Author: alohawild

I tried to sleep a bit more, but a cough had started—the usual stress cough I remember from working. I know I need to slow down, but today was not a day for rest. In my room, I had some Danish and pad coffee that tasted more like colored water. I was dressed in a dress shirt and green sweater vest, as I had to cook.

I wrote the blog in my room and then downstairs at about 9. With the staff already putting away breakfast, I grabbed two bananas and coffee. I was not in a rush as Christmas Dinner would be in the afternoon. I wrote until about 11 and called Mom Wild to remind her of the plans. She remembered some of it and was excited to make this strange Christmas work. I also spoke to Linda and Jesse; they are not positive for COVID-19 so far but feel off.

I found a glass cutting board and dull cheap knives. I managed to chop 1/2 an onion and talked to Deborah on the phone while processing the garlic into bits. A poor plan, and soon, I stabbed my finger with the knife. But, the knife’s point was so dull it did not break my skin. Ringing off, I completed some of the prep for Christmas dinner in my room, now known as Café 207.

I called Mom Wild every hour; she managed a slow process and felt good. Excellent. I cleaned up the kitchen and hand-washed some dishes we needed. I have only a limited supply as the Café could not handle more than four people and was best at two customers.

Soon, Air Kia picked me up and got me to Mom Wild’s place. While the de-icing product had worked overnight, some ice had formed from icicles falling. I got out the snow shovel, cleared the path, and re-treated it with de-icer. Mom uses a pet-friendly product. Mom finished getting ready.

The walker with me in front, holding it from going too fast, got Mom Wild down her ramp and to Air Kia. I learned that the walker fits sideways as the Kia Sportage is a compact SUV. It has handled all of this well, and I enjoy driving it; as I have said before, here in fast-driving Michigan, it easily rolls to 90+ without problems. Later, talking to the Smith Family for the holidays, David said he would not pick a Kia Sportage for winter driving, but I said this one was handled well and was not even an AWD version. Also, the base price was so low that I could buy three new ones for the cost of one newish Volvo. I suspect used ones are cheap enough to get a six-pack of all the colors for that price.

Hmmm. I can hear Mariah asking why I would purchase cheap Kias when I could get some late-model muscle cars.

We arrived, and soon Mom Wild was happy in Café 207, surprised by how nice and large my room was at Homewood Suites by Hilton. I chopped some Italian parsley and fresh basil and started the cooking. The stove top is slow, but I could make that work. The water took a long time to boil, and the onions and garlic were fried in butter. My salt and pepper was the only little package I found in the room. Good enough.

I added the tomato sauce to frying onion and garlic and turned down the pan to cook. Bowtie pasta was boiled slowly but still hot enough to cook. I added vodka to the sauce. I stood back as a spark would ignite the evaporating alcohol; it was best for me not to lose my eyebrows or set my sweater on fire for the holidays, though it would make it a memorable Christmas! I added heavy cream and more vodka to the pan, which balanced the tomato and cream flavors and brought out the other flavors. No flashes as this is an electric stove top (gas burners will usually ignite this). Soon, the pasta was done. I put Trader Joe’s bag-of-expensive-greens in bowls and offered two types of dressing (ranch and goddess–purchased as I liked the name).

I have not drained pasta with just a lid in years. I managed without loss of pasta or burns. I used a slotted spoon supplied in the kitchen to serve the pasta and the sauce. The sauce is plain, but many folks find the more modern sauces too complex. Mom Wild wanted nothing spicy, and thus, I went this way.

While I cooked, Mom had a shot of Bailey’s, and Christmas Story was on the screen in the room. Next, we opened a German, not-too-sweet Reisling to go with dinner. Mom Wild would not go with a heavy red that usually goes with pasta. I asked for a sweet white that Mom would love, and this was the recommendation from their wine guy: Trader Joe’s. It was perfect.

I cleared my work table, which can roll, and set it with plates and some silverware. I pushed the table before the couch and served from the pans. Mom was surprised by how well Café 207 was ready to serve customers. Mom Wild enjoyed her pasta with some sauce and her salad. I had seconds and enjoyed the goddess salad dressing, a mix of ranch and Italian. I had vanilla ice cream from Trader Joe’s for dessert, but I up the ante by drizzling some coffee liqueur on the scoops. It was delicious.

