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Today, my mind played games with me, and I kept forgetting things and doing things out of order. Your subconscious knows it will not be a good day to remember things when there is pain, and it tries to steer you away from them. Susie left us last year on this same day of the week, and while the date is Sunday, Susie left us on this Friday last year. There are blogs for those days if you, dear reader, want to page back just over 360 or so days ago, but here is the link to the story of a year ago: Today 13Oct2023 Susie’s Passing. I have not gone back a year in the blog and read it, but I remember writing it and what it says; I will remember until I don’t remember anything anymore.

But my mind was trying to protect me, and I wrote and enjoyed writing the blog. Dear reader, I appreciate knowing that these words will at least be read by some and enjoyed. Thank you, reader!

But, enough tears on a lovely, sunny, cold morning here in Oregon. The rains have abated, and we will have chilly mornings and warm afternoons for the next days as the leaves turn and fall (and are not melted off the trees by the rains into a sticky mess). We might even enjoy raking the leaves this year. Bring on the cider, donuts, Halloween parties, and haunted houses! Remember, the time change in the USA is after trick-or-treat!

Finally returning to Friday’s narrative, I rose early, around 6, made liberal coffee, and started to write. My writing wandered a bit, but I managed to retell the story of Thursday and complete and publish the blog by 11ish. I made breakfast to go with brightness in my coffee cup, liberal. I fried bacon strips, made without pink salt, and then in the hot bacon drippings, I poured two eggs. I break the eggs into a small bowl, as I am not good with eggs, and slide the eggs into the hot grease. With care, I slosh the eggs around in the hot bacon fat and finish them with a flip for over-easy eggs. I popped them out soon and did not overcook the yokes; they ran golden on the plate. I was out of sequence and made toast last, but everything was hot when it landed on the table. Delicious.

Again, this was my mind, having me cook and write and avoid connecting with the dates and sad moments. Do things that are complex enough to distract you, and I did. I cooked breakfast, dressed, and then made a huge lunch that would be leftovers for the rest of the week. Pasta with sweet Italian sausage and sauce from a jar was soon assembled and enjoyed.

I remember, after a while, boarding Air Volvo and heading to hummingbird house by way of Safeway. At Safeway, I bought flowers; they have the best flowers and decent prices, and they cross Beaverton following a familiar path. I arrived at the hummingbird house, where Jennifer and Luis were enjoying the sleep afternoon and the start of making dinner. We remember today and Susie. The flowers are accepted and arranged; I always bring flowers, usually two sets. One for Susie’s room and one for the shared living area. Susie would see flowers from me everywhere she went at hummingbird house. We spent time together, and there were smiles as we shared a few stories.

Aside: Here is the website for the hummingbird house.

I returned home, and then Air Volvo departed for BJ’s Brewhouse. There, now fitting in a booth (a new experience for me), I took the last seat in the bar area. Mo was my waiter, and I had Bourbon and Ginger, Wild Turkey, to remember Susie. I ordered the dinner I would usually take back to Susie and Corwin at The Volvo cave: Full Rack of Ribs. Susie would often just want to rest and watch M.A.S.H. instead of going out, and Corwin would rise when the sunset and frequently resembled undead. I would have dinner alone, watch football, talk to the waiter, and bring them an excellent dinner they could eat at their convenience. They would split the rack at BJs, and Corwin soon learned (there was some yelling) not to eat the second rack without permission. Susie often left a rib for later, and Corwin soon discovered it was unwise to eat that. I ordered ribs and will have them for Saturday’s lunch; maybe I’ll leave one for a later snack. Mo got me a reservation at BJ for Sunday night. She might visit for a drink to remember Susie.

I was sad and depressed in the evening and found it hard to rise out of the darkness. I finally turned on the lights, did some laundry and dishes, and watched more of “Vox Machina,” an excellent animated series based on Dungeons and Dragons and a comic book. It uses ‘f**k’ more like the word ‘very’ and contains some adult content, but it is light and fun. Recommended. It reminds me of many of my role-playing game experiences.

Feeling better, the darkness is gone, but the sadness remains. I shower and put on my PJs. I am not ready to sleep and go for something in the back of my mind; I ask Amazon Echo to play the War of the Worlds album from the Progressive Rock Music era of the 1970s and 80s. I enjoy the first part and the best section and stop it at the Thunderchild, and with Progressive vibes, I soon sleep the night through.

Thanks for reading!

