Author: alohawild

Tuesday is my day to travel to Portland to Richard’s house for an early board game. These are cooperative board games with storylines. James brings the game from his collection, and now we are playing, with an app to control the play, Tainted Grail. This is a cooperative team game with a dark theme of SciFi and Fantasy set in a re-write of the Arthur legends. We had not played for a month as I had travel, The Machine repairs, and then some summer breaks from Richard.

Air VW the Gray is ready to take me to Portland after I clean up and dress. The blog was just started, and I saved it. I take my Apple with me. I left early at 8:25 and managed to reach Richard’s early, the first time in a while. The driving was slow, but once off Highway 26, it went fast. I will try to start by 8:30 now.

(Yes, I play the Druid Maggot).

We had some trouble remembering the rules, but my usual DM thinking, years of running games, helped me recall the play, unwind the previous session in my mind, and explain some points. We soon were back into the game, though I did tell some stories of my travel in Iceland, and that led to James remembering some hiking in California. We spent the morning and into the afternoon finding our way in this dark simulation of a haunted and magical land. My character took a beating. Richard had built up his character with many items and was now quite powerful, able to handle many battles by himself. I joined in a few and managed to help a few times. This gave me more experience, which is the currency to increase your character, but not any new items. I need six experience markers to establish an ability that is constantly appearing on combat cards; until then, I have many actions I cannot take in battles.

We explored the world, and we were of two minds (mine and Richard’s). I believed we needed to move East and re-establish our starting location. Richard thought we should explore, fight, and strengthen our characters, and learn new secrets of this world. Both ideas do overlap, and I do explore and fight when I can. While the game is slow going for my taste (few think of D&D as fast, but compared to these board game RPGs, my play and DM-ing is rocket fast). We reached the end of the turn, and it was 2PM, and that was enough for me. We packed it up (there is a ‘save’ process for the physical game).

I parked on the street in Air VW the Gray, and walked over. I was happy that folks in Portland were now honoring the crosswalk (I remember having to walk out and halt traffic for Susie before). I found a table at The Broadway Grill and ordered a meatball-including calzone, The Spicy East Coast. This was great with their heavy Mr. Toad’s Wild Red beer. This is a favorite of mine, but I did get a bit dizzy as I got the beer before the food. I finished the blog and talked to Deborah a few times. The food was great, and soon I was headed home in end-of-day traffic.

Once home without any challenges or missing paint on the EV, I reviewed my financial items, cleaned up some transfers, and added my new Delta Amex to Quicken. I also tried to buy a Treasure Bill, but later learned that my account number had changed at US Bank for my savings account. I forgot they had changed it after my bait-and-switch rate expired, which made me unhappy. Oops. It was the end of the auction, so there was no way to correct it. On Wednesday morning, I connected with the TreasuryDirect help desk and got some things corrected, but that will be in the next blog.

Linda sent me pictures of her frig pickles. She has a large harvest of cucumbers, and I suggested she peek at Joshua Weissman’s cookbook (I gave a copy to Meg for a questionable choice of texts for a then twelve-year-old). She followed the recipe and process and produced an excellent-looking set of pickles. She did question my aging and brownish now pickles (they are great).

There was an earthquake, and I called and texted family and Deborah to let them know that the resulting tsunami would hit here, but I was not near the coast and would not head there. Hawaii had chaos as they had no idea how bad the waves would be; the waves did little damage and caused flooding, and I watched online as the waves hit. I went to bed when the event was not too bad (the waves were about a meter tall).

I choked on a glass of water and inhaled some of it. This caused me to start coughing, which seemed to stay with me. It was hard to sleep. I had another terrible dream where I was trapped, crawling through narrow locations and suffocating. I wake, and I am drowning in the air. I get up, find my emergency inhaler, have some water, and take some ibuprofen to reduce any swelling. I am wheezing now. Ugh!

I sit in the living room chair and try to nap, which I manage to do, and then I get a text from Deborah. No problems from the tsunami this far inland. At sunrise, always thinking of Dad Wild when I see another sunrise, I head back to bed, manage to not think about wheezing, drowning, or breathing, and sleep until 8! I wake with a cough, but it is an irritation and lack-of-sleep cough. Not COVID-19 or a cold.