Mom watched as I cleared the table and got the dishes in the dishwasher (yes, there is a small dishwasher in my room). I rolled the table back and put my laptop back on it. My office is back!

Next, we opened Christmas presents from Linda, Meg, and Jesse. I got some nice glasses and an apron (I should have opened the presents first, I was told later) to make dinner with. Mom got many other gifts, including an electronic photo frame with Linda, Jesse, and me, adding photos online to be displayed. I will mail the glass gifts to my house.

I took the leftover pasta and sauce and delivered it to the desk woman, who was happy to enjoy it for Christmas. Later, I would find the cleaned pan outside of Room 207. Perfect. Three satisfied customers for my only night running Café 207.

We loaded the Air Kia and soon returned to Mom’s house after dark. There were tears, as every ‘Hello’ also means a ‘Goodbye.’ I delivered her gifts and a poinsettia from Leta to her house. With many hugs and a promise to return in April, I soon returned to the Hilton via the gas station, as the gas warning light was on. You don’t know how good these are in rentals, so I filled up with $3.07 gas, as it was the only place open on Christmas Day.

Even with the cough, which only bothers me when I am sitting or in bed, I decided to have a Christmas swim. I got about fifteen minutes in and found it more challenging to hold my breath for a swim the length of the pool underwater (meaning my lungs were a bit inflamed by the coughing–I have to be careful not to give myself bronchitis with the coughing). Still, I enjoyed it and soon talked to Deborah as I finished my swim. We planned my return to her area on Boxing Day (December 26).

My cough is allergies, for those who are wondering. The post-nasal drip trips the coughing, and I can cough myself into illness. My usual doctor’s treatment is to stop the coughing and not anything else. I will try to do that with some of the typical over-the-counter products.

I shower to get warm and to help control the cough. I get out another blanket as room 207 seems cold. I crawl into my bed and try to sleep. At 9:30, I rise again and watch this year’s new Doctor Who special, “Joy To The World,” written by Steve Moffat, who, when not rushed, produces some of the best scripts, I think, for Doctor Who. I also think he is a mixed bag when the showrunner, as he gets rushed and sloppy. I enjoyed the mix of the Christmas story, the usual running of the Doctor, and the Timey-winey stuff. Recommended.

I still had trouble getting warm and stopping the coughing, but a painkiller to reduce the inflammation and Benadryl to stop the allergies and help me sleep worked. I woke a few times, once to prove that I was keeping hydrated, but I woke too early. It was a hotel change day, and soon, I was starting my day just after 6.

And that is when Thursday’s story starts, so I will stop there. Thanks for reading!

I did not set the alarm and was surprised to rise at 7:45, but soon, I was moving again, not always certain now that I am over sixty and on a three-week trip, and made coffee in the little machine (a pad of coffee for this one). Not knowing what would comprise the hotel’s complimentary breakfast, I bought chocolate croissants and had one with industrial coffee to start my day. At 9, I cleaned up, shaved, dressed, grabbed the Apple, and headed to the lobby. The place was busy with many kids getting breakfast with mom or dad. I overheard one mom say they would get breakfast while dad slept as he drove hours to get them there. I later saw that the pool was busy. Excellent!

I wrote for a while, and Grammarly was strangely aggressive and reworded my work. I allowed it to make some changes and then regretted it as I re-read my text later.  The AI-based editing product made more changes than I realized; many were nonsensical but grammatically correct. I spent an extra 45 minutes restoring my text; I will be more careful in the future.

Today, I only planned to have dinner and attend Grace United Methodist Church’s 7PM Christmas Eve service with Leta, Susie’s mother. Mom Wild (Barb Wild) said she wanted to join us the day before. So I would need to pick her up at about 4:30 and then reach Leta at 5 to get three at Longhorn Steakhouse (oddly, the same chain I had dinner with Zorida in Texas).

With the blog done, more coffee, and a banana consumed in the lobby, I was ready to head out. I returned the Apple to the room, slightly hidden (to avoid tempting any staff), put on my hat, scarf (Manchester United but Nike, which was more than ten years old as Nike lost ManU), and my coat. I drove to the college section of East Lansing, paid almost $3 in parking, and started to walk the area. The sidewalks were not always clean, and I slipped a few times, but never enough to be endangered. First, I headed to Curious Books, which had a copy, leather spine, full text, of Dicken’s The Old Curiosity Shop, which I had never read and thought ironic and perfect to send to myself in Oregon. I was not tempted by anything else, but running through the store and finding something different is always a pleasure. With the book and shipping purchased, I headed to El Azteco for lunch.

