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I rose later, around 8AM. I had slept but rose once for proof of hydration. I woke at 5, 6, and 7, still sleepy, rolled over, and tried to sleep some more. Waking and seeing it was past 8 on my clock, I rose and put on my slippers. I was wide awake already to start my morning.

And a song for those who stay up all night: here.

My mornings now mean writing the blog and updating myself with the news, emails, and transactions for Quicken. It is no longer rushing to prepare for the first meetings at the shoe company here or at the office. Dressing and getting ready for the rest of the day is delayed until I finish the blog. There is no sense of rush or working.

The movement in food production to use cooperatives and provide a reasonable price for items has produced excellent products like Equal Exchange brand items, including coffee, chocolate, dried fruits, and nuts. There is a Fair Trade logo for other products. Please look for these brands or logos; they cost more, but they are, as they say, fair-traded.

When I lift my cup of liberal coffee, black in the morning, it is flavored with justice and kindness. We are called by God, and I think the universe, to justice and compassion, even in a cup of joe. My coffee speaks to me in the morning and says, “Here is justice!” Drink deeply and listen to the liberal coffee! “Here is compassion!”

With all the justice and compassion in my coffee, I had yogurt and toast. The toast finished my two-serving little jars of jam. Instead of having large jars of jam, I bought a handful of these jars with different flavors. There is only me here. Yum, Orange Marmalade is a favorite for me.

I wrote my blog, tried to recall the previous day, and filled in my set pieces (boilerplates, if you like). I also looked at the dirty dishes to remember lunch. I remembered, and soon, the day was being recreated in words in WordPress. I enjoyed my craft, and the day’s story was decorated here and there with some fun writing.

I did remember something later and inserted that; it often happens even a day later. Memory is not linear; it is more like hooks for ornaments and paper chains on a Christmas tree that is your previous day. You will remember them in bright bits, and then handmade chains slowly form and connect once you find the start. You can never recall the whole tree, just bits. Slowly, the image reforms and is transformed into a story.

I let the morning expire, and I am still not dressed. I make lunch in my PJs, a BLT with one of Dondrea’s tomatoes. I watch more ShipHappens, a show about rebuilding a WW2 small ship. They are testing their engines on the old boat, and the port engine has a cooling issue. Water is not following through the engine. The through-hull is blocked, and when they cleared it, a wincing moment to watch, the water rushed into the ship (a through-hull is a hole in the hull that lets water in, hopefully in a controlled manner). They managed to shut the valve. Oh my. The port engine worked once they cleaned the filter, unblocked the through-hull, and reconnected everything. Yikes.

I was dressed, and it was a lovely sunny but hot day, so I decided to head to Portland and the Chinese garden. I boarded Air Volvo after checking that my iPhone and Kindle were correctly synced. I only needed to take the iPhone. I brought up the Hop app and soon, after four tries, got my app to recognize the scan post at the station with Air Volvo parked in the free parking lot. The new cars are excellent on the red line now extended to our area.

I read and enjoyed the trip. The tunnel is loud, but my new less hearing means less noise, an unexpected bonus. Soon, I am at the last stop, China Town, before crossing the river and de-train. It is two blocks from the garden.

I gave my ID and soon got a pass; I am a member with a two-person pass. At the entrance, I am told I am minutes from the start of a tour and join the tour. Charles is giving a tour; we soon learn he is a former school teacher. He lectures and has a plan for his lesson. I asked many questions, as others did, and to Charle’s credit, he can ‘check and adjust’ and answered our questions as best as he could. He changed his talk to fit our group, and we focused on plants more. He covers about 1/2 of the garden and illuminates for me the purpose of some of the rooms and what a Scholar’s Garden is. The Portland Garden is designed after the existing Scholar’s Gardens in China. A couple, Brent and Anne, befriended me, and we exchanged information. They have just sold their house, stored their items, and now are touring, looking at possible places to live, and enjoying the travel. They have been traveling for months, and Anne let me know that after a hot and sticking month in Boston, that location is off the list.

