I had an appointment on Monday for drop-off), found a line of parked cars in the service area, added to the line, put my spare keys (with the original tag from the dealership still on it, including VIN, model, and color), and headed out walking. I saw the 57 bus pass me by as I was walking to the bus stop. The TriMet 57 bus runs the length of TV Highway from Beaverton Central to Forest Grove.

(Deborah said I looked sad in the picture and was worried).

My phone said I had 12 minutes to wait. I had not taken the 57 TriMet bus in years. I waited and watched the traffic go by. The bus arrived, and I boarded. The driver then directed me to the scanning area, where my virtual card was successfully processed. Yay! I looked, and $2.80 was deducted from my virtual card.

The bus was packed, meaning I had to sit next to someone, and others had to do the same. The bus stopped often, and soon people were standing. Everyone was ignoring each other, and most folks looked like they had been at work (various uniforms and tired expressions). I did not realize the buses were packed on Sunday afternoon, especially since so many people were working. I remember seeing a woman walk by me in a McDonald’s shirt; the McDonald’s was more than a mile away. People are working hard on Sunday, I realized.

Some folks got on and off the bus only a few miles later. Without other transportation, they are spending $2.80 each way. While $5.60 is less than some coffees I buy, it is a lot of cash after taxes for the $15.05 minimum wage in Oregon. To be precise, using ADP’s calculator for Oregon, four hours is just under $50 take-home pay (or just over $100 for 8 hours), meaning that TripMet costs more than 10% of the wages (and 5% for eight hours) for that day. I had a lot of respect for my fellow travellers; that is a hard gig.

I left the bus at 209th and then walked home from there. It is still another fifteen minutes, and I remember Susie used to do this walk for years. I saw all the places she tripped, and I was sad. Earlier, Dondrea’s sermon brought many moments back to me, Susie’s last ones with me, and tears flowed. The colors had run away, leaving me sad. I found the world, much like the salt in the Bible story, to be devoid of flavor and as worthless as dust to me. I just wanted to crawl into bed and hide.

I tried to find the colors again by reading and making tea. I noticed that my walking circle wasn’t closed on my phone. It was sundown, but I walked through the neighborhood seeing many doggies being walked. Tiny dogs jumped and barked, stretching their leashes, while larger doggies were too busy to notice me. Their owners were either apologizing or as aloof as their pets. Cats on their patrols ignored me or ducked into a bush to avoid the chance of contact.

The blackberries, a pest and import, were in full glorious berry treasures available to any creature, often on empty lots and untidy nature areas. Full of thorns and taller than me, they are a fire hazard as they are dried out inside and burn easily. I cut them down anytime in my lawn and collect the pine needles and clippings; fires are terrible here and unpredictable. Hot embers travel far!

The stone fruit was just beginning, and pears were already on the ground and weighing down the trees. Somewhere in my walk, the colors returned, and I felt better. Exercise can bring depression to an end. I forgot that, and I had not been walking for a week. Welcome back, Michael!

Returning home, I chop carrots, celery, and tear up lettuce for a large salad. I add some Greek-style olives and shredded cheese that had seen better days, and enjoy that for dinner. I make tea and have more cake later. I watch more of The Descriminating Gamer‘s reviews of some board games. I found Drachinifel‘s excellent video on the USS Maine explosion, which I watched until almost midnight. Drachinifel and The Descriminating Gamer are both YouTube channels I watch and recommend.

Here and there, I make some edits on my Fantasy Novel, but do not push the word count much higher.

It is late when I finish the story of the USS Maine and do not finish the dishes. The ants do find them. Ugh! But that is Monday’s story.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday ended around 11 with me crawling into bed. I had taken Air VW the Gray from Portland. I crossed the ramp that is higher than the Fremont Bridge roadway, about 175 feet above the river. I was flying on Highway 26 at 68 mph, but other vehicles were racing and flew by me on both sides, going much faster — at least 80, as the EV neared the top of the pass out of Portland. On many of my late evening trips on Portland’s highways, I find groups of cars racing.