There, I got a table as the window seat was not cleaned, and soon, I had a small margarita with salt on the rocks, as they did not have hot drinks. I ordered the taco plate, two ground beef, and one shredded chicken tacos with rice and beans. I saw a gal come in and order two beers (and a small plate of something). Remembering that someone bought my beer yesterday, I paid for hers. She just smiled and went back to her food. But, at least, I had passed on the small holiday gift.

(the sign in the men’s room at the taco place)

Next, I walked to the local vape shop. The door was strange, with a sign that said to push hard, and I had to. The sales cleric, young, bearded, and with a colorful T-shirt, felt like a flashback to the 1960s-70s. They have a wall of bongs, but I was looking for Breeze Vape products for Mom Wild. There is a wall full of flavors, with ‘Mint’ being a good seller, I was told by the beatnik-like clerk. That being unhelpful, I called Linda, and she said tobacco flavor was the correct option, which is the last row and colored brown (I missed it in the flash of so many colors and tastes offered). The clerk was happy to get me two, sounding more like an accountant than an edgy 60s guy; Linda warned me they are hard to open and I should open one for Mom. They ran about $15 each and are self-contained.

I next went to CVS and was ripped off and overcharged. They also had the coffee liqueur product in the smaller bottle I was looking for yesterday (for $1 less, I think). I got some Diet Coke in tiny cans, some instant coffee, and a discounted coffee pod of Dunken Donuts coffee (a favorite). But when I went to check out, I paid full price. I needed a CVS card to get a reasonable price. F**k, but I was too annoyed to say anything on Christmas Eve, and the clerk did ask me twice if I wanted a CVS card. Thinking I should write a note to Michigan’s Attorney General about stores ripping people off in the city and near college students, I boarded Air Kia. Deborah later admonished me for even using the overpriced store (even the prescriptions co-payments are higher there she told me); I will try to be more frugal in the future (I am retired and have time).

I returned to the hotel and unloaded my precious CVS items. Mom calls and says she has nothing to eat (her freezer is stuffed with food that requires just a bit of time in the microwave). I get back on my coat and drive next door to Walmart. Now there is chaos: Walmart on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. I locate bread, old school whitebread, sliced medium cheddar, ham, and turkey cold cuts in a package. I also got a gift card for Longhorn Steakhouse, as Mom Wild said she was not going, but Linda and Jesse (my sister and her husband who reside in Laingsburg, a few miles away) can take her for dinner on another day. I informed Linda of the plans change and then took Air Kia to Mom Wild’s place. I was happy to remember the way to Park Lake Road.

The checker is challenged as the POS is slow at Walmart, which surprised me (being retired IT, fast connections for POS were always a focus, and I am bewildered by this failure at Walmart). She has issues with the previous customer who changed their mind on what cash to put on a gift card. This requires a slow restart and a near repeat of the same mistake. I smile at the checker when it is my time, and we do the gift card process, which is slow, but we manage it on the first try. She smiles back and tells me she has only a few hours left. I wish her luck and a Merry Christmas!

Mom Wild was not dressed and did not remember our previous discussion. I brought her the vape items and opened them for her. I gave her one to use and put one with her pills (also opened). I opened all the packages of cold cuts and put them in the frig, along with the bread. She was happy to get all of this.

Mom told me she was feeling good, but she was not dressed, and the chaos of getting ready was not something I could do to make it to Leta’s on time. I could only stay a short time. Mom was sad that I would leave, but I promised that on Christmas Day, we would meet, and we had no time constraints. I would take her to my room and cook dinner for us, and we could have a nice, if not a bit strange, Christmas together.

Tears followed, but I delivered her trash to the proper container and treated her icy walkway with an ice-melting compound I found near the door outside. This and the temperature increase should make Christmas Day a safe travel day for her. I poured her a Diet Coke, and that made her happy. She knows about her memory issues and asked me again to tell her what the plans were. She was retaining some of it. She was tearful to see me leave, but the promise of a better day on Christmas brought her hope.

