Author: alohawild

Monday was a travel day, and I was up at 3:20 when I woke up. I checked what time it was. I was startled awake by the silenced alarm showing. Did I do that? No memory. I jumped out of bed and soon headed out of the room after a fast clean up, shave, and gathering my already packed items. My PJs, a gift from Deborah, were packed in my carry-on, and I was out at 3:45 and on the road in Air Kia before 4AM. Yikes!

I made one last cup of coffee and drank it as I boarded Air Kia. The travel was wet and windy, and Air Kia fish-tailed a few times. It was hard going in the dark with the rain and trying to find my way back to the car rental place. The lines of the streets and highways are hard to see sometimes with the dark and rain, but I arrived safely and found the entrance to Hertz and parked and emptied the car. I checked it twice (as I did the hotel room).

I was pointed by a processing clerk to a shelter with a bus. The bus was moved to the next shelter, but I walked anyway. The wind and the rain blowing over the acres of cars were cold. It was still the correct bus. About twenty minutes later, I was at DTW. I rolled my bags up two escalators to find a long line to check bags. The tagging and boarding pass printing machines had and third of the machines not working, f**k, and there were lines three travelers deep. It was slow going, and I was getting concerned. The Delta folks did seem to fix one, and I jumped on that one after someone got it to work. Soon, I was tagged and then placed in another long line. That one went fast enough that I did not get more concerned. I dropped off my bag and wandered lost until directed to take the escalators back down and go through security there.

I descended, entered security, and soon took off things and put them in trays. Apparently, I did not raise my hands high enough (I think they wanted my pants to fall off) on the first scan and had to do it again. I passed, as did my tray of items. My pants remained on. After a moment of reassembly, I saw, as usual, that I had the last f**king gate in Detroit, as far away as physically as possible. How airlines manage the bending of time and space to ensure that each passenger gets the maximum exposure to retail stores and Airport propaganda always amazes me.

I see that I can pay for some 3D glasses and walk around in a virtual space with marks on the floor for the limit of the vision. I demurred. I walked to another escalator (How many ups and downs can a place have?) and soon took the express train to the end of the gates. After another escalator, I was quickly at my gate, A9.

The food place sign says they open at 5AM, and it was fifteen minutes past the demarcating time of no food to food. But I was informed that they were not ready. I thanked them for their efforts.  I found a table in view of the food place and A9. Perfect.

I returned to the food stand when they seemed ready, but alas, no, I could get a bagel and cream cheese, which was simple. I concurred, bought it, got a number, and was told to wait. As the process was simple, it was quickly completed, and I enjoyed breakfast. Alas, they do not make coffee (!), and I would have to try the coffee place over there (out of the line of sight) to get coffee. Nope. I just ate and wrote the start of the blog.

With 2/3 of the blog done, the boarding was soon, and I packed up from my excellent table. Called out my thanks to the bagel providers, and that got a smile, even on a blurry Monday. The boarding process was usual, and being a blurry Monday, the customers were exceptionally polite and seemed happy to just line up and be told where to go. Even the screaming children who just realized they would be put in a flying, uncomfortable, and scary tin can for about 70 minutes (we all should be crying!) were muted in their protests.

I found 34A and put my bag in the overhead bin, ignoring that I should first use the space at my feet. Punishments for this sin were vague, and I decided to risk it and enjoy my feet having room for over an hour as we were depressurized to the base camp of many mountain climbers (yes, about the equivalent of 7,000 feet). I was joined by two gals covered with implements for flying that made me wonder if they knew this was the Detroit to Boston flight. Yes, they were only flying one flight.

I performed the ritual to summon my screen to life and recognize me, including exchanging codes. Now, I plugged in my wired but noise-reducing earphones and watched most of the movie Argo (I will complete it on the flight back—yes, Delta-sync will remember where I left off). I paused the show, nodded off, and missed the beverage serving. We were informed that ‘smooth air’ would be searched for, but it was likely allusive in this area. The pilot insisted that we wear our seatbelts and just try to relax–few services would be available.