I have a snack and tea at the tea house, wonton soup and wontons. I walk through the garden, prepare to leave, and buy the books containing translations of the inscriptions (Charles had one, and they are in the gift shop) when I see I am missing a credit card. I walk back to the tea house and find it. It is gray colored on gray tiles. It had fallen out of my pocket (a new hazard of looser fitting pants). I know I should return the card to my wallet each time I use it, but I made an error, slipped it in my pocket, and forgot it. I am happy to recover the loss and buy the book.

I walk to Ground Kontrol (only a few blocks from the garden), as I still have some credit left on my card. Security gives me a blue wristband, signaling I am allowed to order adult drinks, but instead, I head to the pinball machines and prove that these low scores are possible even when trying. In one pinball game, I believe I never hit the ball with a paddle, creating a score so low the machine gave me a free ball. Yes, I get pity from the machines! I managed one good game, for me, on the newer Adam’s Family machine (the classic ones that survive are now collector items and not found here for mere mortals to use). This was followed by two dreadful games. I also tried to play the old Tron game, remembering Eric mastering it and winning, but I never completed a light cycle contest in three plays (yes, I never left the RPG level, my first programming language I learned on the job). The older video games are half-priced here, which is an incentive for me. I returned to pinball and enjoyed that more. There is a room for new edgy games that are higher priced, but I never bother to do more than look at them. Still, I enjoyed myself and will be back.

Next, I walk to the local Irish pub, Kells, and have a locally made Irish-style red. I also ordered and ate a shepherd’s pie very slowly, so hot from the oven that I warmed my hands over it. I read Slow Horses on my iPhone and just relax. I am in no hurry today, and the beer hits me harder. I decide on dessert and read more. The bread pudding and coffee are perfect together.

I walked a short distance to the MAX station. It was cool, and I only had a T-shirt. I quickly boarded a train. A couple boarded, and I gave up my seat for them. I got a seat a few stops later, as the train soon emptied. The gal lost her bracelet in the seat. The other passengers and I helped her get it out of the benches. It had fallen off her wrist and into the space between the bench and the wall. She was relieved and managed to get it back before her stop.

Air Volvo was there when I de-trained. I soon returned home and decided to try Kaos on Netflix. Imagine our world ruled by the Greek gods and all the advertisements and culture directed towards the gods. This is an excellent re-skinning of our world. The series retells the myths mixing freely from American Gods, a reality TV format, and current shows like Wednesday and the Sandman. I managed two episodes but found none of the characters sympathetic, like in Greek myths. I cannot recommend it, but it is well-executed and worth a peek to see if you like it.

I did not return to coding, writing, or some church work. I will have to rise early on Thursday to do that. I read more Slow Horses, which is getting better. The first season seems to closely follow the book’s story and pathos. So far, I can keep going.

I closed my Kindle (which did sync with my iPhone reading). I managed to fall asleep before midnight. I do wake at 3ish to prove hydration.

Thanks for reading.

I rose late, rolling over at 6ish and 7ish, finally putting on my slippers and leaving my comfortable bedroom to start my day nearing 8. While I do not feel I really start the day until I change out of my PJs, I spend the morning writing the blog, which is done in PJs, as is making breakfast. Breakfast is liberal coffee, half a can of canned pears (juice mostly ignored), and small curd cottage cheese with a dash of sea salt and smoked paprika. I am out of bananas.

While drinking coffee is not a prayer, in some ways, it resembles praying. It brings us focus, especially liberal coffee, which reminds us that we are even helping people with our coffee, and the bitterness reminds us there is so much more to do. Most mornings, we leave behind the shades of sleep, start to sharpen our minds, our day comes into focus, and we sip our brew. It is a ritual. We take it black, with milk or cream, and with sweaters and complex if a barista is around (or you or your partner takes on that role). We believe in coffee! We look into our cup and see the swirls that will soon be inside us and helping us start. Lift up your liberal cup with me, friends, feel that holiness from being granted another day, call out Hallelujah, and drink! My sermon, “Welcome to the rest of your life! I take mine black or with cream.” Amen.

That means I must choose a song for this morning’s caffeinated worship: Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. For me, the ‘Secret Cord’ is French Roast, black or with cream, and Equal Exchange brand. We should not forget something from the Moody Blues’ progress rock album Search for the Lost Chord: here, the recessional, if you like.