We played a new board game, Richard’s second play of his latest Kickstarter acquisition, Stationfall. This is a new and surprisingly high-rated game; it is just being released and is a secret player game. The theme is a space station with a dark project, and it has 13 minutes left before it is destroyed by re-entry, literally stationfall. There is a random group of characters on the station; you play one main character and one supporting character. Some characters get victory points for escaping, others sacrifice themselves to stop the dark secrets from getting released, there is a subplot of murder, and outright murder will get you suspected. There is an option to reveal who you are actually playing.

The game has many rules, various rule books, complex victory conditions, and a pile of markers and add-ons. In other words, a Kickstarter SciFi dark game. Yes, there are soooo mannnny bits; Richard has a plastic container to separate them. Richard’s favorite type of game!

I tied for the win with Kathleen, with her Engineering trying to destroy the station before it crashes, and my Space Monkey surviving in an escape pod. Shawn, who had changed his character and stopped Kathleen from blowing up the station (much to her displeasure and forcing a tie), escaped in a pod. However, the Deathray was revealed as the dark project, and he was the first test subject; It worked.

We finished that about 9ish, not bad for a new game. Next, we played the card game Flip7. This is a card-counting game (Shawn and Kathleen can actually count them in their heads) with a push-your-luck process. I won once, but missed my last draw in the last hand to overwhelm Kathleens’ score. Instead, Kathleen won three and I one. She had, despite the crazy play in Stationfall, a good night.

Before taking Air VW the Gray to Richard’s house, I was at Lucky Labrador Brew Pub writing and playing a solo game. I had taken the EV to Portland and arrived there with plenty of parking at noon. The place was empty with only me as their customer. Portland was filled with events and parties; I knew of three I was missing.

Instead, I had games and writing to do. I got a beer (and a bowl of salted peanuts) once I realized that they were open. The bartender told me he was hungover, and with the small crowd, he went home. The manager and cook ran the bar and food. I returned to my Fantasy novel, revised it, and wrote about another 500 words. This takes longer than writing the blog, as there was a lot of editing and some looking out into space to think about the story and how to describe it. I spent until 3ish writing, and the third chapter has grown to 2,000 words; the story is starting to move toward the end of the chapter. I got a salad and another beer. I should have stuck to one, and that might explain why I couldn’t add up my scores later in our game (Kathleen was concerned that I could no longer do basic math in my head. I kept missing the carry, and she suggested more practice).

I played Nemo’s War, a large solo board game (and a Kickstarter, meaning there are extra pieces, rules, and cloth bags, and an optional cloth board), and this, along with the beer, left me a bit fuzzy (see previous problem with math). As I played, more and more folks found their way to Lucky Labrador Brew Pub. I explained the game to a few folks and managed to complete the game without the automatic loss. I scored low, earning 162 points, which put me at a Failure level. I was a hundred points away from a good score, but I had avoided the automatic loss (my last play included an automatic loss). Next time, and less beer!

Before this, I was at the house, rising late — closer to 8 than 7 — with me rolling over at 4, 5, 6, 6:30, and 7, as the sun woke me over and over. I should have just gotten up, but the soft bed, silky sheets, and warm covers seemed to hold me in. I could not resist; like a turtle on its back. The coffee, much needed, was waiting for me, Equal Exchange brand.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

The morning started with me rising, as usual, around 7 and getting coffee. I had assembled the coffee the night before, and it was brewing when I got a cup. I returned to my office and started on my usual tasks, sipping my bitter coffee from Equal Exchange. The darkness reminds me of all the work liberals like me still have to do to help the world discover Justice with Compassion. Doom scrolling (what liberals call reading the news), I gulp the better beverage, there is so much work to do! We have moved a convicted pedophile to a nicer prison, and we (we are Democracy, and so it is ‘we’) sent more nuclear submarines towards Russia. Then we fired the person whose economic numbers made us look bad. The stock market crashes, and there is a new possibility of the market staying down while interest rates also crash; a nightmare situation for retired people like me. There is not enough bitter coffee for this news, and my brain freezes into WTF-mode.