I rose late for my busy morning and started writing more and more. Sometimes, it is just fun to think and share and know that someone, you dear reader, will likely read it, or at least skim it. I went on (and on and on) about my AI programming on Thursday and our game of Concordia. I had time for coffee (liberal), oatmeal (pumpkin with pecans), and peaches from a can. The writing is not a burden but more of a friendly chat (like this).

I was frustrated with my weight, which had remained unchanged for two months or more at 234 pounds, with occasional increases to 238 and then a reversed return to 234. Recently, I noticed some of my clothing was loose, and my new pants fit better. I refused to look for two weeks. I lost six pounds and finally broke into the 220s with 228 pounds. I know that many people struggle with weight loss, and I seem to lose weight easier than most. My secret to this magical loss is brain surgery, a history of overeating from stress, and cancer with chemo. It’s not a weight loss plan I would recommend. I have also increased my excising by traveling and walking instead of a gym membership, coaches, various equipment, exercise shoes, and apparel. I think travel is cheaper.

While I like my coffee “black as death” or “dark like my soul,” I put too much coffee in the French press, with more than an inch of coffee grounds floating in the device. I could feel the coffee! Yes, liberal-empowered writing all morning!

I wrote all morning and finally finished the blog around 11. I had been texting, reading, and updating Quicken while writing. I started late and finished the same way. I was still in my pajamas when Scott sent a note that he was just leaving. Oops. It is Thursday, and Scott and I have lunch at about 11:45. I rush, clean up, shave, and head out dressed and arrive just after noon at Elephant’s Delicatessen at Cedar Hills Crossing in Beaverton. Scott quipped, “Did I reach you while still in your PJ?” Yes, he did.

Lunch was a cherry seltzer and a tuna melt sandwich; Scott had BLT. We talked about my travels and Scott’s plans. Scott related his experience giving a tour at Nike WHQ and how he saw many folks randomly. We meet every week or so (with breaks for trips and events), and I listen to Scott and update him on items he read about in the blog. Scott is headed to a beach to celebrate 25 years of marriage next week, and I will be, assuming there are no new storms–none on the maps, in New Orleans next week (NOLA).

Scott heads out in his red jeep while I board Air Volvo, and we head separate ways. I return to the Volvo Cave and return to coding for a few minutes. I update my calendar and have a new plan to check my calendar every morning.

The afternoon is a blur with calls and cooking sausages for Friday’s lunch. I finish watching the next episode of “Only Murders in the Building.” I was not disappointed, and they managed to mix over-the-top, a crime show and a comedy without losing a thread or bogging down, even with a pile of new characters. Excellent.

I head early to McMenamins Pub at Cedar Hills Crossing. Becka will be our server, and we have ten chairs arranged on tables in the airport room. The room remembers the Bernard Airport that once existed in the same area. With a few adjustments, we were comfortable and soon had eight and ten people, and everyone was plowed with beer, liquor, and food as required.

Our subject, often lost in the joy of our first meeting in person for the Theology Pub since the pandemic, was Halloween and whether it was OK for Christians to celebrate the spooky trick-or-treating. Michael (not me, but the young guy with the beard) was concerned that we were outside the lines of good things, but most of us enjoyed the practice and thought it a great time to let children have some control that required them to get outside and do something. We all shared our positive memories but did include some mischief that Dondrea suggested would now get people arrested. There is a liberal pushback, which Dondrea surprised us with, that there is a question of equity and peer pressure with Halloween getting it shut down in some schools and areas. We learned that some families cannot afford to participate, and others should be able to decline without impacting their children, and this may be a reason to dispense with trick-or-treating. Ted and Aggy joined us, but I had not seen them since before the pandemic.

We enjoyed the discussion about Halloween, which seems to be a question about what is good and evil, which colors your direction toward trick-or-treating. If you see the world as full of darkness, Halloween’s connection to horror is disturbing and should be avoided. Most of us enjoyed it when we were young and think it would be a good experience for kids. Michael was still unsure about Halloween but, at least, agreed that dressing up, candy, cider, and donuts are fun.

With the bill paid, we thanked Becka and will meet again next month. Becka took a photo of the group. I took Air Volvo home and tried to get focused again. Nope.

Home and resting, I read a stamp auction catalog and contemplated some of their literature collection up for bids. I collect forgeries and, occasionally, with luck, the original forged stamp. The Internet has limited information; the only sources are physical copies of twenty-plus-year out-of-print books with pictures and engravings of the differences. These are not usually available on Amazon or Abebooks.com, but the auction does not mention the titles, and I suspect these are lesser books.