I took a photo of where I had placed the vape and gift card and sent that to my sister. This will allow Linda to find them as needed. Mom asked me about selling her van and convertible Mini, and I agreed that they were assets that were not performing and should be sold. I’m not sure she will remember that, but I gave my honest answer and likely will again. I fear the absence of the van and mini will cause her to report them stolen, but maybe it will work out.

I returned to my room, changed into my red party vest and Santa tie, and soon was again in Air Kia, crossing from East Lansing to South Lansing. I put Leta’s address in CarPlay, but I am sure I could have found my way. Leta was ready with her watching for me, and I carried a heavy bag of food and useful items. Grace United Methodist Church supports the community with a reverse-Advent calendar gift; every day of Advent, you put a helpful item in the bag, such as food, personal product, etc. On Christmas Eve, you bring it to the church. I carried Leta’s bag into the cargo hold.

From there, it was a short trip to Longhorn Steak House. We were quickly seated in a booth; there would be a line when we left, and Chris was our waiter. Leta got the petite Flo’s filet, and I had the NY Strip. I also had a salad and a sweet potato with my meal. It was an excellent dinner, and Leta bought it as my Christmas present. It was perfect, and I like ‘opening’ gifts on Christmas Eve.

Leta could only eat half her steak but cut her own. She is still having trouble with her arm she broke–but manages to drive and live in her own home (though her daughter Barb often helps). For 96, she is a hope for all of us that we will be as well connected as Leta is to the world, family, and church when we are her age!

We took Air Kia to the church once dinner was done. We scored a handicapped parking spot at Grace UMC (Leta carried her parking pass), and soon, we delivered the goodies from the reverse-Advent process, and the area in the lobby was filled with bags.

Leta introduced me to many folks, some of whom I remember from different years and events. The service is about ninety minutes long, and the pastor was a dynamic speaker and mic’d to walk and move. We sang the usual songs; Grace UMC has a tradition of hiring students from MSU from their music department, and the music was excellent and familiar.

The pastor’s message (more than a homily and less than a sermon) was that God appeared as a child of a typical family, and the first human messengers were shepherds, generally an untrustworthy bunch. Thus, if you feel unworthy, please remember that the night crew of the lowest of the low were the first voices of the good news; you are worthy. The text says that people believed the shepherds, who were not considered valuable witnesses in court in those ancient days. Again, you are worthy.

After the service, there were more introductions, and I snagged a cookie. We loaded up two poinsettias, one in honor of Barb and one in memory of Susie (Leta’s daughters). We headed to Leta’s house and got the leftovers and one of the plants in her house without damage. There, we talked briefly, and then I headed out with a possible still-in-pencil visit for my birthday in mid-April 2025.

(I scored a plate of Leta’s wonderful cookies, too)

Soon, I was back in my hotel room and watched last year’s Doctor Who special #1. Christmas is often sad for me once the parties stop. I miss many people, and there are more each year to miss. I am also tired from driving and some of the emotions. I shower, get in my PJs, and read more SciFi in Analog.

I said good night to Deborah, who called. She had some drama of a gift that was too well hidden for her son. It was finally located in boxes that were moved ironically by the gift recipient; Liam, Deborah’s son, had moved the boxes earlier and managed to rehide his own gift. With the gift recovered, wrapping and preparing continued until late.

It was too late for a Christmas Eve swim. Soon, I was falling asleep. Likely, there were sugar plums to dream about.

Thanks for reading.

The day started with me rising early and organizing and packing a few items as I wrote the blog. The threat of dangerous driving (and walking) conditions from a storm increased overnight. I cleaned up, shaved, took my medications, and headed for the complimentary breakfast in the lobby of my hotel in the greater Detroit Area. Deborah got there before 9; she lives a short drive away and enjoyed the breakfast (my room is for two, a note for people who wonder if I am doing something wrong). We planned for an outdoor market on Monday, but with the cold and the storm, I was heading out early instead.

I loaded Air Kia business class seats and cargo hold with items. I did not refold my shirts and pants into my luggage but kept them on hangers in Air Kia. I put my soiled laundry in a bag I brought. I remembered my dress shoes (brought to me by Deborah, who rescued them from the previous hotel and visit), and I was ready soon. I finished breakfast with Deborah, but she worried I would face a mess. Linda, my sister who resided in the Greater Lansing Area, said the bad weather was already starting. It was decided, for safety reasons, that I would leave now instead of spending the day with Deborah.

