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I was late rising again and did not write the blog until 9ish. It was another atypical, overcast, and rainy day, which we usually see in mid-September. This will contrast with the 100F (38C) temperatures later this week, which are also not seen in September. Ugh! I tried to find focus but spent the morning writing with little focus. I kept starting and stopping.

Breakfast was a not-ripe banana from Safeway with liberal Equal Exchange coffee made in my French press. I also downloaded my transactions for Quicken and corrected the categories assigned to the expenses and income. Quicken tries to learn and automatically assigns them; it gets about half right. Most of my costs flow through the miles-earning Alaska Airlines Visa instead of my ATM card Visa for US Banks. This hardens my checking account from hackers and thieves. All of my monthly expenses now use direct payments through US Bank.

I finally finished the blog and soon cleaned up and dressed. My hair is becoming unruly. The shaving of the left side of my head for the brain surgery made my previous haircut uneven. I had to wait for some new growth.

I decided to make dinner for lunch. This is a new habit, and I will stick mainly to what I know works today. I am also excited that the Paul Newman pasta sauces are back in Safeway, and I got an old favorite, Sockittome. Rigatoni is a favorite pasta form and the cheap box works. I find that for other forms of pasta, I need more expensive versions to avoid over-undercooking them–I can’t time them, and the recommended times are wrong. I included a small selection of mushrooms for pasta on yesterday’s trip to Safeway. These are chopped and fried in butter (no salt butter) until just starting to brown. I put them on a plate so as not to overcook. I also get Johnsonville’s sweat Italian-style sausage out of the freezer and defrost it in the microwave. This is loose, and I break it up and fry it in my non-stick pan (thanks, Steve). I use too much water for the pasta and do the usual boiling until it is just cooked. I remember to reserve one cup of the salted and now starchy water. I add the mushroom to the now browning sausage on low heat. I carefully pour out the pasta into a strainer and then recombine everything. The Paul Newman was heating on the stove on low, bubbling softly, and I added the reserved water to it. I pour the sauce over the pasta. I add the meat and mushrooms and mix it all together.

Paul never fails me. It is great. The reserve water helps the sauce flow, adds salt I don’t use in most of my cooking, and the starch thickens the sauce. I saw this new trick in one of the NY Times recipes, and now I use it when I remember to reserve the water.

I get the mail, primarily catalogs with Susie’s name and some mail for Corwin. I send him a text to consider some of my dinner-lunch cooking and get his mail. Corwin appears after I have completed three bowls. The sink, empty when I started, is now overflowing with pans and dishes–I am proud of that. Corwin says it is excellent; I still have some remaining taste issues from the nerve issues from the brain surgery or leftover from a Thrush infection (again, from the surgery), meaning I always have doubts.

Corwin and I talked about the new version of Dungeons and Dragons, the 50th Anniversary version, or what it may be called 5.50E (I play 5E and was calling the latest version 5.1E, but now it is 5.50, I think). Corwin heard that the changes were more invasive than I had heard. I try to look up some content, but it is still unavailable online. I have pre-purchased my copy and an electronic version, too, but they have not yet been delivered. Frustratingly, you can pay for an earlier release, but I have resisted that so far.

Corwin heads out to make money delivering food, his new second job. His truck is running better and getting better mileage. He used some fuel additives recommended on the Internet, and then his mileage improved. He believes he needs a new starter and fuel filter, but at the moment, it starts and runs.

I take Air Volvo across Aloha, Oregon, to Great Clips and wait about thirty minutes for a haircut. The gal manages to get my hair off my ears and straighten the imbalance. I go from unruly to boring but nice-looking businessman cut. The cuts are cheap, and I give an excellent tip.

I returned to SMS Derfflinger 1916, added the anchor chain, and tried to update the capstan with a brass etched bit. Despite the jewelry cement, one falls off, and I cannot find it. I am very frustrated, and I am not sure anymore that 1/700 tiny f**king parts are fun. I would instead paint figures or build something with wood. I am considering putting this back in its box and painting figures. I have American Civil War armies to paint that seem more fun than endless tiny bits. It may be an emotional reaction, and I will wait a few days to see how I feel (I have a spare set of brass bits that I use to replace the lost part). I have four more 1/700 to follow this one!

