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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!

With no plans for the day, I am slow to rise and enjoy luxuriating in the covers of my bed. I had woken a few times and had to prove hydration once. It takes more than a moment for me to recall, reassemble, and replay in words the previous day. Nero Wolf’s Archie can remember word-for-word conversation and recapitulates for Wolf in one of my favorite mysteries. Not a skill I have. Slowly, I connected the previous day’s events and wrote for hours. There were not many asides in this one, and I am happy to complete it before noon.

My leg muscles feel tight after two days of 4,500 steps, which is easy for many, but I am still breaking through. My lower back hurts when I stand or walk for more than a few hours. I hope to strengthen my back by walking and standing more and more. My cancer doctor told me my back, seen in the CT scans, is showing some age-appropriate issues. F**k that.

I assemble coffee using the French Press and locally ground and roasted coffee. I have felt that my weight loss has stalled, so I try to eat less (and often drink less). However, I am still 343 pounds. I am not that interested in breakfast.

The tiny orchids seem happy, enjoying the cold nights and warmish afternoons. They would like 80F (27C) or higher but may accept the cooler (and more livable) 70s we enjoy together. I still resist creating a perfect environment for the vandas and other orchid madness practices. If they want to avoid being mulch, the orchids will have to suck it up. I will also not be here for a week; they must survive that. I will not have an orchid sitter!

I finished the blog and decided that Portland will not be too hot today. Since it is Thursday before the Labor Day Weekend, it should still be a light day at the Portland Art Museum (PAM). I cleaned up and caught the shower rod falling and missing once. I have a replacement on order! I shave and all that and soon look the part of a retired guy.

MAX is not filled with people having a heated conversation with themselves. I use HOP to pay with my phone and have a comfortable ride-in. In the mail, I received my copy of Analog Magazine. To save money, I subscribed for about 40% off as I buy one most months. The editorial at the start of the text is excellent and even comes with footnotes to back its claims. I started to read the first SciFi story; I often read at least 1/2 of an issue. MAX, while not fast, seems to be instantly at my stop. I will have to get used to carrying earbuds again (I discovered I may adjust my iPhone to send all the sound to my working right ear) as the screeching rails are loud near the tunnel.

I walk up Park Street’s moderate hill. The cat models are still out celebrating locally made stop-motion films from LAIKA. PAM is not busy, and I ask the docents, who are trying to look invisible but attentive, what their favorite painting in the French Impressionist show is. Monet and Chagal got high marks in the “Monet to Matisse: French Moderns” show. These are paintings borrowed from the Brooklyn Museum, providing them to other museums as a show. While not the best pieces, it is worth a look. This is my second visit, and I liked it even more.

The docents were happy to chat, and I talked about the paintings. I conclude that one painting depicts a man wearing a 1920s American suit, as the cuff length is US, not European. I explained to the docents that the Gentleman’s Gazette on YouTube covers historical men’s fashions. They were fascinated, and we compared other portraits, and they could now notice the fashion change.

Next, I talked to a gal, Sue, who retired and now travels to various cities to visit their museums and is today in Portland and doing PAM and the Oregon Historical Society Museum across the street. We talk about painting and traveling, sitting on a bench in the gallery of the PAM items. She is excited to find another traveler (I am headed to Chicago next month) who does museums. Apparently, bedside orchid madness, I have discovered another madness, museum visiting. She has my blog website URL.

My back is acting up, and I headed out and decided to try the Oregon Museum. I pay $12 as I live in Washington County (free for locals) and am directed to the model wagon display and the Portland history display. My back is yelling at me now. The wagons are 1/8 hand-built reconstructions of the Oregon wagons from the time of horse-drawn wagons, which were made in 1940-1972 by Ivan Collins. According to the exhibit, he would reconstruct wagons from existing, often ruined, wagons and usually draw plans. Copies of these plans are for sale (that was tempting), and I marveled at the work. Ivan Collin built most models from the original materials and built tooling to match the scale. His goal was to create a preservation of history that was rotting away in his time in fields. His family had come to Oregon in a wagon.

I stopped by the gift store and found they have an order sheet for the plans, the most costly being about $40. I resisted, but I did update the Oregon Modeling Society Facebook with this option for modeling.

I headed down the hill and walked by a street-living gal with a clothing failure; I tried not to look as she was mostly topless. She asked for a dollar, and I found one and went to hand it to her, trying to keep eye contact. She then, nearly topless, pushed her chest together and suggested I should put the buck in her cleavage. I insisted, trying to keep eye contact, that she accept the dollar herself, and after waving her gals at me, she took the money and laughed. Trying to forget that vision, I retreated and headed to a nearby bar.

South Park is literally south of the park on Park Street and has nothing to do with a cartoon. I elected to sit outside and discovered that the police and locals were going for some street drama. The waiters said I got a free show. I saw nothing interesting other than lots of police. I did notice that Portland police have a Taser on their right side, a Glock pistol on the left, and a vest.

I ordered some wine and part of two of their boards of excellent cheeses, smoked trout, and a fish-based dip. This came with lots of sauces and house-made crackers. Their excellent bread and garlic-enriched butter were also served. I enjoyed a moment in their chair that stopped the back pain, and the wine soon blurred my recent retina-burning vision of the gal’s chest and intense face. The food was, while Portland-expensive, excellent, and as good as anywhere, if not better. South Park seldom disappoints if you don’t fight the price–I have been going there for years. Tip is calculated into your bill plus a 2.5% addition for using a credit card. I forgot to use cash.