Thanks for reading. I am glad to see another day and a sunrise.

 

 

 

Since the end of my working life on the morning of 20 April 2024, Mondays have stood out not as the start of the work week, but as a free, quiet morning. What Saturdays were like when I was a kid, rushing to watch the cartoons, with no plans. Later, at noon, I would play Dungeons & Dragons, starting on Saturday until 1 or 2 in the morning.  I remember “Elric” listing off all the monsters we defeated, magic items taken, and treasure counts, and David W looking up the experience points late at night for the monsters. We would then discover if our characters had gone up any levels and grumble or rejoice. Back in the 1980s, Saturday was a glorious day, and now so is Monday for me.

My friends and family with jobs are back to work, and the rush that is the weekend is over. Now I do not have to rush through all my tasks and fun in just two days, like others do. I do laundry on Mondays and Fridays, but with The Machine still broken and the wash done Saturday morning, that was off the list. I wrote and finished the blog covering Sunday, and then read. I dressed, wrote a card for Mom Wild to mail on Monday, and soon I was ready to tackle the rest of my free day.

I headed to Happy Panda for a Chinese-style lunch. I like their food, though it is American creations. The little bowl of hot and sour soup, a veggie spring roll, and chicken with cashews full of chopped water chestnuts seems to appeal to me. I looked at world cruises, having spoken to Deborah about them earlier. Although it is hard to imagine spending 100+ days on a cruise ship (for $50K for two via Cunard with a balcony), the experience still appeals to me as incredible. I suspect I would start helping out with waiting on tables, cooking, and cleaning to find something new to do between stops. Start on my captain’s license and all that. Just daydreaming while eating my excellent lunch and searching on my laptop.

I returned home and discovered an email from Fidelity that my 401K balance was too low for them to keep, as I was no longer employed by Nike. Hmmmm. I had transferred this already. I called and waited ten minutes to talk to Trent, and he explained that a residual amount generated by my previous holding had been added to my previously zero balance. With little effort, this will be sent as yet another check for US Bank Wealth Management to add to their holding for me in my IRA.

I had a headache, and the food helped, and the IRA stuff, getting something fixed, brightened my day. I also talked to Sam at US Bank, who manages my IRA, and he is happy to meet and take the check. I headed to Market of Choice to get some supplies, including toilet paper, which was down to one last roll! I drove the few minutes to the new store in the new strip mall in Reed’s Crossing. It is a fantastic store, though not as cheap as some, and I managed to get overpriced Italian-style sweet sausage and cheap porkchops (for another day). I also found boxes of dried pasta made in Portland (I love to get local stuff). Paul Newman’s Sock-it-to-me sauce was on special, and I got a jar.

Corwin was at the house when I returned. He was using my tools to repair his phone. He had dropped it. Lucky for him, he was able to reseat the SIM card, and the phone was back. He headed out.

Kenneth Branagh does an excellent Hercule Poirot and is willing to make some good updates to the stories and characters. I purchased the online version of Murder on the Orient Express, which was a fun update of the book. I then ran that on the laptop while I did the dishes, and then started heating the sauce from a bottle, fried the sausage to a nice brown, and boiled the pasta. I also had garlic bread that I forgot, and it was dark and crispy when I finally remembered it. It was still good.

I had too many bowls of pasta and slices of bread while the re-worked and slightly too Hollywood version of the tale spun out. I would recommend the 1974 version as closer to the book, but this version by Kenneth Branagh is a fantastic spectacle of the current movie style. Kenneth Branagh’s Murder on the Nile is, in my opinion, his best reworking and recreation of the 1920s-30s story, with significant rewrites of entire sections. A Haunting in Venice rewrites and changes the setting of an excellent story–Recommended.

I look forward to his next Hercule Poirot in 2027!

Stuffed, I did all the dishes and rested for a bit. It was not late. While cooking, I discovered there was wine left, which may help explain why I forgot about the garlic bread. It was a 90-rated red wine! I did say good night to Deborah as she was already in bed. We also learned a new word from my new history book: irenic. Meaning aimed at peace. It was used to describe the first Assyrian times.