Dinner is leftover ribs and fresh corn on the cob. Bob emailed me an update for my church meeting on Thursday, and I thought about it all day. I may not share any details here, but I am focusing on my reasons for thoughts about this meeting’s content.

I take a walk as the sun starts to set. I return to the house to get my phone before leaving my street. My back is not a problem during the whole walk, with just a few aches near the end. I do the long walk of over 4,000 steps and rack in over 5,000 for the week. My app lost all its information for Tuesday! Since I pay for it, it is annoying. I got a strange request to log back in and suspected something went wrong. I checked the count when I got home to ensure I knew it; my usual paranoia with computers paid off.

I am not ready to do anything and put on an episode of Space 1999. While not that good, this show was an attempt to recapture some of the magic of Star Trek ten years later. Still, it cannot resist some of the pessimism of the 1970s about the future of a world facing nuclear war, pollution, race issues, and the perceived decline of the USA after the loss of the Vietnam War. It is dark. It also uses the top-down WW2 single-white-guy who makes the decisions hierarchy, disturbing to a viewer in 2024. The show made one season. I still like it, but there is one nightmare-causing horror episode I will skip.

I have some potato chips, and then I remember I have a veggie tray and skip to better-for-me food. At 9, instead of returning to the model, I return to my Dungeons and Dragons writing. I enjoyed that, and I managed to improve the adventure’s start and find where I stopped. I re-read the stuff I have already edited, and return to it and improve it; it is not ready. The start of the adventure is now working for me.

Feeling better after editing, I head to a shower and bed. I try to sleep after reading more of the Player’s Handbook for the 5.50E and notice the game changes are not impactful, and the flow of play is unchanged. The book does not cover the details of the game anymore (like the previous version), and I find myself in the new “glossary of terms” to discover that many of the terms, now defined, have the same meanings. There is a strange revision that has weapon definitions now determine what extra effect an attack can cause. Halberds are now an important weapon. Totally strange, as before, the weapon selection was more of a role-playing decision and not a min-max alignment.

My head swimming with D&D, I try to sleep and cannot rest until after 1. I get up and have some pumpkin spice bread and that seems to help me find sleep.

Thanks for reading.

I rose late on Labor Day and did not start writing until after 9. I had not been to the grocer or fruit stand in at least a week, and the choices for breakfast were limited. I selected to make steel-cut oats for breakfast and promptly burned them and blackened my expensive and high-quality saucepan! I stopped writing, cooled the burning hot pan under running water, and cleaned the mess. I had to get some steel wool. I keep a bag of various roughness for woodworking. One example is when I spray paint wood, age, and distress it with steel wool. I keep it in a drawer in the tool chest as steel wool is highly flammable. I took the fine wool, scrubbed the pan with it, removed the harsh burn, and returned it to usable. Be warned, the wool cleans by scratching and will fog glass, leaving scratches on glass, and mar fine paint and finishes. Use it only for work not seen or to get to base wood or metal when planning to remake the finish. I carefully made steel-cut oats for breakfast.

I spent the morning writing the blog. I was not able to find my focus. I was tired and even sleepy. I added more water to the French press to make more liberal coffee from Equal Exchange; coffee was necessary today. I reviewed my transactions in Quicken. My balance for my Alaska Visa was high again, which represented my choice to use it for most daily expenses and my trip to Chicago. I purchased the hotel from Expedia, so the main costs (air and hotel) are already in my balance.

I shave, dress, and so on, and I am dressed before (very late for me), but I am nearly staggering. I rest and read and nod off. I bake a Trader Joe’s Steak Pie. I step outside to wake up, and my neighbors are out, and I chat with them. I then help my next-door neighbor, Lauren, remove some weeds. They don’t have grass but wood chips, but this means laying a weed matt under the wood chips, how I did it for the garden years ago (the matt is still there in places), or facing endless battles of weeds and grass. The weeds are enormous and deep-rooted in the cement-like earth we have here in the former farmer fields (it is like pudding in the rains). We pull them as best as we can. I bring over my lawn waste container, and we fill it. I have to check on my lunch and wish Lauren the best.