I returned to the MAX without any new exposures or street drama and had time to visit an antique store before the MAX train pulled in. It is an excellent shop, and I will be back. I talked to the staff. They had turned an old suitcase onto its side and used it as an end table. I liked that and have an old clean suitcase I bought on a whim. I will check if it makes a good end table (I might buy a piece of plastic to cover it).

On the trip back on MAX, I read more Analog Magazine without anyone undressing or having a complex argument with themselves. I boarded Air Volvo and was soon home. My back hurt, but I soon found the recliner comfortable. I finished the last episode of last year’s season of Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power, and then started the new season. It is new season week!

Time was moving slowly for me, and I showered, got in my PJs, and read until 11. I enabled the AC, and soon, the house was cold, and I was under the covers. I soon slept and did not wake up until late.

Thanks for reading.

Tuesday was sunny but cloudless. It started at 48F (9C) as the clear skies froze us. Our summer and early fall climate is more desert than Pacific Northwest clouds and rain. I rose late to 63F (17C) in the house and had to open the doors to get above 70F. I hope the orchids are happy!

Breakfast is forgotten, but it did involve making locally ground and roasted coffee and the other half of the banana I used to add to my oatmeal on Monday. I think I made an NYC bagel (thanks, Joyce), toasted it, and smeared it with cream cheese. It is a bit blurry. I spent the remainder of the morning writing. I finished after 10, and I cleaned up and dressed. The shower rod fell again, and I was so used to it that I caught it. I finally ordered a replacement on Wednesday morning after it fell again; Corwin called this effort to get the last dollar out of the shower rod by constantly putting the failing item back up, pole dancing.

I reheated the chili I made a few days ago. It was still excellent (there is a bag frozen in the freezer for more chili later). I had that while editing my 500-word horror story. I had thought about it and was trying to get the right mix of story and horror with the horror escaping me. After the chili, some writing and editing, and while it was still cool, I did my long 4,500-step walk in the neighborhood. I saw other walkers who smiled, and we often exchanged encouraging words. I walked as fast as I could without running and was done in less than an hour.

I’m off to Big River Coffee to get more serious about writing (and have more coffee and a cookie). There, often distracted by texting, the Internet, and travel planning, I managed to get the story to work. I also vacuum up extra words and build in transitions, avoiding more wastage in the writing. I manage 496 words for a decent story, with most words all worthy of being included. I then searched for the posting option and learned, deeply disappointed, that the deadline was last week, not next week. Still, it is not a wasted effort, and I am prepared for 2025’s contest.

Deborah and I chatted, arranging the last details of her trip to Chicago, which overlaps with my trip. Deborah will be there on Friday, and I am flying all night to arrive early Friday morning. We will both stay at the Palmer House, just a few blocks from the Art Institute and five blocks from the Theater.

Returning to the story, I was still feeling odd, so I decided to head to BJ’s Brewhouse, and there, just after 5, I sat at a tall table in the bar area, which was my usual choice. I have a new, unmemorable waiter who only becomes interested in me when I order the most expensive item, ribeye steak, on the menu. They had raised their prices, and their steaks now were close to steakhouse prices (of a few years ago). I suspect fewer were ordered now, as I could see my waiter’s surprise when I ordered it. Theirs is my favorite beer. I did have trouble finishing the beer and the steak. Also, my tastes have changed from the brain surgery and thrush infection, and while I can now taste the steak, it needed salt (something I never needed to do before). Sadly, I could make a better steak at home (their steak was slightly tough) and have. Still, I enjoyed the place with the other staff waving and saying ‘hello.’ Still one of my favs.

Air Volvo soon had me home, and I checked all my investments. The stock market has pushed my 401K to heights I have not seen in a few years. The highs of 2021 have yet to be reached but are now within sight. I do not plan to start withdrawing from the 401K for a few years. I want to roll it over to IMPAX (the new name for the old PAX fund) or something from eTrade. I am not in a rush. My IRA (inherited from Susie) is in IMPAX and has done well. I want something I can easily withdraw from.

I am full of nervous energy and cannot seem to relax. I decided to try to distract myself by returning to the new season (it is new season week!) of “Murders Only in the Building.” I love this show, but I warn you, dear reader, that it is terrible for the first episodes of season one. While messy, the new season started with another murder, with the episode refusing to begin like any other season; fun!

Next, unable to relax, I watch “Lord of the Rings, Rings of Power” and enjoy some of their best episodes and acting in season one. Near its season closing, the show finally starts to feel Tolkien and worthy of LOTR. I leave the season close for the next day.

I shower, put back the falling shower rod again (‘poll dancing’), find my PJs, and read the last chapter of The Orchid Thief. I like the book’s ending and recommend it, but be warned: After reading it, you might want to try orchid growing, and orchid madness is a real thing.

As I said, I could not sleep until after 1. The books did not help me sleep. After some painkillers (just light stuff), I stopped having foot cramps, fell asleep, and did not wake until after 8.

Thanks for reading.