After a long goodbye, I checked out of the hotel, and with a coffee to-go, I boarded Air Kia and used CarPlay to direct me to my next hotel in East Lansing, Homewood Suites by Hilton. Highway 75 was an exercise in constraint as Air Kia proved that it quickly reaches and handles well at over 90, which is even illegal in fast-driving Michigan. I was not passing at 90+! This was with rain and the beginning of the storm; the traffic did not slow.

I switched to Highway 69 to swing southwest as it was faster to stay on Highways (unlike Portland, where Highways have many of the characteristics of parking lots) and even drive a bit out of your way to connect and get there faster. It was only 90 minutes, or less, to Lansing! The traffic was flying. I had to move to slower lanes while trying to stay under 80!

The rain and freezing rain struck on 69. I called Barb, Susie’s sister, as I was in her area at the switch of highways, Grand Blanc, and explained my changed plans and discovered she was only twenty minutes ahead of me headed to Lansing to see and help out Leta (Susie’s mother) and was in a mess. There were cars and trucks spun out and wrecked. Soon, I was slowing and slipping, too. The traffic took on a more Portland-like look, suddenly down to 10. Barb briefed me about the wrecks, and I was ready for them. We stayed talking as we both went slowly to Lansing. Barb rang off once she hit the more complex, driving across Lansing to reach Leta’s home in the southern part of Lansing.

A semi stopped me from passing (apparently, the truck driver could see that it was not a good plan to use that lane) and drove in the middle lane. I was eventually allowed back into a safe lane. An aggressive driver threatened to wreck the Kia instead of letting me back in, but when I made him choose, he backed off. I grew up in Michigan and knew nobody smashes a car, no matter how scary they try to be.

I followed the semi until I reached Lansing, deciding I could go slower, which put me in front of the aggressive driver. I decided he needed to see my bumper for a while. We both stayed safe behind the semi. When headed on to Highway 127, I passed the semi and soon was at my hotel without any more slipping or challenges.

I was happy to be checked in and got my room at noonish. I carried all my items in two trips to my room, 207. I was tempted to sleep, but I had plans. Barb and Leta were having lunch at the Panera Bread near the Lansing Mall, and I was invited to join them. I checked that the stove top worked, the frig was cold, and plates, glasses, and cooking implements were in place. Yes! This place has a small kitchen with all the needed items and a dishwasher. When I stayed last time, I knew this would be a good choice for future trips. I met with the sales manager and learned the discounts start at two-week stays (or longer). The pool was excellent, too.

The heavy pencil plan is to make a small dinner for Barb Wild and me in room 207 and have Christmas here. Linda and family were exposed to COVID-19, and Christmas will be over before they are outside of exposure waiting time. And while the rules are lighter for exposure, Barb Wild and I count as folks who cannot risk exposure, so the five-day wait is usual for us. This means I am making Christmas dinner for Barb Wild and me.

I put in the directions, and while chatting with Deborah while I was driving, I missed my turn for the highway (which was slippery and had wrecks from the bad weather, according to Barb) and took the streets instead. I was about five minutes late.

I had a bowl of chili and half a tuna fish sandwich. Barb, Leta, and I talked about travels and plans. Leta suggested dinner before church, and I connected with Linda, my sister, and Barb Wild (my mom). It looks possible to do Long Horn Steakhouse before church, with Leta saying we need to be there at Grace United Methodist Church at 6:30 as it may be packed for the 7PM service.

Next, I stopped by the ABC Liquor store to find they were sold out of moderate and small sizes of Kailua, so I went for the cheaper version but found a small bottle of Bailey’s and turned heads when I asked for a pint of cheap vodka. They were amused as it was an unusual request for a “Cheap pint of vodka for cooking.” I wished the staff Merry Christmas.

Next, I traveled across Lansing to East Lansing to the new Trader Joe’s, which was not crazy busy in the late afternoon, a surprise to me. Ours would have a line by now. I managed to find everything I needed to make a Vodka sauce pasta dinner. I also get some eggs, breakfast food, and ice cream for dessert. Also, if the pasta is not a hit, then scrambled eggs will do. I will pick up some bread and diet soda tomorrow. The checker learns that it is my first time at this store and that I am from Oregon; she rings the bell, gets a bouquet of flowers paid for by her, and gives them to me to celebrate my first time there and the holidays. “You can use them to decorate your hotel room,” she says after I told her I was making Christmas dinner now in my hotel room. The kindness of strangers always amazes me on my trips!