My seatmates were missing. I heard one seatmate espouse that her blanket was necessary. She could not find it. She ran to the restroom, and she cried and was ill. She received comfort from other passengers (I was oblivious as the restroom was ten seats back, and I was enjoying the movie). The blanket was found, and she finished the trip in her seat.

While it is easy to eye-roll, talk about the snowflake generation, and make fun of younger people, something folks with grey hair think is one of the few pleasures of getting older. Pain is still pain, and I made every effort to be supportive and pretend this was all normal. I smiled and helped here and there. I was happy for her when she could relax and find peace.

We arrived early but then were delayed by the gate staff being missing and the usual curfuffles of arriving too early. Soon, I was off the plane with all my goods and walked endless poorly marked hallways with more escalators going up and down in unexpected places. I found my checked bag and called Clint. He wanted to know what terminal I was at. A helpful fact that was not on any sign–Yes, Logan Airport conserves signage.

Soon, we connected, and I was whisked away in an older Ford Escape that did not have a large screen. We stopped for brunch after Exit 1 in New Hampshire; I missed the state change. We skipped the tunnel as the maps app had used to cover Boston above ground. We had a baked tomato, eggs, and feta with pita for brunch. Wonderful!

We stopped at my hotel and learned there was no checking-in until after 2:30. Period. I find this in only half of the hotels. I often score the room, even in the mornings. My coughing was not improved by the lack of sleep and depressurization from the flight. We headed to the clan ensconced at Clint’s and Annika’s home (Annika being Susie’s neise). Clint explained the lay of the land; me, coining a phrase here.

Soon, I was at the house, about twenty-five minutes from my hotel. I soon saw Gene and Glenda (Susie’s uncle and aunt) and various kids (now much older). Clint showed me his 3D printer and started a print. Clint and I then found time to learn and play the Kickstarter board game Chocolate Factory. A Kickstarter I did not back (but I remember reading about it). I found it a marvelous resource management game with just a hint of worker placement and engine building sliding in. It plays six rounds and uses a unique sliding action I have not seen before. It reminded me of a much lighter version of the Grand Austrian Hotel.

You start with coco in pods and turn them into chocolate-based products, which you can machine into various fine chocolates. You play three shifts and burn coal to run machines. I often ran out of coal. You can exchange chocolates for coal (thus, excess can be at least used). The run of your factory was immersive, and I wanted a Willy Wonka hat and sing some songs when working in my factory (“Ump, Ump, dup-pa-dee-do”). I managed to pull ahead by filling orders for corner stores and doing enough on the large stores to keep Clint from sweeping me. I won by 18 pounds (points) but felt I could have done better. I was tired and decided to get dinner and rest at the hotel.

The hotel I would call a pit and cannot recommend it and will not be returning to the brand. It is clean. There is no coffee, and dishes and other things, like DIY coffee makers, are only available on request. F**k. I espouse that hotels supply coffee. Ugh!

I found Clint’s recommendation, Cedars Cafe, and had lamb kabobs for dinner. And that, with freshly made hummus and pita, was a great meal in my room. I showered and found a tiny bottle of shampoo and soap bar. I went to bed and soon slept. I woke once to prove hydration and then took my meds; it was late, but at least I remembered. I rose late with my cough reduced with mostly forgotten dreams of making chocolates.

I forgot in yesterday’s blog that we did see the Dymaxion house at the Henry Food Museum. This was a post-war idea of building an aluminum house with a cable system to hold it together, Buckminster Fuller’s idea. Only two prototypes were built, as he never got funding, and they are combined into one example at the museum. We waited about forty minutes in line and got to walk through the house. The bathroom was smaller than what I had seen on submarines, and the kitchen made my galley kitchen look friendly and spacious, but still, it was a wonder to see the unaccepted idea. They walked us ten at a time, the maximum the house could handle, and explained the functions. Some of the ideas we have seen in cartoons and some SciFi shows. The museum had just opened the house to visitors; Deborah had never been inside, though she had seen it many times, and it was one of her favorites at the museum. We noticed some changes and learned that the house was reinforced now and that the house had people walking it all day. We wondered aloud if a party at one of these would have damaged the house, but we were told that the constant tours required reinforcement, though we were less convinced.