Lunch is good, and I watch ShipHappens and nod off at my Apple. On the cool, overcast day, I considered focusing on my model, but I was just unable to focus and was tired. This is not the time to sleep. I board Air Volvo. The coffee place supplies a super wake-up of a European Moca, and I see that Safeway has grilled ribs for sale. Why not?

Before Safeway, I took my size 42 pants and shorts to the clothing donation bin. It is time to believe I will not head back to size 42. Excellent.

Fortified with my moca, I head into Safeway with a small cart. I find the rack of $9 ribs, cole slaw, and corn on the cob and tour Safeway to collect the items I need for a few more meals. I try to be good, but the potato chips are irresistible. I also get a Pumpkin Spice quick bread mix (I usually resist pumpkin everything). Aws, an Iraqi immigrant, is checking, and we are happy to see each other. We shake hands, and he is glad to see me relaxed, smiling, and looking well.

I brought the bags of groceries to the house in an Air Volvo and soon put everything away. I finish ShipHappens. Dinner is microwaved corn (in husk, run for three minutes, and everything just comes off), slightly rewarmed Safeway ribs, and cole slaw. I continue watching the last Matrix movie, The Matrix Resurrections, on my Apple.

During the day, I do the dishes, do three loads of laundry, make the bed, and order my next COVID-19 vaccination (plus flu and RSV–my seventh COVID-19 shot) next week (using Walgreens’s website). I lost my passport holder, yellow vaccination records, and my COVID-19 card in Morroco. I have printed out my Covid-19 with a QR code in case we return to lockdown again. My passport, while not lost, is somewhere in my office. My Oregon driver’s license is a federally approved one, and I have my passport card in my wallet. I can travel within the USA and Mexico with those.

I will remind folks that vaccines are far cheaper and safer than actually getting the crap. Viruses are rising that could lock us down again. I hope to write blogs for many more years, and this is one of the best and cheapest ways to ensure I can keep going. Recommended.

I decided I needed some sweat and baked. I made pumpkin spice bread from the box mix, adding dried fruit from a bag of King Arthur Flower for fruit cakes. It took an hour and was wonderful. I have a slice to help with my evening pills and later when I can’t sleep.

I am trying to read Conan Doyle’s The White Company novel (about monks so far) to help me better write like him. I also have his biography–I have yet to start–created by editing his letters. So far, this book is OK and reminds me of Tolkien’s and C.S. Forester’s writing style. There is also the careful description of people often commenting on the shape of faces and hand movements I see in Holmes’s stories. I will see if I can keep going; I am on page 20.

One of the few luxuries you can enjoy for free at home is freshly laundered towels, sheets, and PJs. I luxuriated in them Monday evening after doing laundry all day. I read and tried to sleep.

With the shopping, I managed 1,600+ steps while so tired. I am still at 235 pounds, and I could not sleep!

I finally sleep before 1AM. I rise twice for proof of hydration.

I should mention it rained the night before, and the day did not climb over the mid-70s (23C) and was overcast grey, thus previewing the next seven months.

Here is David Austin’s Wedgwood climbing rose. It nearly drowned last winter, but it has finally fully recovered, and the flowers are four inches across!

Souvenir du Président Lincoln is still flowering, but these are smaller, heat-reduced blooms. I am still happy to get a late flower from the rose. The Bourbon rose shows no black spot issues. It is a surprisingly good choice for the Greater Portland Area.

Thanks for reading.

Sundays are early rising days. I found the kitchen (it has not moved), turned on the light for the orchids who reveled in the freezing 64F (18C) house and misted them. And then returned to writing the long Saturday blog. I was back at my Apple by 7ish and had found some remaining locally ground and roasted coffee. While not liberal coffee, one should buy locally (thus, being liberal) from a friendly family that runs a store in Hillsboro. The coffee tasted good, and my breakfast experience was enhanced by a croissant from Paris Baguette (a chain in NYC that has come to Beaverton). I found the last yogurt in the frig.