I load up Air Kia and return to my hotel with flowers, pasta, veggies, and other items. The rain is sleet now, and the salt is everywhere, and it says to me, “Welcome to the Midwest; we can handle shitty weather without a thought.” I returned to my hotel and saw that the salt truck was already covering the parking lot. I get all my groceries and booze to 207 without slipping. I put away everything (though there is no cabinet for food), and soon, with the flowers in a beer glass, it looks like a real kitchen now with the counters full of items for dinner and breakfast.

I rest and nod off after some family drama best not repeated here. The drive, time change, and all the exercise for the last couple of days have left me sleepy. I decided to risk visiting the local BJ’s Brewhouse a few minutes away in Air Kia. The streets and parking lots are just wet. I sat at the bar and had a red ale, one of my favorites. I am not hungry; I ordered the California Flatbread, one of their best items. This version is good, even with the distance to California from East Lansing, Michigan. Two guys are next to me (I have forgotten their names), and they buy me a beer, and we chat. One owns a local bar, and the other travels for a living. I am retired, and they say they are 40 months from that happy moment. I enjoyed the second beer, talking with them, and soon headed out. My head was a little less clear, but driving was OK.

I change into a swimsuit and find the pool with only one stop back to the room for a hotel towel. The water is slightly cool but still warm enough for a twenty-minute swim. I try just floating and see what happens, and my balance sends me into a long arc into the pool wall with a light thud. No pain or risk, just a reminder that I still have to be careful.

Deborah and I send good nights later now that I am in the same time zone. I shower off the pool water and to get warm, and soon have my PJs on and in bed. Sleep is a confusing process in hotel rooms and is never that relaxing on the first night. I set no alarm. I wake to prove hydration, surprised that only a few hours have passed. I wake and sleep and wake and sleep. I am cold, but the temperature is at 69, so I know it is just a reaction to dreams I cannot remember. I woke at 5ish, thought it was too f**king early, and slipped back to sleep.

Thanks for reading!

Plans change, and one must be ready for changes when traveling. Today, it was just too f**king cold to go to an outdoor market. Deborah decided we would change our plans and head to the Rust Belt Market in Ferndale, Michigan. Further, we connected with Jim W and his husband Chris, who could join us after church there. Deborah and I went to elementary and high school with Jim.

I started the day by rising before sunrise at 7 and then started on the blog. I wrote for about an hour in the room but wanted to let the staff clean. I stopped, cleaned myself up, shaved, dressed, and left for the lobby with my Apple. In the lobby, I met the weekend food staff. I don’t remember her name, but she told me she is 70, happy to still work for a living, and still going strong. We talked about the cold, and she was always worried about her hands and suggested gloves; while there may be heaters at the outdoor markets, she would be worried about freezing your hands there, “you might not notice until it happens.”

I had the usual industrial hotel breakfast with excellent baked biscuits and food service-supplied gravy. I get the same scrambled eggs everywhere, but the pork sausage was darkened and better cooked. I also had a banana. I ate and wrote until about 10AM and then published the blog.

Deborah appeared in the blue-colored Air Mini, and I boarded in the single-digit (6F or -14C) weather. It was lovely blue skies with a cold Midwest sun that promised warmth, but not today. We were tightly bound in coats and gloves. We crossed various roads to Highway 75 and headed south to Ferndale, Michigan, which, according to the Internet, is one of the best places to live in Michigan and has a large LGBT+ community.

Soon, we were hunting for parking in Ferndale, and Deborah landed Air Mini in a public parking spot, and we learned parking was free on Sunday. Yay! We walked into the Rust Belt Market, an ample open inside space now divided into little stalls and rooms made from partitions for each vendor and even a radio station for the Market. The items were handmade primarily and ranged from food to antiques (dead things floating in bottles). I found a T-shirt for Z and some cards. I was tempted by the caramel corn and other goodies. The stall that made dried flat flowers was interesting. It was an excellent market, and more importantly, it was warm.