Seeing this vision of Buckminster Fuller and the post-WW2 idea of a two-bedroom, two-bath home was fantastic. Walking through and seeing the system’s guts, exposed for the tours, was fascinating. I would recommend the tour to anyone (except for small kids, as it would bore them).

Poe’s Desk. There is a collection of historical furniture that was fun to look at.

With the story now all caught up, my coughing reduced this Tuesday, New Year’s Eve. I am pleased to finish up the story; thanks for reading!

I have an hour before my flight starts to board, so this will be a brief blog post today.

I rose early with my alarm at 6:30 to begin my day. I started writing a blog that would be 1200 words long, and it took me a few hours. I decided at 8sih I needed breakfast, cleaned up, shaved, dressed, and moved to the lobby. There, the industrial breakfast of the usual items was waiting, but there were no biskets to go with the food served canned white sausage gravy. I put some gravy over my red potatoes and rosemary, the other starch that would go with gravy. Coffee was plentiful. I had made Dunkin Donuts in the Kuelig that I purchased for too much money from the CVS pharmacy. So I was highly caffeinated when I was writing!

I finished the blog in the late morning, and Deborah picked me up in Air Mini and skillfully got us to the Henry Food Museum in Dearborn. The place charges even for parking, so our two visitors’ access to the Museum was just below $100. Wow. The place had been updated since I was there over 30 years ago.

Some items I remember were still there, including the chair that Lincoln was sitting in when he was shot. The big presidential cars and the remodeled one that President Kenedy was shot in were included. I did not know it was still being used by Nixon and Carter. President Reagan’s huge car was also there. Reagan was wounded by a ricochet while getting out of that car in the 1980s. His press secretary, Jim Bradey, was terribly injured at that moment.

Deborah and I enjoyed the cars and the displays of changes in technology. Neither of us is a car person, so some excitement projected from some displays was lost on us. We found lunch there by grabbing it from premade as the line was long, and soon, we wondered why you would not slice the grapes in a chicken salad sandwich. The whole round grapes popped out of the sandwich, making eating them more exciting than you are ready for! We finished our sandwiches with only a few lost grapes on the floor.

We walked more of the items with Deborah looking for something, a weird surprise, but she could not locate it. The last breath of Thomas Edison was captured (sort of) in a test tube and is on display. The cabinet that contains the item was in the history of the power section, and the lights, which is ironic, have failed in the case with all the inventors of lighting systems, making it hard to find. It was a strange item.

We wandered a bit more but had been there for hours, and it was time to head back. Like the museums in Chicago, there are mold machines that make you a plastic item as you wait. We figured out the complex pay system and finally got a four-inch-tall Henry Ford figure made as a gift for Corwin.

Deborah got us back to our area, and we relaxed a bit. This includes stopping at Deborah’s house and getting her dogs, Zelda and Trixie, fed, walked, and petted. We made a reservation at the Hibachi place in Rochester. This is like the old Benihana places; soon, knives flew, and food was trying to be caught (I failed every time). We had steak and scallops, and it was pretty good. Dinner was great, and while we were sad that our time together was ending, it was a great night. We had many laughs and got to enjoy some fun.

I said goodbye and goodnight (Deborah will be in Oregon in February). I apologize for making this less detailed, but I am tired from traveling to New Hampshire tonight. Thanks for reading.

The cough was harsh and bothered me all day. The anti-cough meds made me fuzzy all day. I started to get organized and pack. I will have to pack on Sunday night as my flight is early, and I need to drop off the rental car, Air Kia, take the shuttle, check a bag, and then reach my gate by 6:20. Yikes! Just one early flight on this trip, Dec 30, Monday. Deborah will take the glassware that Linda, my sister, sent me for Christmas and ship it to Oregon for me. Deborah will send it later this week, as I will not be home until late Sunday, Jan 5, 2025. It is about an hour’s trip to the car rental place, meaning I will be there at about 4:20. I will drop the car off and find a shuttle. While worried about the timing, I can’t be the first person to do this. Besides missing the flight, the worst case is that I have to roll my bag onto the plane. I have already contacted Clint to be picked up at about 9ish in Boston. From there, we will find my hotel and I will align with the plans for the Hill and Weis clans.