I managed to add a paragraph to my SciFi story and read more Assyrian history until I was nodding off and confusing the names of the kings, cities, and sites.

I quickly fell asleep once in my PJs and under the covers and had taken my pills. I woke up in the morning to find the AC set to low, freezing me for the first time. Hmm.

Thanks for reading!

 

Sunday started with me rising about 7 and getting coffee. I try to start my day with a text and a call to Deborah, even when we are three time zones away. I had to be in church early to provide information on the refresh of the entrance way, fireside room, and little kitchen. I still had plenty of time to talk to Deborah and write the blog.

Coffee was prepared beforehand and was ready when I got up. I was surprised that I could find 1,300 words to describe a relatively quiet Saturday without an aside or other commentary. Still, it was nice to write without feeling any pressure, other than the need to finish within a few hours.

I had returned to my SciFi story, and I was feeling more relaxed while writing the blog. For me, writing is a muscle, and when I don’t write stories, I seem to start feeling anxious and lose some of the pleasure of just telling stories. Writing the blog begins to turn into work. Once I return to some Fantasy, Horror, or SciFi, I seem to unwind and can write the blog as if I were telling a story in front of a campfire with friends.

I have finished another one-third of a chapter in my Fantasy book. I am not sure it will ever be finished, let alone published, but it is fun to create a Fantasy setting, and the tool Scrivener is helping. It is slow going as I want every sentence to be good.

There were a few clouds in the sky, but no rain in the forecast, and it would be another 50°F to 80°F day. I shower, and all that, and dress in a dress shirt, a Pride tie, a green sweater vest, blue slacks, and a straw hat. While Oregon is a come-as-you-are style place, and our pastor often wears Hawaiian shirts, shorts, and sandals, I go the other way and try to look neat and well turned out.

I have D&D stuff already in Air VW the Gray with my now fourth-level sorcerer, Carter. The character is named after the famous magician here. I also took the color copies of the image of the update to the church. I stopped by Donut Day for some donut holes to share while I stood there. I get a few customers before church and collected some feedback.

I ushered, and MichaelR gave the sermon, which was about Paul and his message of hope. Paul is often quoted out of context instead of Jesus to justify an intolerant and elitist version of Christianity. As many people point out, the Sermon on the Mount is not what conservative Christians demand to be posted in courts and school rooms. MichaelR is trying to point out that Paul says that Jesus and Christianity bring hope, especially in difficult times. Often, Paul’s passages are used to justify that Christianity is the only valid hope and as justification for the terrible things done in wars of conquest and purges for social purity. And while MichaelR did a great job showing the hope the words can bring, I still see them splattered with the blood and ashes of the innocent, though taken out of context and mistranslated (another reason I studied some Greek). I will try to find hope and reconsider these passages; I want to reclaim them from the evil men and women who have misused them.

I helped finish up the service by assisting with putting the offering away and chatting with a few people. I headed off to lunch and decided that the Beaverton Carts would work for me at Beaverton Central. Jumbalya with a beer was my choice for a hot day. This version, with suggestions for places to eat in New Orleans for my next trip from the preyeror, including Brigtsens, was spicy, red, and sharp. The sausage was excellent, and the shrimp were cleaned and small. I still prefer my version, which is more brown, but the red version had bright flavors and was good.

I returned home, and with the church stuff, beer, food, and hot sun, I was soon asleep. I managed to remove my shoes and ties before closing my eyes, and I discovered it was a few hours later when I opened my eyes again. I had read some more Assyrian history from my new book; I have finished the 30+ page introduction.

I rise and find my way again. I have an hour before D&D at M@’s place. I cut roses for M@’s wife, Niki, who just had a birthday. My roses are enjoying the late summer, and I have many blooms of different scents and colors to combine. The cut flowers are all carefully wrapped in many sheets of paper towels, as my roses have the most wicked thorns.