Grammarly seemed especially interested in simplifying not just my sentences but also removing their content and meaning. It is like the Mad Hatter has been added to the program. “If you remove all the meaning from your blog, you can have an un-blog; hundreds, nay thousands, of words that perfectly say nothing of import,” I can hear the Mad Hatter explaining and clarifying that Grammarly “is an excellent un-AI.”

After rewriting some paragraphs three times, I finished a story in the time-boxed window with the last bits rushed, but it was about board games that I have described before. I clean up and dress in a button-down color greyish dress shirt, pride tie, and a blue sweater vest. I put on dark socks and black Cole Hann shoes. It was another warm, clear day, and I grabbed my summer hat and boarded Air Volvo.

I was soon in the Beaverton First United Methodist Church, using the side entrance and by the Pride Progress flag. It was my impression that nobody wanted to sit down and do the service. Everyone was enjoying just chatting and having coffee, but Shawn announced the countdown for the Internet, which meant the service was live now on YouTube. I called out, “Break a leg,” to Dondrea and found a seat with my coffee.

“Morning has Broken,” “Here I Am,” and other easy and popular songs kept the positive energy flowing. The scripture is from the Old Testament and is the first words, “In the Beginning…”. Dan read this section skillfully and tells us, with a slight smile, that he has often tried to read the Bible cover to cover and has read this part the most. Pastor Ken’s sermon focused on the last day of creation, resting, and the sabbath. He pointed out that we, in our modern thinking, see this as an optional choice. Still, God and the writer (or writers, depending on your alignment to theories of Biblical sources) also include honoring the sabbath in the commandments; it was not meant to be optional. The pastor announces that the upcoming sermons will focus on rest and how to find it in the upcoming sermons. His message today was that rest and sabbath are from God, and we need to remember that and rest. He is not very good at it but is working on it.

More coffee after the service, and I head out while folks continue to chat. I landed at Red Robin in Air Volvo and sat at the bar. The bartender, looking like a hobbit and too young to be serving, gets me an iced tea and a basket of fries (I love their fries). I ordered the low-calorie chicken platter with a salad (which, without the fries, is a good choice). I should have ordered the 1/2, but it was not too much. I thought the chicken should have been on a grill instead of the usual industrial split chicken served at restaurants. But it’s still good.

The bartender asks me to give them a good review, which I do as I pay. I identified myself to the corporate machine that is Red Robin, made my plea that the service was good and should be rewarded, and even identified the excellent service from my diminutive bartender, who I learned is called Codo. With my payment and review accepted, I boarded Air Volvo and soon reached the Volvo Cave without incident.

I read and nodded off, resisted the pull of Morpheius, and rose only an hour or so later. I then texted, ordered tickets for Dracula for DMZ (Dondrea, Michael, and Z), and suggested we share the 20 September show and date with others to see how many folks we can join (there are plenty of seats; find it here). Next, I headed to Big River Coffee, but I had some calls, and they were closing before I got there (they close early on Sunday at 4).

One of the calls was with Linda, my sister. She was in the Ovid area and decided to check on the family plot at the Maple Grove Cemetery in Ovid, Michigan. Grand Wilds and a Bell are there, and Linda was worried the recent terrible storms might have caused some damage. Linda called me, and I helped direct her on the phone. I took photos from the roadway when I was there to locate the ground-level markers next time. Linda saw the Warren and Kennedy standing markers when driving on the cemetery road, and when they aligned, the Wilds and Bells were nearby. Linda found Leah Bell first and then the rest. Linda cleaned up the markers and was happy they were not damaged by falling trees (there were a few down in the cemetery) and left just before sunset. I would not hang out there after dark–too many movies start that way.

I returned to the house and managed not to do any writing. I made dinner from leftovers. I sliced up a grilled and marinated chicken breast (better than what I got earlier) and added that to vegan lentil soup from a can. I put this over the leftover mashed potatoes like it was gravy. It was excellent.

Still, at loose ends, I see a showing of Inside Out 2 at Movies on TV a few miles away, and I head there. I spotted the theater manager, Erica, who was happy to see me. We chat for a moment. She is now a caregiver for her mother, who is in failing health. Erica was thinking of me, she said, as she faced many of my challenges. From a distance, Erica saw Susie’s decline and now faces the same life she saw me live. In previous visits, we talked, and my only advice was to learn to forgive yourself for mistakes and anger. Tonight, I can see chatting help; we talk about movies and nothing about healthcare or the endless caregiving tasks. I can see Erica is feeling better to see someone who understands. I headed to my show, and she wished me a good showing.