Jim and Chris soon showed up, and we walked two frozen blocks to Anita’s Kitchen to get some Lebanese flavors. We had an off-menu appetizer of whipped goat cheese and hummus with pita chips there. I had the lemon lentil soup and the lamb burger. The food and the desserts, except the rice pudding, were excellent. We talked about old times and newer events. It was a nice time for all.

It was more difficult to leave than to park. All these cars pulled out, and then another driver aggressively took the parking place and had us waiting multiple times to get out of the parking. We took the long way back through Royal Oak to return to Deborah’s home. There, I got to pet the doggies, Zelda and Trixie. Deborah took them out and then fed them. Deborah and I then spent a lovely afternoon together, enjoying each other’s company.

Dinner was just us at RH House, Deborah’s favorite place to get salmon. This is new to me, Scottish salmon and their soup, Tomato Bisque; I got a taste of Deborah’s, which could become a quest for some foodies. It was that good. The salmon was fantastic and was done with a teriyaki hinting sauce over set over rice. Deborah kept half of hers for later.

And I returned to the hotel and called my sister and Mom Wild. Linda and her family were exposed to COVID-19, and thus, the Christmas plans were changed. I am having Christmas with Mom Wild and cooking dinner. Luckily, my hotel room in Lansing includes a stovetop, pans, plates, and even a dishwasher, so we can use it for a Christmas dinner. I am back into caregiver mode and planning. Then, a messy snowstorm is coming on Monday, so I need to get to Lansing around noon. Maybe shop in Lansing instead of here as originally planned, with lunch and some time spent with Deborah.

Well…with images of cooking Vodka sauce for Christmas for Mom Wild…I fell asleep quickly after showering and all that.

Thanks for reading.

 

Saturday started with my being woken by my alarm. I had risen a few times to prove hydration, and it still felt like the middle of the night. I could have slept until late in the local morning! I had one coffee pod left for the Keurig. The coffee purports to be liberal and Fair Trade and is called Green Mountain Coffee Roasters. According to the Internet, its flavor was designed by Keven Costner, and the company has been double-certified organic and fair trade. Yes, I have been drinking liberal coffee all the time here at the Holiday Inn Suites.

With the first cup of liberal coffee, dreaming of universal health care, I started writing the blog and spent the next couple of hours on the blog. I soon cleaned up, dressed, took my laptop to the lobby, had breakfast, and continued writing. A different staff I did not meet today ran the complimentary buffet breakfast–mostly industrial food. However, one staff member was getting some food and coffee while other staff and managers were suggesting they get to work. I smiled and nodded.

A gentleman, younger than me but with gray hair, lectured me (I believe the term is ‘mansplained’) on conservative politics and why he was right, and I was obviously wrong. He was sure that COVID-19 was made in a lab in China (science officially has no answer, but I was told to ‘stay in my lane’ and that there was no way that the virus was from natural processes–he read the reports–the same one I have read that clearly says we still don’t know) and knows that Joe Biden is mentally gone, knows that all the spending was Joe’s fault and that nothing good happened for the last four years than wasting money, and could not explain to me why lifting the debt ceiling was good (it did not happen) and why Trump wants to spend more money beyond the ceiling. He is sure it is a left-wing plot, and it must be stopped. Removing the debt ceiling will allow a balanced budget and reduce spending–somewhat nonsensical to my moderate financial and political stance–was the right thing to do. I was polite, and he tried to argue that gender-affirming help was child abuse, which got me to tell him to stop; I was not going to argue out of my opposing view, which got some respect from him. I also told him I believed he was using logic and that he firmly believed what he said, but I also believed other views as strongly. We shook hands, and he soon left, and I saw him head out of the hotel, flying back to Florida.

I went back to writing and soon completed both breakfast and the blog. Deborah was awake, and we had plans for the day. I put the laptop in the room, which was still not cleaned, got my coat, hat, and car keys, and soon took Air Kia to Deborah’s place using CarPlay and the maps on my phone. Liam was just having breakfast there, and the dogs, Zelda and Trixie, enjoyed my attention. Deborah had a library book to pick up, so we headed there while Liam, her son, continued his morning rituals.

Deborah and I headed to the library, a new and remarkable monument to what can be done right and public. The library was neat and full of services, including Deborah’s favorite: the ability to check out household items for a short time instead of buying them and then putting them in a drawer for years. We marveled at a microfilm reader (they still have them), but now with a digital camera and screen. School was still open, and the place was not busy, but Deborah assured me the place would be filled with younger folks when school was out.