Aside: Stamp collecting was a hobby of previous centuries and was troubled by unscrupulous dealers in the early 1900s. The dealers could not provide the early USA stamps in qualities that matched the demand, for example. Thus, the dealers created or hired out the printing of their own versions to help their customers easily and cheaply finish their collections. These reprinted versions (using the more polite word in stamp collecting) became confused with the original. They often appeared in images on the early stamp albums in the USA and UK. My collection overlaps this period, and I have to deal with this. Most collectors do not overlap this. I have a large-ish collection of forgeries as you get them as you pursue particular stamps. I often see the forgeries for auctions; some are even identified as forgeries, with some reaching ridiculous prices.

Example: The Pony Express was a real private mail carrier, and they used stamps for the short-lived express service. I collect them when available (and not overpriced), but I must carefully check the photos against my books. I have three volumes of non-US postal service stamps listing the known outright forgeries and reprints (over 100 years old now). I have a few real ones, and I watch for them. 

(this is a real one worth today over $100 and thousands if still on a cover)

I showered and dressed in my pajamas and soon fell asleep. I woke at 2 and 3 and fell back to sleep. I was wide awake for a while and worried it would be another sleepless night.

Thanks for reading.

The day ended with me still coding when the clock crossed midnight. The pleasure of creating a working program is intense and private–you made this. In the late afternoon on Wednesday, I completed my Kaggle first-attempt program in a Jupyter Book (I checked the spelling). I am always surprised when something is done, as I never expected it. This happens to me with code, model building, figure painting, and writing–suddenly, I am done. I was excited, and my hand had a slight tremor as I submitted the book to be processed and scored by the contest. I was under no illusions about my chances of success or even placing in the competition.

The first run failed, which surprised me as this contest result is a simple CSV file prediction. This is a major letdown, and the Kaggle website even suggests that the coder take a walk and calm down. While not quite to tears, I was ready to return to model building and other physical things for a moment. I was sure I missed something simple.

A review of my submission showed that 1) my program had replaced the case identifiers with standardized values and 2) I was sending real numbers and not integers for what an integer value is. Both are well, oops. I found that I was using the label rewriting on the key for the data. It was stupid but effective at hiding the data’s primary key, making my results nonsense (though this method can create a cross-reference for personal data obfuscation). A look at my other models later and a search on the Internet found code to force a column to an integer format. I resubmitted my model, and it failed. Another lesson: I saved my Jupyter book and ran it. It is hard to describe the elation when the work of days or weeks actually works.

While terrible (I have made no real effort to tune the input to the AI model), my score was surprisingly not at the bottom. I scored about 1/2 way, meaning my basic example is better than 1/2 of all the submitted successful work of other teams in the coding contest. I changed some parameters in how the AI works, with the positive results of increasing my score in the contest a few places higher. Later, around 10:30, I revised the code more and produced poor results by trying simpler AI models and a boosting model. I have tried these before in other code, and they easily fit into existing code. Most models use the same input structures, and I have seen code and written some that tour all the models and retain the best by evaluating each AI model and returning the best results. I fell back to my old reliable and easy-to-understand Random Forest of Trees AI model that simulates two thousand randomly created decision trees from the 58 features I supplied (and aligned), ranks them, and they vote on a solution.

One of the changes was that I forced some null data to zero after reading an article that suggested this would be good. The AI model reported a better model, but when I submitted it to the contest, I was not surprised to see the model sink by 50% when scored. That should not have worked in my mind, and it did not. It was one line of code in my data alignment code and was easy to back out.

I went to bed with options for improved code dancing in my brain. I slept well, likely walking through the code and data in my dreams. I don’t remember my dreams, but I was ready to code this morning!

Dear reader, I hope you have nodded off in my excited AI model descriptions; creating and mental gymnastics are my sports.

I showered, changed into my pajamas, and then returned to coding. Before this, I was at First United Methodist Church playing an intense board game, Concordia, a favorite of mine. Z and Andrew were my opponents in this resource management and deck-building game. Concordia is set in Roman times, with each player representing a family building a trading network in the first few centuries of the common era. The cards represent folks working for the family (or family members) who provide an action or two. Your turn is simply to play a card and do the action. But, the strategy and sequence of actions to be efficient are complex, and the options are manifold. Often, you find that you are one coin, step, or resource away from a brilliant play.