Returning to the narration, I wrote a long blog and enjoyed writing and being creative on Tuesday morning. It took all morning to write a better-than-usual 1,600 words. Tuesday was quiet, and I coded through much of it. I did my usual reading of the news and switched to the Jerusalem Post for some of my news with the wars heating up in the Middle East. I read the ‘liberal’ press, which is not how I would describe the NY Times. And CNN for events (Ok, they might be ‘liberal,’ but I still don’t see too many stories about helping people), and searched the Internet for information on North Carolina and Asheville. We heard from Glenda and Joyce at Brooks-Howell Home in Asheville today (Susie’s aunts). They are OK, and the retirement facilities took no damage from the storms (they had one before the hurricane). They are managing without power and water to the building as there is a nearby church with power and water. Toilets are being flushed with water from the pool. We, the family scattered all over the USA, are much relieved.

I dress, write some AI Python code, mostly copying from examples, and then go for a long walk, adding about 4,000 steps (I finished Tuesday with 4,600+ steps). Lunch is reheated eggplant parmesan that I have wrapped in plastic wrap and then in foil to freeze. I toss the foil and partially heat the food in the microwave to loosen the plastic wrap. Once unwrapped, I heat the food for four minutes and let it sit, balance, and reach an edible temperature. It is excellent, and the breading stops the eggplant from disappearing in the cheese and sauce.

Corwin got paid, and he is still repaying me for his truck. He stopped by with my money and took one of my good spare headphones–I don’t need two. Mariah asked to have dinner together, and soon Corwin and I were in Air Volvo, stuck traveling 17 miles, mainly with Air Volvo at 12 miles an hour or less, for much of the hour-long trip. We did have to gas Air Volvo, which delayed us enough to push us into rush hour. We arrived after 5 with Mariah waiting for us. We were at Nudi Noodles in SE Portland, a local food joint about good Asian food and incredible but weird drinks, and not about naked dancers. It does make for a disturbing transaction in Quicken! I have the kiwi margarita and the boat noodles with beef and more beef of various types in a heavy beef broth.

Corwin is creating music with an AI tool. I am mostly listening as I am not good with music, mixing, or playing instruments, I am interested in some aspects, but mostly, I am over my head. It sounded exciting. I have not looked into sound and Python as they are not things I understand well.

I could not hear the dessert’s name, but I ordered one. Crème Brûlée Sweet Potato is an excellent finish. Mariah and I shared one. Corwin’s dessert disappeared in a moment. It is a wonderful holiday idea and a good use for yams. Hmmm.

Air Volvo had no problem taking Powell out of Portland to Beaverton and across Beaverton. I was not paying enough attention and was over 75 a few times. I was still going slow for the I-must-get-home-now Oregonians likely headed home to help with homework after a soccer game with the kids. While I saw no lousy lane changes, I did feel like someone was shooting mini-vans and SUVs from a cannon at me, borrowing from Charles Stross. Or, borrowing from Douglas Adams, the improbability drive changed, and it was very improbable, the Oregonians to speed-loving drivers. I am sure the effect has worn off by now.

I showered and dressed early. I read for a while, finishing The Long Way Home: A Chief Inspector Gamache Novel (A Chief Inspector Gamache Mystery Book 10), which was another well-written and excellent story. The author, Lousie Penny, tells a poetic tale somehow mixed with crime and mystery. When I am done, I always think, “How does she do that!” I started Slow Horses after the show and discovered that there are actually eight books, not three, as Amazon stated earlier. Amazon doesn’t update their information as much as they suggest. It is harder to read than the Inspector Gamache books but not as opaque as other spy and crime novels I have tried and abandoned. Surprisingly, indirect storytelling and imprecise language are captured in the look of the TV series. 

I returned to coding after finding that I was scanning and not reading Slow Horses. Switching from the near-perfect prose of The Long Way Home is a poor choice. I discovered that much of the code I used was wrong and built for something else. My AI classifier selects a choice from five options without making a real number value. I instead looked up and remembered that I could ask the classifier model to rate itself. The model was at 59%, terrible, but random would be 20% (with five choices). Likely, the model is overfitting as I have not spent time removing matching features. Generally, you want very different data to find the subtle differences. Using features (columns in the data) that closely match makes the AI model guess these values should be more valuable, thus overfitting. I should drop columns from the training and test. I managed to get just under 61% by tuning the model parameters. I follow Ernest’s style and copy in all the parameters, but I don’t comment on the starting values like Ernest (it is available online). I started making mistakes and stopped after 11. Time to sleep.