Liam would meet us at the Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA), and we left the local temple of reading and services and headed to Detroit. I drove, and soon, we parked outside the DIA in a near-perfect four-hour space at the base of the steps for the DIA. Our parking would run out about the same time as the movie’s end, British Arrows 2024, so we would rush out after the film.

The gal was friendly and smiled a lot. As a local resident, Deborah gets free access (the locals’ taxes pay for the DIA), while I paid $20, a low price now for a city art center. We waved at the gal, both cashier and information desk when we passed her by a few times. The spirit of the place seemed to me to be pride and wonder.

First, we just spun around in awe of the Diego M. Rivera 1930s frescos in one of the courtyards. We had already smiled at the Pewabic tiles on the floor and used them for a water fountain as we walked into the next courtyard to be stunned, once again, by the beauty and messaging from the 1930s art. The docent updated Deborah, who, as a local teacher, has been here many times. Deborah says she learns something new from a docent each time she visits. Today, we learned that the executive at work combines Henry Ford’s and Edison’s looks. Also, the turbine behind the executive combination figure is shaped like an ear, representing the spying Ford ordered on his employees (something illegal now). The docent also showed us the image of Rivera slipped into the painting.

After enjoying the fresco, we headed downstairs for lunch. We found that the Kresge Court had a great club sandwich with cranberry sauce and homemade potato chips for us; we passed on the café. The area resembles a medieval castle courtyard crossed with the Tavern of the Green. Excellent. Deborah was served by a former student, and they were happy to see each other.

We wandered for a bit, finding just a few sets of armor that did not match my childhood memory of rooms with this stuff. Liam joined us, and we headed to the rooms of excellent Impressionists. It was always a treat. And while the DIA collection can not compete with the volume at Chicago’s museum, the quality and relevance of the twenty or so paintings were excellent (more modern, but what I would still call Impressionists were elsewhere and will have to wait for another day). The self-portraits and landscapes were terrific, and a Van Gough still-life had me confusing him with others–a most excellent example of shared styles.

My Sunday school teacher took over as we visited the mummy collection in the Egyptian Arts section. I also marveled at the recipes from four thousand years ago from the Middle East, making my IT heart happy to see ancient document storage (fired clay) still working after thousands of years. Yes, that is a receipt for a cow from three thousand years ago!

We reconnected with Liam, who got lunch while we wandered, and headed to the attached theater, an old-style theater with a stage set for a movie. It was general seating, something you don’t see that much now, and we sat close to the front with an aisle for Liam.

I forgot my hat at the Kresge Court and rushed there, found it exactly where I left it, and then rushed back. The info desk staff and the security folks waved me through and smiled. With the tragedy of another lost hat avoided, I was ready to enjoy the British Arrow awards choices for 2024 with Deborah and Liam. These are the Best British Commercial Ads awards. As you, dear reader, can imagine, the ads ran from sad to insane, and some were on the edge of tears or slap-sticks. I cried and sobbed on the one about end-of-life services and why it is OK. Recommended, Arrow Awards 2024!

Deborah and I reached Air Kia in the still-freezing air before I had a mandatory payment to the City of Detroit and returned to her house. Trixie and Zelda were happy to see us, get fed, and be taken out. Trixie leaned into me, seemed weak, and pushed me to pet her, but belied her weakness when she leaped in the air and dived for the food when Deborah brought out their dishes. Deborah believes that Trixie learned to be cute and docile when she was a stray. Deborah adopted the former stray. Trixie’s look worked on me!

Deborah recommended Lucky’s Prime Time for prime rib. The place was packed, but we got a seat at the bar when a family of three held a spot for us. The prices are slow for the food quality, and Luck’s Prime Time is a Michigan chain of two places. We had the prime rib, 16 oz, for about $24, and we took 1/2 of it as leftovers. We also had a few glasses of excellent, not-too-sweet wine, Chateau Grand Traverse Late Harvest Riesling, a Michigan wine. The folks next to us were having dinner with their daughter back from college for the holiday. It was a happy bunch as we marveled at each other’s food. The guy beside me had a smaller prime rib with a massive slab of ribs. He was impressed with the enormous slabs Deborah and I got, and I said they were middle-sized versions!

And with dinner done, I think I will stop there. Thanks for reading!