Our usual group met at M@’s, some of us having played together for over twenty years, and we managed to play out the fight of a big battle, thereby driving off some of the bad guys once we had defeated the main villain. In our story, we supplied maps and details of the area to the various not-that-evil cults to help reduce the truly evil one; we may return (at a higher level) and see if we can help more. We returned to the Infinite Staircase to discover that one of our players’ patrons is the spirit of the stairs. We start at the next doorway for the next challenge. It was a good night.

I returned home and soon was curled up with Assyrian History and the Player’s Handbook.

 

 

 

 

Saturday was often board gaming-heavy, with me playing two or three games before getting to Richards to likely learn and play some new super Euro-style board game. Today, I did not touch a meeple, pick a card, or arrange resources all day. It felt strange.

Richard, like many folks, was busy on some trip for the summer. Kathleen, another gaming friend, had returned from a trip but was still busy untangling her return with lawn work and other mundane tasks. Later in the day, while drinking a beer and writing at The 649, I saw a group of people so young they could be my kids playing Mothership. I was envious that they got to try out the new, low-complexity sci-fi horror role-playing game. They were a happy, clean-cut group, not what I had imagined as players for this make-you-cry-or-scream style game. I managed to get lots done on Saturday and spent many hours talking to Deborah on the phone. It was a good day.

Starting with waking too early and getting going before 7. Coffee was assembled, and I pushed the button to make it as it was before 7, my coffee-making time. There were some clouds in the sky, but I could see that the sunrise was in process, and that made me think of Dad Wild. “There are only so many sunrises left. I try to see them all now,” he told me once. And, while I roll over and sleep through sunrise, I wake for most.

With coffee made, I dress, wash my face, comb my hair, and collect my laundry. I strip the sheets from the bed (I miss one) and add that to the collection. Hangers, detergent (poured from a large Costco container into a smaller one for travel), dryer sheets, a laptop, and an iPhone are all assembled. It takes two trips to Air VW the Gray to be prepared, as coffee is poured into a travel cup, and it is best not to balance hot coffee over clothing, laptops, and myself.

The travel time is short, I unload the cargo, and the place is busy. It is a different crowd that I have seen before, but today is Saturday and not a workday when I usually do my laundry. I discover I  am not the only gray-haired person doing laundry for one. I see that older men, each alone, are also doing their wash. I think about them. Will I someday be in some rented space without a laundry machine and have to, with my cane, bring my wash to the mat? They seem happy, clean, dry, and not hungry — maybe that will be okay.

I turn a $20 into quarters, and a man asks me immediately to buy him some food, pointing at a dispensing machine. All the sound and talking seem to stop, and I feel it is more of a test than a request. “I must do my laundry,” I say and walk away, and the sounds start again. Being aggressively panhandled was not something I cared for. I look for the guy later, and he just walked away (apparently, he is not welcome there).

I took four smaller washing machines (I could have done three) for over $3 each. The larger machines are in demand, and I am not interested in running everything together for over $7. It is less than thirty minutes for the washers. I manage to find a cart, supplied by the laundromat, and also score a pair of mid-sized dryers when a mom and her daughter finish with them. Shirts and pants in one machine, and the rest in the other.

An hour of spinning allows me to write the blog. The crowd is a mix of Spanish-speaking people who seem confused by the process and older Americans like me who are here to get’er done. The attendant, an older gal in homemade clothing, steps up and helps them when their washer halts. It is leaking as they have not properly closed it. I finished my shirts early. I like to have them finish drying on hangers, and there were 30 minutes left on my dryer. I got one of the Spanish-speaking families to use the dryer, saving them 50 cents.

I write and wait. I am not focused on writing as the new families seem to tell a story, and I watch. I feel for folks buying soap and drinks priced profitably for the owners, but not cruelly high (soap is a buck, and food and drinks are two bucks). I see a family find a nearby grocery and bring drinks. Later, after collecting my remaining clothing, which is now dry, folded, and neatly packed into my basket, I see them eating lunch at the nearby taco cart. They wave, happy to see someone finish.