Inside Out 2 is an excellent movie, and I often laugh at it. It also has many cringe-worthy moments and teen moments. As a former teenager who has mostly forgotten the day-to-day stress of those days, I react to a few. I thought the film dragged a few times and was shallower than the first, but it was still a good flick.

I return in Air Volvo, enjoying a small bag of overpriced popcorn and a kid’s paper cup of water—my limit of drinks to make it through a movie without discomfort. I shower and soon sleep. I rise three times to prove hydration, which is particularly annoying as I only had a cup of water at the movie!

Thanks for reading.

Before it was too hot, I rose early to see the Art in the Pearl; Portland and the Greater Area would be in the high 90s (31C). My alarm went off at 6:30, but I, at first, did not know what the noise was; I hear on the other side (I am deaf on the left side), and I ignored it for a while. I turned it off and rolled over but rose 45 minutes later, thinking I did not need to be that early.

I found my slippers and robe. The AC drives the house to 64F (18C) to make the orchids happy. I found the electric kettle, filled it, let it boil, and poured hot water over the coffee grounds I put in my French Press. These grounds, I thought, were the last of the locally ground and roasted coffee from Hillsboro; there was enough left for Sunday. I had pastries from French Baguette in Beaverton with apple sauce and yogurt.

I started to write and would write for about two hours to complete the recounting of Friday. I had some problems remembering the details, but slowly, my memory unwound and reassembled. The process is about taking flashes of memory and trying to find other mind pictures and connect them in order. For some blogs, I have to add in parts when I am near the end, as memories surface that I had missed entirely as I read the recap from top to bottom.

Yesterday, I could not recall lunch until I went through the trash and found the remains of lunch, and then the memories suddenly poured in. When blocked, I will look in the kitchen, bedroom, and at the photos on the iPhone and suddenly find a whole part of my day missing. This has always been true for me; I do not have photographic memories. I am especially bad at passwords, number sequences, and combinations. Nonetheless, I try to recall each day before it fades into the sixty previous years!

By mid-morning, I had the blog published, cleaned up, and dressed. I boarded Air Volvo and took it to Portland with only the usual traffic and witnessed no extra legal driving. I planned to spend the whole day in Portland to celebrate the Labor Day Weekend, finishing with a board game at Richard’s house at 6. I arrived in the Pearl District and parked in the not-cheap underground garage as it would not leave the vehicle on the streets in the scorching sun. Also, street parking is often limited to a few hours.

I found some confused tourists trying to use the garage and explained the less-than-intuitive process and location, including that they want P1 and that the lobby is 1. The parking is under the “Finance Building,” and they turned around and saw the unexpected facade of the building. “Remember this,” I recommended. I headed down the hill towards the river while the tourists followed unreliable maps on their phones (the location signal is often a block off) and would soon be sporting the pink Voodoo Donuts Box.

The Art in the Pearl is in the South Park area and only incorporated two blocks this year; I remember it was larger the last time I attended, encompassing the whole park. The artworks were excellent this year and expensive, with hand-blown tumblers priced at $75 each. There were a few buyers here and there, often prints. Anything that I thought spoke to me was over a grand. There were some tables to make art, but I skipped those.

I looked at the few food options, and instead, I headed toward Voodoo Donuts, tourists, and the Saturday Market. The crowd and the vendors were slightly reduced by Art in the Pearl, but only slightly. I am starting to look for Christmas items, but I found nothing this time. The prices here, while not cheap, were not in the thousands. I found chai hot at a Tibetian food place I have been going to for years at the Saturday Market, sadly but maybe intelligently, no longer offering yak butter tea, and found a wall to sit on. My back was yelling at me. I was at 3500 steps in, where the problem had started the day before. The market is busy now, and there is no place to sit. I head out, trying to ignore the pain.