I read a few more screens of Slow Horses on my Kindle, put it away, and went to sleep. I managed to sleep past midnight through the night.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

I had no plans for Monday, and my sleep was deep and ended near 8. I might have woken a few times, but the 1/2 Benedryl had stopped the itchiness I sometimes get and put me out, and I have no memory of rising. I don’t like to use things like Benedryl as they often have a hangover that makes it hard to rise, but it still helps when my allergies expand to hives or just being uncomfortable. The tired I felt Sunday was gone, as were the hives. Better!

A year back, rising for work at the shoe company was described more like Dracula floating out of his coffin to discover it was not night. Ugh! Now, I wake with joy that I have another day. With Susie’s passing, my brain tumor recovery, being retired by Nike, and cancer with chemotherapy, I am always happy and often amazed to have another day and to awake well and ready to find what will be included in this bonus day. While unbidden, even depression and sadness are welcome, as it still means I have another day. Good morning!

Joy! I make joy in my French press with coffee that reminds me that we can help others by buying coffee that does not take advantage of poor farmers in South America, Equal Exchange band. The coffee in my cup is pure, dark, and bitter, reminding us there is much more to do. On the red bag of coffee, it says I am a “citizen consumer,” and my choices matter. I feel hope and caffeine when I taste liberal coffee.

With the kitchen found, it has not moved, and coffee made, I start on the next blog. I also text a few good mornings while I am writing, read emails, read the news (political and about the war in the Middle East), and update my Quicken with the latest transactions. Quicken downloads most transactions (saving bonds, 401K, and CD interest are done manually, usually every month) and helps me ensure no unplanned (theft) activity on the accounts, and I (and the tax authorities) know how my money flows.

I fry bacon with enough extra to make BLT later. I crack two eggs, each time in a small bowl, and pour the egg in the hot bacon grease. The non-stick pan is perfect, and the eggs are soon loose in the hot fat. I swirl them around carefully and splash a little bacon goodness over them. I carefully flip the mostly cooked eggs in the hot grease for an over-easy finish. A banana and two eggs over-easy with bacon are breakfast with my cup of pure liberal joy.

I spend the early morning writing the blog, reading, and texting. After the blog is done, I dillydally and surf the Internet, but soon decide I need to dress. Dressing is how I mentally accept that I have things to do during the day; otherwise, I could stay in PJs (or less) all day and do nothing. Dressed, I started writing code on the Kaggle website, remembering my Python and Pandas.

Aside: Pandas is an extensive add-on library for Python. It is a database-like add-on that lets me easily manipulate data to align it for acceptance by AI handling routines from yet another library: sklearn (scikit-learn is the organization name). All of this uses the super fast and older numpy, which reminds me of the FORTRAN math libraries I used years ago in college. Pandas, sklearn, and numpy are the ‘trinity’ of AI coding and the brilliant work of thousands of developers (often, these libraries are updated together to improve their interactions and speed), and all are Open Source. Yes, nobody owns them.

I managed a tiny bit of progress in my code. I have plenty of time on the coding contest and have much to relearn and discover. I review an example and am sure the code is poor and wrong. I take a long walk in the neighborhood, gain 3,000 steps (4,600+ for the day), and rethink the code while walking. I used to do this at work and even back at college; walk and code in my mind. The steps create a beat that pushes your mind. I am sure the example code is questionable and broken. I am also concerned that I am including an error in my design from the example, a shortcut I have made before that is cheap but could fail. I will have to accept that risk for now. I will look for a means to mitigate or remove it.