We played the basic map and included the Forum (this supplies some superpowers for the players and adds more zest to the game). Three players have plenty of room to run away to a corner with the basic map. Other maps constrain to support a lower player count, which means you are completing for cities, but we picked the initial map for our first play in some time. Let’s go easy.

In the play, Z went for cards and then found Z’s predilection to gather resources and organize them (Z is always the banker for us in the game, and all the coins are carefully stacked in piles), a distraction, which meant Z did not focus on building trade. Z soon found Andrew, and I blocked Z from the easy builds for trade outposts (represented by wooden-colored houses in the game). Andrew initially had trouble remembering how to play, got help from Z and me, understood again, and soon chased me across the board. Z finally remembered the solution to her issues, got all her colonists out, and ran to the board’s edges. Like in the days of the old, trade was most profitable on the outer edges of the empire.

As choir practice started, Andrew had to leave the game before we were done. Z was thrilled to take over Andrew’s position and keep her own. I was now playing a super-Z with two families. Here, fourteen-year-old energy was full-on as she jumped from each chair and played each position. I had misplayed and let Andrew (before Z took over) have a cloth city I could have built. Z-Andrew was spreading out fast but was building a whole providence, creating a powerhouse of resources, but not an end-of-game point-building count of difference providences. I ended the game, gaining 7 points, and won by about twenty points with a score of 120ish, a good showing.

Dondrea had a meeting after choir, and Z and I played Skull, which is so simple that Z had some trouble learning it. Z kept trying to add more to the game. It is a straightforward bluffing game, comes in a small box, and was invented at bars (it was initially made from a stack of coasters, and you can make it with stacks of four matching coasters). Soon, Z got it, and I started to win every game. Z is honest, but a sixty-year-old former IT corporate warrior has years of bluffing and detecting bluffing. Towards the end, Z started spotting my tells and winning more. More to come!

Skipping an uneventful afternoon, I had lunch with Steve and AJ before this. They were in the area for a meeting (they reside on the Oregon Coast), and we met for tacos in Hillsboro Old Town. We also had the smaller margaritas with excellent food at Amelia’s Rustic Mexican Restaurant. We talked about travel and other topics. We mostly enjoyed each other’s company, and Steve commented on my traveling alone. Years of corporate travel have made me very comfortable traveling alone. A skill I did not recognize until now. We will meet up again after my trip to New Orleans (with the hope that no new hurricane interrupts or adds spice to my trip). While a corporate warrior traveler, I experienced two hurricanes.

The morning was my usual routine of rising after 8 and writing the morning way. I had to rush, as I was meeting Steve and AJ at 11:30 and was only a few minutes late. This is unusual for me, but I find time less constraining now than before when five minutes meant a glare from a manager, project leader, or director. I was quickly forgiven, as they are pastors.

The coffee was glorious and liberal, and I added extra water to the French press as it disappeared too fast. Soon, I was typing fast and furious, caffeinated to the max. Breakfast was the easiest: just oatmeal, pumpkin spice flavor with pecans, and 1/2 a can of peaches with little sauce (the sugar sauce is unwelcome to my diabetes intake). While I would like to tell you that the liberal coffee had me dreaming of a world where petroleum-based engines join the coal steam engines in the museums next to the incandescent light bulbs, I focused on writing and getting to lunch with friends instead. Not every day can I appreciate fair trade products and think of the good one cup of excellent coffee that is properly paid for and does good for this world. Some days, one has to push through to connect with friends, which is good, too.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

Tuesday started with me rising after 8 and feeling more rested. After putting on my slippers, I could easily reach the kitchen; it had not moved. I have a new rule that I must wear shoes or slippers. My toes are numb to various degrees (chemo, diabetes, hammer toe, and flat feet all contribute), and I can easily injure my toes and not know how bad. I have found I slam them into things harder with the reduced feeling. Shoes and slippers are required now.

I made liberal coffee from Equal Exchange’s French Roast grounds. Tuesday promised a sunny fall day in Oregon, but that will soon be a rare event as the rain will be all day, and sunshine will only be in my cup in the mornings. I take a deep drink of the dark, liberal caffeinated beverage, tasting the sunshine of helping people and creating a fair tax system in the USA. Dear readers, have some liberal coffee; it will help!

I had oatmeal with my coffee for breakfast.

On Tuesday morning, I wrote slowly and carefully. Still, when I published the blog, I reread it and corrected five make-me-wince errors. I was distracted by texting, news stories, and a few calls. This was not bad; I have no plans and am retired.