Instead of predicting doom and nuclear war, I write the blog and hurry. I plan to have the air conditioning and furnace checked, cleaned, and ready for late August (sizzling here) and winter (cold in February here). I completed the blog, but forgot to publish it to Facebook and sending out the usual email, shower, and all of that.

I retrieve Air VW the Gray from the landing bay (or garage, to some) and move it to the street. The tech arrived early and began dismantling and cleaning the furnace. It was a bit dirty, I was told, but in perfect working order. The AC compressor (the spinning thing in the backyard) was good except that it is on the north side and collecting some moss (I thought it was just trees that had moss on the north side, though here in the Pacific Northwest, it is more like heavier moss than just on the north side). He hosed that off and checked everything. I learned that there are 30A breakers outside in a small box on the side of the house. The cooling was excellent, better than he usually sees. I bought 150% of the requirement to keep the costs (and repairs) lower.

There was a sonic sound, which was why I had them check it out. What I learned was that the cold air return grill was vibrating and creating the sound. That was a surprise. I thought I had a fan issue. No, just need to bend the metal grill until it stops. The vent cover has ‘tuned’ to the vibration. If it gets loud, I just hit the grill with something, like a cane. I put on my grumpy-old-man mode when I do that, “Stop that, you infernal machine!”

With my new grill-tuning process, I paid the bill, $395, and they will return in a year with two visits, one for the AC and one for the furnace. Feeling much like a responsible adult and homeowner, I was now ready for the sizzle coming and the more distant freeze. All set!

I found the frozen pizza that I acquired at The Market of Choice grocery store. I like meatballs on my pizza, and they had the Screaming Sicilian version of that. I roast it in my oven, the top one, and retrieve a meatball that fell off and was sizzling on the bottom. I did not sing the song about my meatball rolling away.

The pizza, or allergies, or just too much reading, triggered a migraine. This one was strange, as I did not have the headache, but I did experience the vision flashes, sensitivity to light, and sudden sleepiness. I rested, slept, and woke with it still in place. Usually, relaxing, sleeping, and waking were enough to relax the muscle cramps that cause the problem.

I made dinner of reheated pasta and Italian-style sweet sausage. That, oddly, seemed to start the changes that heralded the exit of the migraine! Yay!

I soon was ready to take Air VW the Gray, down to 59% charge, to Movies on TV, our local Regal theater, to see F1. I was meeting Joan S for the movie. I drove through the new strip mall and some new housing in Reed Crossing. It is lovely, though the houses are packed in close. So far, there is no panic selling due to the layoffs and Trump’s policies. Houses with four bedrooms, squeezed into 2,000 sqft and two stories, go for $650K.

Joan met me at the movies, and we bought our tickets separately. Soon, we were chatting, waiting for the movie, Formula One (F1) to start. It was a glorious movie with complex characters and various subplots and keeping you interested the whole time. Highly recommended.

We chatted outside after the movie until sunset, and I was ecstatic that the vision issues and migraine effects were gone. I had taken painkillers, relaxed during the movie, and the problem faded away. Excellent.

Returning home, I had a piece of the cake I had made the night before with a cup of tea to relax. I managed to write a paragraph of my SciFi novel. Tiny, but something. I beat the cold air return with a cane, “Infernal machine,” and went to bed and soon slept. I don’t remember my dreams, but it seemed like only seconds had passed since I fell asleep until sunrise started, and I woke. I managed to roll over a few times and sleep.

Thanks for reading!