I return to The Volvo Cave and rest for a while, reading and napping. I rise again and open a 16oz can (1/2 size) of Bush’s Orginal Baked Beans with bacon and brown sugar (it is an American thing), plus a piece of toast to eat with it (not British style with the beans on the toast) for lunch. It was good. I bought a case of these cans because I liked them; they are inexpensive on Amazon, and this covers me for a week’s supply of food for a disaster that requires nothing more than a can opener (I have a manual one, a battery-powered one, and an electric can opener).

Back to coding and learning how to use Pandas and sklearn routines to solve issues in the data set I have been given in the contest. While not full of mistakes and text issues, it takes me all afternoon to devise a cleaning of the data. I finally loaded the data into an AI model, and it failed. Time to make dinner!

I was talking to Deborah on my iPhone when I remembered I had an eggplant left and saw it was fading fast. Soon, I imagine the expiring eggplant would rise in a cheap black-and-white horror movie, become an undead veggie, and slap me around. I rang off and addressed the issue. Soon, the threat was resolved with the pieces of the veggie soaking in saltwater with a plate and a cup pushing them under water. No undead rising today!

I found a stir-fry recipe but had no fresh ginger, so I added onions and garlic. While it was pretty plain in flavor, it was eggplant, after all. Dinner was not terrible, with some jasmine rice made to go with the stirfry adding more flavor. Next time, I needed even more garlic and spices. Also, I would soak the eggplant in milk to add more flavor to the veggie.

I watched more Slow Horses, season 4, on Apple+. The new season has all-new stories (the books ran out in season three), and I like it, but it does feel different. It is more subtle, and I like that.

I’m back to coding, but to do that, Wildwood Taphouse would better suit my mood. Air Volvo gets me there without effort. Soon, I have a red ale, pretzels, and Kaggle on my laptop, sitting on a metal stool. Dave is the bartender, and I have not met him before; I learned he usually works the other Wildwood on the other side of Beaverton. I coded the changes needed to align the data so there were no holes. Data frames allow for a no-data or null condition, but AI models need a value. I have to impune values. I look at examples and adopt their strategies but use, I think, a better organization to the code. I also keep to my process of not changing the data supplied to train the AI model but aligning instead a copy of the original. Mistakes happen and are hard to spot if you have changed your starting point.

Aside: I do not have a pronoun for Ryan in the following story, which means you will find Ryan’s name used, not a pronoun; it can be repetitive. I will not assign a gender when a name is what I have. I take it as a challenge to make this not read stilted.

I use the sklearn data splitting process and train my model. A few mistakes mean more beer and pretzels. While others would see this as work, I am enjoying every moment.

A chef I have met, Ryan, sits beside me at the bar and nearly spits out the supplied beer when I tell Ryan I am coding AI. I, more beer helping both of us, cheerfully explain how and why the AI works. I showed my fellow bar sitter the data and how I aligned it. I expect an 80% solution once I tune the model. It’s not good enough to win the contest, but it’s fair. The chef is elated to have someone demonstrate how and why this works.

Ryan is fascinated by my AI work and its possible application to cooking. We talk animatedly about the parameters for bread making and pizza crusts. Ryan is an expert at pizza and Italian-style food and serves as a chef at a local restaurant. My fellow beer drinker explained that the recipes that were perfected in Las Vegas, Ryan’s previous gig was in the desert city, did not work in Portland as the air, flour, and water are different here, meaning cooks and chefs must change recipes to make a good pizza and bread here from something that works in Las Vegas. Ryan wondered if we had accurate measurements that an AI could adjust a pizza crust recipe for various locations. Is there a decision tree and data that could make this an equation? Ryan had much to think about while enjoying more beer.

Thinking of AI coding and my model at least being accepted in my code, pay the bill, say good night to Ryan and Dave, and head home after boarding Air Volvo. More code to evaluate the model is next. Home without incident, I read and soon showered and dressed for bed. I managed to sleep without any assistance from painkillers or Bendril.

Thanks for reading.

I was able to sleep in just a bit on Sunday. I woke tired and was tired all day. While writing the blog, I drank all the coffee and had a banana and yogurt to start the morning. The liberal coffee helped me get started. And while the coffee wakes me up, I am grateful that it is an Equal Exchange product, and thus, the farmers received a fair payment for the coffee and are not suffering from weak coffee prices. My cup of coffee helps the world be fair. Yes, I have a cup, savor the liberal, and “woke” up.