Though ill, I spent most of my day with Deborah, who made it delightful. I decided to stay in my room for the morning and hung the sign to stop cleaning the room early. I was up before 8, waking as usual with the first light of sunrise. My unconscious mind seems to love first light–I think I could sleep through a few. Dad Wild, gone for years now, used to say he would rise every morning to see the sunrise; there were only so many left for him to see. Dad wanted to see as many as he could.

Dear reader, join me early on one of these sunrises. Lift a cup of Fair Trade coffee, so-called liberal coffee, to another sunrise, and maybe there will be a tear for those who went before us. Remember, there are only so many for you to see. Wipe the tears, and then start your day ready to see what another day on this Earth brings you.

I wrote until about 11ish with interruptions to update my accounts in Quicken, transfer money to my checking account, and pay my travel bills, most of which were charged to my Alaska Air Visa. And while I do not have income from a job, the interest and dividend income have taken a bit of the bite of the trip. I also spent all the Nike bonus money (about 10% of my annual salary) on these trips.

I am slowly getting used to a fixed income and have started to reduce some of my less critical spending, though I did buy two board games (but they are exceptions; Devine Right and Burnering Banners are Fantasy hex-style war games). I also used miles for these flights, costing me $35 for flight insurance and $35 for my bags on three flights. I have poor seats but use the money I saved on the flight to buy nice dinners, better hotels, and decent rental cars.

The coughing subsided for a while, and I finished the blog at about 11 and then dressed. I wanted to walk and move as breathing was easier if I stood and moved. Sitting or, worse, lying down causes the post-nasal trip to run right into my lungs. Ugh! Walmart, a store I never visit (preferring Costco if I am looking for large or cheaper things), was a short walk away. The air is warm today, and there are only a few spots of snow here and there. It was a nice walk, though I had to walk through some grass as no sidewalk adjoined the buildings.

The place is enormous, and the electronics deals looked excellent (when did giant-screen TVs become less than $400?). The food looked higher priced, but soon, I was directed to walk to the far side of the store to row G. The scheme of letters, logic, and sequence was unlike anything I had experienced before. I passed ‘H’ often in my search for ‘G.’ I found the painkillers in a set of shelves marked G for reasons that escaped me (I decided not to ponder these Walwart mysteries), got a very cheap bottle of ibuprofen, located travel sizes, and renewed my supply of toothpaste. Check-out was without smiles and a do-it-yourself (DIY) experience with only one checker available in the ten-plus usual lines should you wish to skip DIY and use a more human process. I followed the procedure and found that ‘tap’ was not a technology embraced by Walmart. Hmmm. I pocketed my items thanks to the watcher of DIY and finally got a smile.

Deborah was delayed, and she did not appear until after 1. She had Air Mini, and we headed to the Michigan Central Train Station (MC), now remodeled as a retail space open for the holidays. But first, we had Eggs Benedict at Dogwood in Pontiac and had the same waiter. I forgot her name; the joke was that she stole my hat to make us return for brunch. I drank only water (having three cups of coffee to make the day less fuzzy) and refilled my glass so many times I consumed a pitcher full of water! The brunch was outstanding. With my hat recovered, we headed to Detroit.

Parking was a challenge, and we did a few loops. We finally parked within sight of the Michigan Central Train Station (MC) in a space that Deborah backed into. Air Mini fits well in the extra-large slot. We walked a few blocks through an impromptu sidewalk soup kitchen with items to buy, still being set up (it was gone when we returned). I tipped my hat to the various folks, and that got smiles. Most people want to be seen.

We were amazed at how nice MC looked now, being an infamous, wrecked, and ruined building for years. It was once the emblem of Detroit’s failure. The Ford Motor Motor Company had remodeled and restored the first floors to a lovely retail space, repaired the facade, and plans to use the renewed building as the center for its Corktown (as this area is called) campus.