I did part of the river walk and found the USS Oregon Memorial, where the battleship’s mast and anchor chain still reside. USS Oregon, like the USS Texas, to their respective states. The people of Oregon decided to donate the USS Oregon to the war effort for WW2, and all that remains is a few parts of it now. I took a few pictures; the grey bits are now decorated with local colors.

I walk back a few blocks and even resort to my phone as I am off by a block. I located Kells, our local Irish-style chain, on the 2nd, and they have plenty of chairs and good beer. I get both, plus corned beef and veggies. I have just a taste of the mashed potatoes, which were not good for me (and I had too much yesterday). Being Portland and the world we live in, the menu has lovely Irish items like shepherd’s pie and lamb stew, Irish nachos (potato slices instead of chips), and various mango drink specials. I ignore these invaders and revel in the Irish.

The back pain is gone, Irish treatments work, and I head out again. I walk by Voodoo Donuts, and there is a long line. I remember Ground Kontrol and heading back to the Pearl District by a less efficient route to find this arcade. There, I buy a card and play many pinball machines, including my favorite, Addams Family (a later version). Instead of coins or tokens, you wave your card now to play. My favorites are not expensive, and the old Asteroids game is cheap, but my score was embarrassing. The machines take 1/2 of my card before I notice, and time has barely passed. I am the oldest person there. What I mean is that I could be the father of the next oldest person. But, unlike my memory of the 1980s in Lansing, Michigan, of Pinball Petes, this place is clean, smells clean, has cheap drinks, and moderately expensive simple food (mostly hotdogs with vegan choices available–it is Portland). While I did not find my youth or any skills remaining, it was enjoyable, and I placed my Ground Kontrol under my driver’s license. I will be back!

(that is not my score!)

I have no terrible back pain, and what pain starts goes away if I walk at a slower pace. Thus, I enjoy Portland and look at all the shops I don’t recognize as I walk back toward the parking garage. Instead of boarding, I head to Powell’s and get a paper cup of cold water at the tourist-packed coffee shop. I sit on a stool, watching the tourists out the window. I found two excellent books in the maritime section but managed to resist them (but I know where they are). One of the books is an older book on Clipper ships with lines for the ships and their story, including two models of have. Very tempting. These are the ships folks think of when they think of a sailing ship, but they often confuse them with the surviving sailing ships, mostly Wind Jammers. Even Cutty Sark, a Clipper, is a transitional ship to Wind Jammers with its iron beams and cement (yes, cement).

Instead, I head to the gaming store and purchase some small bits for a newish role-playing game, Mothership. I have yet to play it, but I like the idea of creating a sci-fi horror story. The staff had played the game and told me that there is an alternative non-horror-based Mothership version, which is interesting. Next, I got a BLT and an excellent beer at the Hawthorn location for The Luck Labrador. I read some of the folded card adventures for Mothership and was happy to discover that these one-shot horror stories were excellent. They remind me of the stuff you see for Savage World’s one-sheet adventures.

I headed to Richard’s, and he made me a coffee to counteract the food and beer, and we got to Wrymspan four players: Richard, Lauren, Kathleen, and me. Richard had me explain the game to Lauren, who had not played before. I managed, I think, to get the process and how to win to Lauren, and we started. My start was rough, with no good plan and cards that did not match. Richard faced the same issue. Lauren and Kathleen practically yelped with delight as their cards and resources aligned.

I have never seen a game with so many extra coins, except for me! Richard and Kathleen would often have four extra coins in a round. They were unstoppable. Richard filled his board and was very happy. In the end, I scored an excellent 80 points, one point ahead of Lauren. Richard was over 100 and was not caught by Kathleen.

I drove Kathleen home. We talked about the lack of progress in technology and the next new thing. Corporations seem happy to extract cash from the existing tech and are not using it for the next disruption. We both bought laptops and found the newer models not much of a leap from the last ones. It seems Wall Street has had it with disruption and is just extracting cash from a slow change of existing products.

With that discussion done, Kathleen was home and I soon recrossed Portland and Beaverton. I arrived without issue, did the dishes, and soon was home. I finished a book and went to sleep.

Thanks for reading.