I am time-boxed on Sunday, but the church service has moved to 11, giving me another thirty minutes. While there is little difference, the change makes the morning easier. I wrote the story of Saturday, telling the story backward, and managed over 800+ words.

I decided on a sweater vest and pride tie for church. I cleaned up, shaved, and dressed. I still use Utterly Smooth most mornings with 20% Urea (cow pee) on my toes and fingers. While I don’t know if it does anything, my hands and feet are not entirely numb from Chemotherapy and diabetes and seem to have remained unchanged over the year. Results may vary, but I continue to use the cow pee: here.

Air Volvo crossed Beaverton without issue or any entanglements with Beaverton’s Finest. The other church that shares our facility was ramping down, and I had to take one of the last parking spots. It’s all good. I’m happy to see the facility get heavy use. I was early and saw that we had no usher. I stood and started to help people.

Folks admitted they were just there for a coffee, and I helped them get some. They stayed for a bit and then decided to leave. I made sure they knew they were welcome and also welcome to leave. I stand, count, and watch. One of the usher’s jobs is to ensure everyone is safe and that if someone gets in distress, I help them and call 911 (with the pastor’s approval or the worship leader’s agreement). I don’t have a badge or white gloves, which is a tradition in some churches, but I just try to be your friendly local Methodist church person. “Good morning!”

I pass the plate and walk it to the altar. Dondrea gives me a smile; last week, she had to do it while leading the worship service. Nothing unexpected happens, and soon, I am drinking too much coffee (my head is spinning with caffeine in the afternoon).

Dondrea gave the sermon “Why I hate Sundays.” Her point of her rather direct sermon was the recognition that many people apply rules and make Sundays more miserable and guilt-filled than holy. The Sabbath was meant for doing good, as recorded in John’s Gospel in chapter 5. Dondrea points out that God wants us to celebrate the creation, rest, and find holiness by slowing down for the Sabbath. Dondrea recognized that social issues mean that many folks must work Sundays to earn enough to survive. Dondrea also suggests that the Sabbath can be in the moment, not the whole day. To use my words for her sermon, the Sabbath is not about not working and following rules but doing something different to find the holiness in the creation, even for a moment.

After stopping at the Volvo Cave to get my laptop, I had lunch at McMenamins Cedar Hills. I had a Captain Neon burger (blue cheese and bacon) and a Ruby beer. I spoke to the manager and arranged for the 10 October 2024 Theology Pub to meet there; this is our first meeting not on Zoom since the pandemic. We need at least ten people (please come, you local folks) at 7 p.m. on the second Thursday in October.

Lunch and the excess coffee were not settling, so I returned home in Air Volvo and rested. I read and tried to sleep (sometimes this helps to settle the caffeine), but Corwin called. His truck was out of coolant, and he was stranded at Fred Myers at Beaverton Town Center. I put on my shoes and boarded Air Volvo. Soon, I picked up Corwin and took him to Red Robin, where Susie’s favorite bartender, Chin, worked this Sunday. Corwin had a burger and lots of fries. I had a giant dessert, thinking it was just a slice of pie-sized. I did not finish it, and Chin put it in the frig until we left. An hour passed, and the truck was cool enough to fill when we returned to it. I bought an extra gallon of premixed coolant for the vehicle, just in case. Corwin headed home, and the issue was resolved. More coolant was needed after he drove it, something I predicted as the air cleared from the system.

I reviewed some more AI code and what I wrote on Saturday morning. I was still tired and feeling off. I brought up Slough House on Apple+ and watched the start of season 4. You can see that this is written for the BBC and not an American show when they kill a main character in the first episode. Americans would think about selling toys representing each character, not scaring that audience by killing someone. This is also the first season not connected to a book (there are three books and a book of stories), and I can see we are going to new places. Excellent.

Tired and feeling strange, I realize I never ate dinner. I reheat the leftover chicken and mashed potatoes and have that. I am now feeling better. Still tired, I shower and dress for bed. I read but cannot sleep. I am itchy and have pain in my legs. I took some meds to help me stop the pain and the allergy reactions. I finally sleep before 1.

Thanks for reading.