We stopped to take pictures outside and found a whole group doing this. We soon exchanged places with someone who took photos and then exchanged phones to take pictures of the next group. There were many smiles and photos. Soon, we joined a fast-moving line to enter. They had reached maximum capacity, but the traffic was moving fast, and soon, we were inside.

The building reminds me of Union Stations in Chicago and Washington, DC, except for no trains. The place looked terrific, and we took endless pictures, as did many. I bought a card and pen (the plastic pen for Liam, Deborah’s son, who loves trains) from the MC store. We also looked at the smaller shops interspersed with relics and documents from the MC. Bits of broken tile and stone, certificates, and even ticket stubs all brought back the days of trains. I did not see any blueprint versions for me to buy.

It was after 4 when we stepped outside. From there, we saw the Ambassador Bridge, which leads to Canada. Yes, you could see Canada from there! There was a slight wind, but we were happy to get out of the warm station and air out in the cool breeze. It was too early for dinner, though Slows Bar-B-Q was there to tempt us. But we decided instead to walk in Rochester with all the lights. Soon, Air Mini was escaping Detroit’s potholes (strangely mostly found on ramps with the streets and highways in good repair) and soon parked in a parking garage (all the street parking taken and also a challenge with all the traffic) in Rochester.

We walked the streets and decided on Kruse And Muer On Main for dinner. Next door, there is a tarot shop, and I made the faux pas of suggesting their pendulum and boards are covered in Magician books on how to make them do anything you want. This is part of the Magician’s Mentalism tricks I know–I have the book by the same name. This offended the store clerk, and I left sad that I was just thinking out loud when I saw the equipment and did not mean to be offensive. I was considering getting some of the equipment to do the trick but did not think of a New Age or Tarot store as a place to get them–they must know the reading can be faked without effort, even if you let someone else hold the string to the bobble. Sigh.

We found a lovely new bookstore and sandwich shop with an eclectic collection of new books for sale. We wandered through their choices for some time and sat in some over-stuffed chairs for a while. They had recommendations and the ‘like this, then try this’ selection, including some kids’ books. I was tempted by a few books, but I am still reading my Analog Magazines and have some gaming stuff to read. I resisted.

We got our text after forty minutes to return to Kruse And Muer On Main for our table. We were informed there was a two-hour limit to the table. This would be unheard of in some countries (Belgium, for example), but here in the USA, that is the new norm; I was happy we were allowed two hours! Deborah wanted to try the fish and chips while I went with the seafood bake. I never ordered seafood in Michigan until this trip, except for freshwater items, and it has markedly improved. Our meals were terrific, and the service friendly, if not a bit fast-moving. The place was busy. Our shared dessert was an average Apple crisp as the bread pudding was out; at least the apples were fresh and still crunchy. Still an excellent meal. 

My cough was worse, and the rest of the night was me drinking water as we chatted and Deborah leaving me around ten. I was soon asleep in room 303, Benadryl, helping. After midnight, I returned to the awake world. I did not know how my bladder could refill so fast. I repeated the waking and provided hydration three more times, seemingly minutes apart (I suspect I unknowingly nodded off between each trip to the restroom). I finally slept with no more coughing fits or refills.

Thanks for reading.

I was slow and tired from endless nasal drips and nose running. The cold meds and the few hours of sleep made me fuzzy, and Deborah said that even the ‘energizer bunny’ must recharge. When I travel, I am often called that as I want to do everything all the time. I have also stocked the room with some baked goods and Dunken Donuts pods.

I rose just before 8 when the sunrise started. I rise usually with or before the sun. With the winter solstice just passed, it is still late, around 8. I am not looking forward to Monday as that is a 4AM drive to DTW to fly to Boston early. I tried to avoid the awful early flights, but there were few choices to Boston. I will be in New England for a week. Sunday will be my last full day in Michigan.