 

I had plans on Thursday. I had lunch with Scott W and dinner with Z and Dondrea on Thursday. A busy day for me. But first, I had to write the blog and get started. I woke up feeling uncomfortable, cold, and congested. I had woken for just as the sunrise would start, but rolled over and slept poorly for the next couple of hours. Crawling out of bed at 7, I found the coffee already running in the timed coffee pot. I had the last not totally black banana with a Keto English Muffin (I bought Keto by mistake) with marmalade to add to the coffee.

I get going on the blog and stop, and first write a card to Mom Wild. I then walk it out to ensure that it makes it to the mailbox, me in my robe and slippers, before the mail is delivered. I want a different card to arrive at Mom Wild’s place every morning. Something to look forward to for her.

Aside: Mariah wrote a blog entry about her recent trip. Please enjoy it here.

The blog just flows, and I manage to finish it before I have to dress to make the 11:45 lunch with Scott. I read more about Assyrian history and approach the interaction between the Ancient kings of Israel and Judah. In the Hebrew scriptures, the Assyrians are the bad guys. Later that evening, I began to read about the connection, specifically that in the 800s BCE, the Assyrians created an image of King Jehu, the only surviving one found so far (here). I am teaching Sunday School in September for the new member class and want to spend time on the connection to archaeological finds, hard dates that we know, and the impact on our understanding of the Old Testament.

I met Scott W at the McMenamins Cedar Hills location. We have both been traveling, and we will miss most of August as Scott has to take a trip that bookends my trip to Queens, NY. We catch up on travels and our adventures. Scott is thinking that Iceland might be a good intermediate stop on his next European trip. I recommend the Golden Circle bus tour with Sky Lagoon and our hotel (here), Hotel Reykjavik Centru (careful, there are others with like names, Aðalstræti 16, 101 Reykjavík, Iceland).

Scott W and I talk about money and our concerns. We are not seeing a positive impact of Trump policies; we had hoped (even as liberals) that Trump was right and things would be good, but instead see clouds starting. Layoffs, chaos, and falling interest rates will not improve things. The loss of numerous government jobs, the reduction of services, and the failure of infrastructure to aid in emergencies (the local Texas response to the flood is appalling, and FEMA appears to be a no-show). We are staying in defensive positions, but we did notice Nike’s stock price is slowly increasing (we have options that are underwater or have weak payoffs that could become valuable if Nike’s stock takes off).

After lunch, I went home, napped a bit, read more, and did a little. Retired.

Rising, I drove to the Food Carts at Beaverton Central and met Z and Dondrea for dinner. Z had poke and Dondrea had Étouffée. I had Raman-style noodles with lots of extras. My usual place is gone; this happens in the world of cart food, and I found a new excellent provider of Raman-style noodles. It was hot, but once we had food done, Dondrea had a cider and I a Red Zepplin beer, we tried Ticket to Ride: London. This is a simplified version of the Euro game and was fun and fast. Dondrea won with me not getting enough tickets and Z getting too many that she could not complete (causing negative points). It is a light train game (though it uses buses) with some diminishing resources, but generally a race to complete the routes before a player runs out of buses.

After we played that, I headed home, read more, and then made a bundt cake from a box mix from King Arthur Flour. I cleaned the kitchen and then read more, purchased a newish book listing all the dynasties of Egypt (the Internet was just referring to the book), and read more about the artifacts found that connect to the stories in the Bible. I was saddened to learn that a museum featuring replicas of some of these famous findings on a Christian college campus had closed. I would have driven down to Salem to see them.

I went to bed, read, and then slept. I have no memory of dreams. No wandering in dream versions of Ancient Israel, or Assyria, or Indian Jones moments, finding the latest text proving Solomon and his Mines exists (and a map, of course), only to have someone steal it from me. No memory at all.

Thanks for reading!

 

Wednesday was a tough morning. I woke up with a bad cough, feeling like something had sat on my chest (like an old engraving of a nightmare sitting on you) and might still be there. Not a pleasant start!