I take the washing home, finish the blog, shower, and all that. I discovered I missed a sheet (F**k). There are no plans, and I feel at loose ends. I head to The 649. Natalia is bartending, and when she is free, I show her a collection of photos from Iceland on my iPhone. She is enchanted, and Iceland has now moved up on her list (she travels internationally often). My usual beer is not on tap, but she recommends their summer ale; it works. I have the veggie soup with a scoop of chopped chicken added.

I write my Fantasy story in Scrivener. I am disappointed that a few words of text are missing. I will be more careful saving my work. I return to my story, often looking out into space as I write the narrative in my head, which seems to take forever to find its way into the text. This part of the story is a conflict and is hard for me.

Only a thousand words, but the story is moving now. I resolved the conflict in the story, but I am worried that I only made an outline of the conflict. I will have to rework it, I think, to make it more real. I also did not write long, colorful descriptions, and I may need to insert that into the text, as well. Overall, it still seems more stream of consciousness than a story. Still, the bones are there, and just going forward is essential.

I ordered hummus and coffee after two beers and 1,000 words. I add a few more bits to the story and correct a few mangled sentences. Grammarly or I did some damage. Generally, I do not let Grammarly update the SciFi stuff (only letting it suggest minor fixes), as it often reverses the meaning of my work and ruins the paragraph. It seems that Grammarly AI stuff is trained on boring text, and it just removes content if I let it at the SciFi or Fantasy text. Yikes!

I head back across Beaverton after paying the bill and saying goodnight to Natalia. Next, Barnes & Noble was expensive. I buy four magazines, The Economist, and technical electronic and programming stuff, including Make, and a UK-based electronic magazine I enjoy. Make has at least two projects I want to find time to do. Maybe I will find the time. I also find Assyria: The Rise and Fall of the World’s First Empire. I was unaware that a new history book with footnotes and real research existed. While many people trust the Internet for history, I prefer a two-inch-thick book with notes and reviews. I am excited and bought it and, putting aside the SciFi book, started in. I have already learn new things. For example, translations of Assyrian texts are available in specific texts, but all of them are also online and being revised and updated on the online site. Excellent! I check footnotes and translations. I am not mistrustful, I just like to dig deep.

With the sand and dust of Assyria blowing in my mind and names like Sargon and lost Akkad flashing in my memory, I start to sleep to dreams now forgotten. Thanks for reading.

 

Friday was not too hot, and as usual, there was no rain. The clouds burn off by mid-morning, giving us a 50s start and an 80s finish for our summer days. We are now on the other side of summer, and the wasps and other bugs seem to be in a hurry to be ready for the rains and gray that is our winter here in the Greater Portland Area.

I decided that Friday morning would not be laundry day at the local Laundromat at 185th and TV Highway. I spent much of the morning writing and chatting with Deborah, an excellent distraction. As the morning ran on I decided I had stayed in the house enough and I needed to get out. I served myself a banana and 1/2 a pot of liberal Equal Exchange brand coffee. I was bouncing now!

It was still morning, and I took the Air VW to the nearby MAX station, scanned my virtual card, and was soon on my way to Portland. Today’s MAX car had no drama or passengers arguing with themselves. Some folks process by speaking, and you get to hear their struggles with the world. I feel for them.

I read my book and was oblivious. I looked up and a woman had left a large bag on the train. I called to her and she waved and said it was OK. She then, as I have done, popped off the train, scanned her card, and hurried back on. Yes, sometimes I forget too, or I did not scan; you have to check. However, it did cause my survival instincts to kick in. Some of the other folks in the MAX looked concerned when I called it out, and were visibly relieved at the favorable resolution. Nobody likes it when someone leaves a large bag on the train next to you!

I went back to reading. I brought a book I purchased from the author, signed, at the UFO Festival in McMinnville, Oregon. It was the thinnest of the ones I bought and had larger print too. Yes!

The writing is bright and friendly about a slightly corrupt younger woman living in Paris, selling antiques that are of questionable provenance (or simply looted). It is written in the first person, and the woman describes her clientele as wealthy, enjoying her ability to often get what they want; she admits she is a fence for looted antiquities. I have enjoyed the start, but it has taken a strange direction, and I will see how it works. The writing is fun, if not playful. I have something to learn from this author if the book works for me. More to come.