I wrote for a while in room 303 but soon showered (I got warm), shaved, and dressed. I then headed downstairs to the lobby and had breakfast. It consisted of the usual industrial scrambled eggs, sausage (pork or turkey), and food service sausage gravy with hot biscuits. The biscuits were frozen, as I used to make them, too—excellent—and the gravy came in large cans. I ate that while I wrote for a few hours. I have thought about serving the same breakfast before church; church with brunch sounds like a good idea. It’s not likely to happen…but it’s a fun dream…I travel too much now to do that every Sunday.

I waited in the lobby for Deborah to head to lunch, nodded off, and then watched the young people try to wash the glass doors. Like in many hotels, the doors open by detecting motion. The doors open to a small entranceway to stop the cold wind from blowing in. The first door opens, you step in, it closes, and the other opens as the other one closes, giving you access to the lobby without flooding the lobby with cold or warm air or snow or rain.

I watched as someone first had to be told how to wash the glass with spray and a squeegee (yes, I looked up the spelling as squeeze means something else). The Marx Brothers or Carol Burnett might have invented this routine. Once they got it started, they were left to clean all the windows. Then, the person tried to clean the windows. Every time the person moved, the door opened. I watched as the squeegee person attempted to time it and quickly spray and clean it, but the door detected and even opened again when partially closed! Then, after what must have been ten minutes of just standing there and waving the squeegee to discover the perfect timing, another person shows up and demonstrates, on a non-moving glass, how to correctly squeegee–you must go all the way to the bottom of the glass in one movement with plenty of spray. Our leaner of the mysteries then recleans all the windows.

Soon, three and four people were discussing cleaning the glass. A better squeegee was produced, and finally, they realized you could not clean the moving glass doors together. A key was produced after a moment of search, and the door movements were disabled. The outer door was cleaned inside. It was reenabled, and the inner door was locked to be squeegee-ed. Now Deborah showed up, and this caused chaos if you could call this process anything less than chaos. The gal was found with the key and unlocked the door to let Deborah in, waving to us from behind between the two glass doors (though she could leave).

Escaping the comedy show, Deborah and I headed to Pontiac, Michigan, and Dogwood for lunch, one of Deborah’s favorite places. There, I had a lovely steak salad and a wrap for Deborah. I left my hat there (I called them, and they have it, and I will get in on Saturday). After that, Deborah spent a pleasant afternoon together.

In the late afternoon, we traveled to Deborah’s house after picking up my laundry. We used Deborah’s older but working laundry, 1980s Maytag, made in Michigan, washer and dryer, but there are parts available and instructions on how to fix them, Deborah told me. They worked fast and handled my two loads without issue.

While we waited, Deborah played the board game Pandemic with me. I taught her how to play and helped direct the play as it is a cooperative game. Deborah soon got it and made better suggestions than I did for a few moves. That is the absolute pleasure of cooperative games as you realize that 1+1=2+, the sum is greater than the parts–to coin a phrase. We played the basic version with four Epidemic cards evenly scattered through the draw deck. We got quite a few outbreaks, but with two players, the game is kinder as the acceleration caused by the mechanic is slower to escalate sudden-death losing conditions. Also, this is the first version and does not have lousy event cards or interlocking damaging mechanics like Cthulu Pandemic (my favorite version). We cured all the diseases in time to win the game but did not have time to eradicate the viruses, which still gave us a win.

Deborah ordered dinner for Panera Bread, and her sons, Donovan and Liam, picked it up. I met Donovan for the first time. I had tuna fish and a cup of soup, which was strange, and I did not finish it. Potato soup with stringy cheese was not interesting to me, and it was messy. I finished my laundry and borrowed some hangers. Soon, I returned to the hotel, saying goodnight to Deborah a bit early.

Then, the coughing and breathing issues started. I was concerned about midnight when I had some unpleasant coughing, but Benadryl made it all disappear. Obviously, an allergic reaction going wrong. I was able to sleep after midnight. Ugh!

Thanks for reading!

A cough started today, and it got terrible. I have little sleep, but I am feeling better Friday morning. Thursday’s story will be short and cover a few things as I am tired and still coughing here and there.