I made a late lunch. I boiled some yellow potatoes that were mashed with butter once soft. I took frozen Brussels sprouts and microwaved them (flipping them to the correct “This Side Up” side, oops). These were mushy and green. Not great. I put butter with a dash of salt (I use unsalted butter) in the non-stick fry pan (thanks, Steve). I fried them until brown and then black on the sides, stirring often to change sides. Sprouts are good, slightly burned. I microwaved a frozen piece of eggplant parmesan I made a few weeks ago. I did not get it hot enough, but it was at least warm, and I ate it. It was excellent.

I finally did the dishes and put away the laundry. The orchids get misted all day. I watched Kaos on Netflix for two more episodes. While the show is clever, it is hard to find any sympathy for the characters. The sense that no character is really controlling their fate, a very Greek myth theme, makes the show seem a bit artificial. It is well done and set in modern times but revised to be a Greek god-run society.

I read but rose and then returned to Python coding for the Kaggle coding contest. I have poor results using a random forest of trees AI classifier, 60%, but I am not surprised as I am using only some of the data supplied. I also made no effort to reduce the features; there are less than sixty, and some likely overlap and bring little value, but with these few, the results are likely good for the limited data.

I changed some of the parameters of the AI classifier and did not get better results (again, suggesting I have good-as-it-gets results). The primary data is insufficient to produce the required results—no surprise. The time series data must be consumed and provide more information to create a better outcome. No matter. I decided to submit the notebook to get credit for trying on the contest, but all the coding is done in a Jupiter Notebook in Python, and I cannot figure out what I need to do. I am missing a step or an approval. I decided to work that out on Wednesday (I forgot to write the submission file, which is rather basic).

More information on AI stuff: I have a confusion matrix that shows how my solution fits, and I see two areas where I am missing. I am interested in looking through the time series data and seeing if there are ample data sets to match incorrect results. In my twisted thinking, I might just count and update my features with a simple count value.

The Hillsboro Machine Learning Python Meetup meets at 6 on the first Tuesday of each month (today) for a Zoom call. Today, Ernest, the group leader, presents on neural networks and large feature number solutions with text processing. Again, the small amount of code required to produce a working result is surprising. Ernest reminds me that our last meeting discussed time series processing (quite tricky) and some options. I should look back at the notes and video. It was an excellent and better-attended meeting.

After the meeting, I coded for a while, then read and made a late dinner while watching Kaos. I opened a can of baked beans. I have a case of the smaller cans; they were cheap on Amazon. I heated the beans on the stove and enjoyed them while relaxing. Yes, there is no meat on Tuesday, just veggies (but with butter and maybe a tiny bit of bacon that comes in the beans); thus, there is no vegan credit for me.

I read more Slow Horses, and the book matches the show in terms of words and story. I’m unsure if I need to read this, as I have seen it, and it is a near match to the show. I will try to finish the first book.

I shower, put on my PJs, and sleep early. I wake at 2, not 3, for proof of hydration. I wake at 4, not 5, and roll over and manage to sleep.

Thanks for reading.

 

I rose late on Monday and slept until 8, with only a few waking, looking at the clock, and falling back asleep. All day, I dragged and went slow. I started nothing except the daily blog, even reheating leftovers for lunch. Monday had no plans, and I treated it as a free day for PJs until after 1, when I tried to enjoy going slow. The AI monthly meeting has moved to Tuesday, so nothing is on Monday.

This morning, coffee was a need, not just a beverage. I also had a terrible lack of focus; my mind was a moth circling flames of things I should do, but I did not want to be burned and actually do the thing. I did little on Monday; no guilt. While not a gateway drug, coffee was my gateway to getting anything done. I woke up enough to finish the blog (spending plenty of time on texts and calls), do one load of laundry, not put it away, and ignore the growing pile of dishes. I also enjoyed the political news (the polls are now taking a liberal swing) and counting down for the election; news from NC was mixed–family is safe and in camping mode, but the western NC water system is gone.

I drink deep liberal coffee from my French Press, dreaming of a better world in every cup. I don’t dream of a Lovecraftian world of strangeness and stories or sword-wielding and spell casting (but that would be cool), but a new world, much like the current one, with justice, compassion, and kind communities being the focus. I am not looking for a Hollywood Revelations-style destruction of sinners and for the old earth to pass away, but for the world’s awakening (i.e., woke) to the possibilities (from Douglas Adams) of being nice to each other.