I got off at the Library stop and met a little boy who told me he was proud to be 2, and I could tell this was a big trip for him with his father. His father, I could tell, was proud of how well his son was handling the MAX. Just wide-eyed and happy.

I saw them disembark and then head towards the library, I think, while I headed towards the Portland Art Museum (PAM), yes, Dear Reader, we call it ‘PAM’ like the name. I walked through the park built over a deep, newish parking garage, and learned that the fountain is dedicated to teachers. It is a wonderful, welcoming dancing fountain for hot days. I also saw that the chessboard was set up, but an orange cone was in place of a missing pawn on the black side.

Passing on chess and saw a pair of men play cornhole, Portland sets these games up for folks many mornings. I headed to the museum and soon was enjoying the French Impressionists. I was happy that the European collection, although modest, was on display upstairs. PAM is undergoing a significant rebuilding process, as are many museums, as they strive to find their future. I am not involved enough in PAM to understand the planning. I just know that many works were in storage for years, which led me to let my membership lapse until last year.

I have decided to return and pay another $80 for another annual membership. I also raided the gift store during a 50% off sale, as it is moving (again). I send a card to Mom Wild every day and need some new ones. I stayed for only an hour or so, enjoying the Impressionists (well, many are more formally Post-Impressionists), and saw my favorite artist, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec’s sketch. He was born a bit more than 100 years before me, but I always imagine drinking with him and living a bohemian lifestyle in late-1800s Paris. Much like a Woody Alan movie, Midnight in Paris.

PAM, never having the money for oils, focused on paper and has an excellent collection of sketches and prints. Monet’s practice sketch of sailboats was on display, too. PAM’s collection of Japanese prints and comic books is impressive (and yes, they have The Wave).

I did see the dark on dark ox and cart by Van Gogh, which is one of the worst paintings on the walls, likely worth millions. The docent informed me that the painting is an early work, and the dark style hints at the Dutch masters he was trying to copy. Rembrandt’s and others’ dark shadow works. Here. I am happy to gain a better understanding of the work.

Next, I headed back to the center of Portland and then took the Green MAX for a single stop. There I found Grits and Gravy for lunch. I had another breakfast there. The place was busy, and I took a seat at the counter. The food was terrific; I had the so-called small breakfast.

I had no change, and I walked by a man whose clothing and hair suggested he was homeless. He was just standing there. I felt bad that I had nothing to give him; he had not asked for anything. I walked by him again when I realized I had left my at in Grits and Gravy. I nodded to him. Next, while I am waiting for my MAX, he is swearing and yelling profanities and is close to violent. He directs this at folks having breakfast at Grits and Gravy. He calms as folks start to react, reach for phones, and leave. My instincts were right not to interact. Hmmm.

Next, I headed again on the Green MAX under a free transfer to the mostly defunct Chinatown. There, I tried The Society Hotel and scored a $5 margarita and a seat in their roof garden. Excellent! A new place. Sadly, there was a party at 2ish, and I had to give up my shady seat, but I was finishing my drink.

My membership at the Chinese Garden had run out. I re-upped it (remembering to keep the recipe) and walked the peaceful garden and pond. It was sunny and hot now, and the dragonflies were cutting paths in the air just above the water. One sat long enough for a portrait to be taken!

The Koa were swimming here and their. There was music; an erhu was being played by the pond. It was so peaceful (except for the loud train whistles that are non-stop in Portland).

Calm and relaxed, I found my way back to the Red MAX that would take me back to my local MAX station and read on the train. It was not yet busy as it was still mid-afternoon. I soon returned home.

There, I managed to get my old gas grill working again. Only a few burners are working. I grill some chicken thighs (skinless and without bones). I make couscous and wilted beans to go with dinner.  I sliced and cooked mushrooms to go with the beans. I pour a jar of North African-style couscous sauce into a pan and heat it. It was a bright and happy meal for a bright day. Corwin later drops by and finishes the leftovers.

It is nearing 11 after Corwin leaves, and I crawl into bed after the dishes are started in the dishwasher. Laundry is planned for Saturday morning. Thanks for reading!