I rose early and started coughing more than usual. Deborah told me that the mold makes her cough when the winter freeze breaks, and I thought that may be the issue. It has been years and years since I have been in Michigan for winter. It manifests as a post-nasal drip that is causing my lungs to react. Ugh!

I started to pack early as it was a hotel change day. Off to the greater Detroit area again. I had four loads of stuff for the car, including things that needed a frig. I have to do a repack for my trip to New Hampshire next week and wash my clothing. I am also mostly out of clean clothing. I brought lots of clothing for this trip, but I knew one day would be for doing laundry. Deborah has offered a quiet day at her house while we play board games and do laundry.

I checked out of the Hilton with Air Kia, which is now loaded. I headed to Lansing from East Lansing and discovered that the gaming store, Hoplites, opens in the afternoon. I will miss them. I head to Summit near the Capital and am shocked that the Peanut Store is not open on Boxing Day, but the gaming store is open at 10!

The staff at Summit is not the same as last time, but soon, I was searching for those unique items I found at their store. And I was not disappointed, and spent over $30 on two items I had not seen for sale before. Excellent.

I have breakfast one last time for this trip at Homewood Suites by Hilton, and the cough worsens. Maybe a cold and not alergies. Ugh! I call Leta; she has a terrible cold but agrees to have lunch before I head out.

I walk to the old theater and see a store inside the building, now an incubator for small stores, and buy a lovely card from the store. I chatted with the store owner about her uranium glass on display. The glass creates alpha particles when exposed to light, but those are stopped by a single sheet of paper. It’s not a risk, but it makes some folks nervous, especially if you have a Geiger counter (I do). I have a sugar bowl, creamer, and some absinthe glasses from the odd-colored green glass (which glows in UV).

The place reeks of mold, and soon, I am not improved by the exposure. I leave and breathe better. I took Air Kia to Panera Bread near the Lansing Mall and met Leta soon. Leta is much worse than me. We both have chicken soup, and Leta insists she buy lunch. I give, a sad moment, the wedding bands, engagement rings, and some other jewelry from Susie for Barb, Susie’s sister. It was a moment I dreaded, but I am happy to send the jewelry to their next life as family items. I also gave Leta the information on one last insurance policy on Susie, which we discovered needs some basic information to pay off. It was a pleasant lunch, and we discussed my plan to be back in April for a few days if we can make that work–the planning is in light pencil.

With my cough not improving, I head to Flint to reach the Greater Detroit Area. In the fast driving of Michigan, it is wise to take highways that head in the wrong direction to get the right road, as 80+ makes up for the extra driving. I stopped once to prove hydration and reach the Holiday Express in less than 90 minutes. My room, now 303, is much like my last one but strangely cold, and I head to Meijer’s (the local grocery and everything store) and get some cold products. This is added to the collection I got at Wallgreens in Lansing, stopping there before lunch with Leta.

I discovered the heat is set to AC, which explains the 64F while set to 70F. F**k. I push the heat button, and the room soon becomes toasty. That was unexpected!

I drop by Deborah’s house, and we keep our distance. Deborah is ill from her medical test. The dogs, Trixie and Zelda, are happy to see me. I bring the food and booze left over from my cooking at Café 207 for Christmas Dinner. We chatted, but I agreed to head back to the hotel and see about the cough.

I take some meds, walk next door, and try Grand Tavern and its bar. There, I have two Spanish Coffees and steak bites (served in a lovely gravy and with toasted bread), and I feel less good. I get to my room, shower to get warm, cough the night away, and can’t sleep until 3AM, about midnight in Oregon. F**k. I finally take some painkillers, and that works, oddly, with my allergy meds. Hmmm. It might not be a cold after all. Just a bad reaction to mold. F**k. Sleep comes, and I wake at 5, 6, 7, and rise before 8.

I am writing this in the lobby, and I am feeling better. My nose is running, and I have a tickle in my throat that makes me cough, but I do not feel I have a cold. Just allergies.

Thanks for reading.