 

Going backward, I arrived at an Air Volvo at about 11:30 from Richard’s place. The trip home was not without adventure. The tall bridge and the lunch-like ramp were not issues; other drivers were going fast, and some were racing. This is a Portland issue; we lack police to stop the racing. The Volvo safety features locked me to my seat when I slammed the brakes at 60 when a car cut off another, braked, and took the exit. I was two cars back and did not see it at first. No paint loss for Air Volvo. The bells went off when a car took a short left turn across four lanes, but I had plenty of time for that one. Since back-to-school, the intensity of driving in Portland has a marked increase, and the weekend racing and 90+ speeding have not improved safety! I went by one accident on Highway 26 with cars sprayed over the grassy medium.

I showered and soon began reading. I fell asleep while reading and put the Kindle down. I soon fell asleep. I had breathing issues from the pollen and had a nightmare of being trapped in smaller and smaller spaces. I woke up, got my inhaler, calmed down, and finally slept again. Ugh!

Returning to 5ish, I had finished Lobster Bisque soup and headed to Richard’s for games. The soup is from Trader Joe’s and comes in a plastic container. I just carefully heat it in a pan. The drive across Beaverton and Portland was without incident and was in light traffic. The intensity was in the late evening.

Richard and Lauren were finishing a new fun card game called Marvel-based Comic Hunter. In this game, you create a collection of comic books and score higher for popular heroes and randomly selected characteristics like costume changes. Lauren lost to Richard by one point and was not happy. James, who soon joined us, and Richard collected comic books, and the cards in Comic Hunter show a high-quality image of real issues in demand. They lovingly looked at the cards and said they had this one and that one as we played.

But before we played the card game, I requested an older game, Suburbia, which had not hit the table in a while. Richard has the giant box version (including all the extensions plus more selling now for about $200), but we played only the basic version. It has been more than six months since we played it, maybe longer. While Richard set up, we watched a how-to-play video, and soon, the simulation of building a city in a world of cities was running. The game contains rules that some city areas, printed cardboard hexes, pay not just in your city but for other cities run by the other players. Soon, James was receiving four coins for every green living space placed. This means you have to watch other players play, and the game plays fast, and there are no rounds; just pay for new city hexes or take another action, get paid, and move on to the next player. I like the game; once you understand it, it is fun. There were also four public goals for twenty points each; Richard took three, and I won one. I also made my secret goal for another ten points.

(the 3-D parts I printed and painted for Richard, one of my few successes with my 3-D printer)

Richard won by a lot, but I scored second, with Lauren chasing me by just a few points and James just a bit further back. Richard focused on income, not the scoring, and soon built an engine in his cities that gave him first place. Still, Suburbia and then Comic Hunter were good games, and we all agreed that we would enjoy them again.

Before all this, I was home writing code, doing laundry and dishes, and cleaning up a few dusty spaces. The house still needs a good cleaning someday. I started aligning the data in my Kaggle coding contest, copying from others but only the code I understood, and then changing it to match my code’s variable names and structure. I still spent most of my time reading, understanding, and looking up what some code executes in the online manuals. I am still unsure of my Pandas in Python. This code is more Pythonic (i.e., using the unique tricks of Python internals) and less straightforward steps.

I walked and took some steps, but my back was sore. The chair I am using seems to be the issue. I had to rest and read to get rid of the pain. Hmmm. Lunch was reheated leftovers of spatchcocked chicken, mashed potatoes, and wilted garlic green beans. It was excellent a second time.

I rose at 7 and soon had liberal coffee in my cup, dreaming of eight years of Harris as president, followed by the next Democratic president, Pete Buttigieg, for sixteen and twenty if you include Biden. And while some of you, dear readers, think there must be something more than coffee in my drink, yes, the dream is alive in liberal caffeinated hearts like mine. Twenty! When not dreaming (or delusual), I find yogurt and a banana to add to the coffee and get going.

I start my usual morning by reading emails and news (primarily political and the waring around the Middle East) and updating my Quicken transactions from my credit cards and banking. I then start on the blog and write much of the day as I remember it. I think I recorded much of it.

And that takes me to the whole of Saturday. Thanks for reading!