I have oatmeal again to go with the coffee. But I am a moth bouncing here and there all day, even with the caffeine (I just bounce faster). I rewatched the “Lord of the Rings: Rings of Power” season conclusion, and now that I know what to expect, I really enjoyed the sword fights and the resolution of some of the stories. They continued with some of the less exciting stories for the next season. I still like it.

I read and am tired still. I am surprised by how close the book and the TV show match for Slow Horses, and I nod off and sleep for thirty minutes. That with all the coffee. Yes, I did overdo it last week. The early mornings, the short sleep, and the social butterfly-ing all had a cost.

Tired of this, I head to Hillsboro, tour the Old Town, and get more steps in, 4,700+ for the day. I searched the antique stores (Deborah asked me about them, and I would think they are more like thrift stores but with older stuff) for things I needed but did not know I needed. A dangerous thing to do, but f**k, I am tired of being tired (re-tired?). The better store, Le Stuff, had things that got my attention but had little use, and I avoid furniture purchases, as I have enough (even when it is cheap and well made–resist!). I also resist all clocks. I learned that the metal, mostly brass, wears, and complex repairs are often required. I am not starting a new hobby/business: fixing mechanical clocks.

The rundown and slightly smelly Sniders Hill Theater Antique Mall (with uneven floors and difficult stairs to balconies now stuffed with old stuff) often provides me with desirable items. I found a cigar box with a locking lid made of wood for five bucks. All my leftover and replaced gaming pieces now reside in the box instead of bags stuffed here and there. Excellent. A $12 bottle of “Dr. White’s Dandelion Alternative” reproduction joins my Call of Cthulhu props. Lastly, a slightly worn copy of Julis Child’s cookbook for $25 (no shipping or sales tax in Oregon) is added to my collection of cookbooks. I always wanted to read her comments in the anniversary edition. Excellent.

Aside: Corwin always laughs when he recalls me saying, “How many feet of cookbooks do you think we need.”

I also found a collection of plastic horse models that my sister once collected. Being the loving brother I am, I sent her a picture of her toys, now considered antiques, and got an appropriate response. It was rather profane.

One of the questions I wonder about is how often the stuff changes in these stores. I looked at how my memory compared with the current contents and concluded that less than half the stuff was replaced, but much had changed. I hope that is sales and not replacements; however, I fear for our society if we consume half the antiques in three months. Our homes will be exploding with stuff.

I called Corwin, and he agreed to meet me in Hillsboro for an early dinner (the town all but rolls up the sidewalks when the sun goes down). I continued to wander. I saw a police officer from the Washinton County Sheriff’s patrol head to a person. They were passed out in a wheelchair in the park around the courthouse and looked in distress. The officer woke them up, stayed with them, and waited for help.

I sit on a bench, admire the redwoods, and try to remember my first aid. I am no longer certified and should take a refresher class once I am a year out from my brain surgery. Now, it is best I just stay out of the way. The event seems to be resolved. I see Corwin in his truck, and we will meet soon.

I suggest The High Ground, a funny name for a roof bar that overlooks the Washington County Courthouse. So yes, we take The High Ground and have locally made beer. We share an insane appetizer of Buffalo tater tots with blue cheese and Buffalo sauce. The view was excellent, and we enjoyed dinner: me, a salad, and Corwin with a burger and extra paddy. Corwin still is disappointed that his recent bout of COVID-19 has cost him weight. He is a weight lifter and wants the weight. We dream that someday we will cross numbers with me below Corwin’s.

Corwin is now mixing and sampling sound into what I would call Electronica music. I gave Corwin a spare pair of high-quality noise-reducing headphones. With the headphones providing a new level of fidelity, Corwin is enjoying a more complex mix.

We walk back to Air Volvo, board, and Air Volvo drops Corwin at his truck. I return to The Volvo Cave, a short trip from Hillsboro, and relax. I do not do the dishes or put away the dishes and load the dirty ones. I read, rest, and recharge (Maybe the three new Rs).

I shower and get in my PJs as the house turns to pro-Orchid night temperatures. I am sensitive to cold now (chemo), and my feet feel cold (but are not—part of the chemo stuff), but I finally sleep. I dream, all forgotten now, and wake a few times stupidly early and stumble my way to prove hydration. I never sleep for more than a few hours but still rise on Tuesday refreshed.

Thanks for reading.