Deborah, who often calls after I send a text of ‘good morning’ to start our remote day together, noticed the cough. I went for the works: inhailer, ibpropen, and Tylnon. This often can stop the inflammation, which is the real cause of the cough.

I write the blog, but I find it a bit of a struggle to finish. I am tired too. All I want to do is curl up with a blanket. I do remember to write Mom Wild a card, the last of the cards I bought at the Portland Art Museum; I will need to get new ones. I walked it, in my robe and slippers, out to the mailbox. My neighbors no longer harass me for being in a robe in slippers in the morning; nothing says ‘retired’ like a robe and slippers in the late morning!

The blog is finally published. It was hard to finish it. The exhaustion is worse. I also discovered that the English Muffins that I purchased at The Market of Choice are the Keto version. They are weird. I have one with marmalade anyway. I remember that I found them away from the bakery. Oops.

I log on to TreasuryDirect and try to change my bank settings (I did not notice that the account number needed to be updated after US Bank changed my savings to a plain savings account). I locked the account due to my missing a security question, then called the help desk. They resolved the issue except for the bank account. I then corrected the problem and ordered another T-Bill purchase. I am waiting for it to complete before doing another.

Thinking the warm water from a shower might help my lungs, I shower, shave, and soon am dressed. I am still exhausted, but it seemed to help. I decide, F**K It!, and make lunch from scratch. I fried a nice pork chop and made mac and cheese from a Portland-based pasta company (both from Market of Choice), but I put too much milk and somehow undercooked the pasta. Yikes, I should be able to make mac and cheese! The pork chop, with some Cajun-style seasoning, was terrific, making up for the disaster of mac and cheese.

I stumbled upon an old spy movie, Funeral in Berlin (1966), for about $9, and I ended up purchasing and watching it while cooking and eating lunch. It is also a book, yet unread, from a favorite writer, Len Deighton (though I only like the dramatizations). I did not know that Michael Caine did a set of these films, most based on Deighton books. I will start looking for them. 

I enjoyed the 1960s filming of Berlin and the view of the airport, the Wall, the clothing, and the cars. The story is full of betrayals, murders, and cynicism, which makes these old stories so interesting to me. No Hollywood happy ending here, just more of the Cold War burning on. It is an acquired taste; not recommended except for the images and the surprising betrayals. Some of these movies/stories have been redone as series. I will try to find the 1960s movies with Michael Caine.

Corwin stopped by after I had had lunch, and we headed to The 649. I was feeling much better from the painkillers, cooking, and eating my lunch. Crystal was bartending with Hana. I had the bread pudding dessert with coffee while Corwin had a large lunch. Cystal was happy to see some of the photos from Iceland and hear about Deborah and my trip.

Corwin headed out, and I stopped by McDonald’s and got a dietary sin of a small chocolate shake and large fries on the way to First United Methodist Church, Beaverton in Air VW the Gray. I arrived early, consumed my wicked but delicious repast, and soon joined Z in a two-person board game of Concordia on one of the smallest maps, Balearica. This map also has only ships for placement. Land-based colonists are placed only by the Colonist card, but this board is for two players (maybe three, but that would be really messy, and there are more fun choices for three). We had to end early (as the choir finished early), and I only won by four points, which could have been made up by one turn of Z’s.

The game is too close to call, with the score being stopped. But it was fun. We played with Forum, but not the fish market. I will have to learn the exceptional rules for the Rome and other maps. It would be fun to add a few more moving parts, as Z and I know this game well. There is also a solo and automated version to create a third player. More fun to come.

I returned home, finished the spy movie, read, wrote more of my SciFi novel (just a paragraph), and went to bed. I was falling asleep in the middle of Assyrian history again. I had good dreams, all of which are nearly forgotten in detail, but I recall they were about traveling. I was surprised to find that my dream travels were not about being lost and trying to find my way back; instead, I was enjoying the journey.

Thanks for reading!