 

As has been my habit all week, I rose late and started the blog late. My house is cold; the orchids like it down to 65F (18C) or lower at night. I have no plans. I have the last banana with my French press creating coffee from locally ground and roasted beans. All of this was enough for me.

After cleaning up, I was dressed. The new shower rod arrived from Amazon (they have an insane range of choices and prices for what appears to be the same thing). Later in the day, I installed it and discarded the old one without regret. I find the extending shower rods start falling down after two years. The timer is started.

Lunch was homemade and forgotten. It is not often that I cannot recall part of my day, but today (Saturday morning), I have no idea what lunch was on Friday. I checked the trash and found the “fish fingers” box. Yes, that was it. I baked some Trader Joe’s fish sticks and some tater tots. I had this for a forgotten lunch while I watched the next episode of “Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power.” I have Trader Joe’s tatar sauce to go with the fish.

Later, my tummy complained. This is a new problem for me, as I seem to get a reaction to most foods. I will have to try smaller portions, and maybe that is the issue. Ugh!

The second episode has fewer replays and more action as the story takes off in new directions. It is not great, but it seems more Tolkien-like this time. Better.

I boarded an Air Volvo with no plans other than to walk through Forest Grove’s Pacific University’s tree-shaded campus. But Air Volvo warned that less than 20 miles of travel were left in the tank. Gas is down in price again, and soon, the full-service Chevron station made Air Volvo happy and me slightly poorer. Next, I stopped at the car wash; I bought a monthly pass to get the Air Volvo cleaned–it is cheaper.

The traffic through Hillsboro was lighter than I expected, and soon after arriving, I found an easy parking space in Old Town Forest Grove. It is 99-100F (40C), f**k, and the sun has a burning desert feel. I find the walk under the trees not too terrible, though I even walked through the student union (and managed to ignore the books store) to get out of the sun and heat for a minute.

My back is hurting now. It is a newish thing that has been bothering me on and off, but never at 2500 steps. F**k. I do a few antique stores, but it is quite uncomfortable. I talked to Dondrea as I was Air Volvo, and she took me back, leaving my walk half-done due to pain. She recommended the Portland Running Company’s store in Beaverton. It is now on the shortlist of to-dos.

The traffic back is in the Highway 8 parking lot, and I head to the highway instead of taking the more direct route home. I am retired, have gas, and a clean car; I enjoy the trip. Soon, Air Volvo arrives at The Volvo cave, missing the Friday Beaverton School gridlock start.

Back early at the house, I made teriyaki chicken, which was just average. Grilling out in the 100F heat was OK, as I could pop in and out of the AC. I made mashed potatoes instead of rice, which is the best part. It’s not exactly diabetic food, but I haven’t had mashed potatoes in a while.

I am at loose ends, and the painkillers have worked. I am off to Cedar Mills Crossing for ice cream or baked goods. Air Volvo gets there in light Friday night traffic. Parking was a different story; there were many ins and outs, and soon, Air Volvo dashed to the other side of the parking lot and found a spot. The ice cream place has a wrap-around line in over 90F temperatures. I do not need heat stroke while waiting for ice cream. I am not dying from irony! Paris Baguette (a NYC bakery chain now in Beaverton) was open, had no line, and their cases were loaded for Labor Day. I get some croissants, palmier, and bread. I ordered a fruit tart and coffee, an excellent replacement for ice cream with no chance of fatal irony. I walked more, finally reaching 4500 steps, my minimal goal, with my back hurting again.

I boarded Air Volvo and saw that the 15th anniversary of Coroline, the stop-action movie, was on nearby. After a short trip, I was seated with popcorn and enjoyed an excellent movie by Laika, a local company created by the family that created Nike. While a bit creepy it was an excellent movie.

Air Volvo brought me home, and I watched the latest “Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power” episode, number three. This one was more confusing, and giant Middle Earth spiders are nothing I want to watch—ick! All three were released on the same day. I am looking forward to the rest of the season of LOTR material. While not as entertaining or executed as “Murders in the Building,” I like it and don’t judge it too harshly against the original.

I showered and read. I was rolling over and over until around 2AM. That coffee with the tart was a mistake! I finally took some aspirin to counteract the caffeine and slept.

Thanks for reading!