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One of the strangest things for me is having nothing planned and no plans in the morning. There is no need to get up early, rush, and start an early morning at Nike WHQ. No 6:30 morning Zoom meetings (morning or evening). The days no longer disappear, and the weeks do not vanish like pages in a book blown like wind. When I write this, it is Thursday morning, and it seems like the week is moving slowly, and the days are full.

With no plans and feeling tired, I stay in bed until 8ish. I rise, find the last banana, and have liberal coffee with it. I wrote a blog until 11 and felt I could have been going for another hour, but I felt the pull of the day and wanted to get outside and enjoy the bright sun. I clean up and make lunch. I have no tomatoes and know when many, including Dondrea, would think a BLT reduced to a BL is abhorrent, but I have always loved them. I cook the uncured bacon (I avoid over-processed foods after reading so much bad news about them), and soon, the house fills with the smell of cooking bacon. I litter the sink with more undone dishes, without guilt, after I finish my sandwich and place excess cooked bacon for a later meal in a ziplock bag and in the frig.

Full and more than ready to get outside, I boarded Air Volvo, which is all but on autopilot, as I headed west to Hillsboro (this was the trek to reach Susie when she was in Forest Grove for months). Surprised, Air Volvo located a convenient parking spot, and soon, I was in the bright but not overly hot sun in Hillsboro. Antiques, food, beer, and coffee are easily found in the clean and bright downtown. An excellent hobby store specializing in trains, models, and doll houses makes it perfect for my needs, and a gaming store that always has hard-to-find-new board games makes Hillsboro always expensive. On this trip, I passed on the hobby and gaming store.

First, I stopped at the old converted theater, now an antique mall, and located the Account Handbook, 1923 (ten years after income tax was reinstated in the USA) I discovered before. Previously, I could not buy it as it had no price, and I had to wait for the vendor of the stall in the antique mall to correct that. I was delayed on my return and found the book back on a shelf with a price (and my name and phone number still in the book on a piece of paper!). I took the book and wandered the place to see if something else required consideration. Nothing else needed my attention, and soon, I was in line to buy my book. A girl bought a pretty Art Deco cat china statue, and a guy bought some old-style china tea cups and a sugar bowl. You can get unmatching but lovely tea cups, teapots, and the works at any antique place for a few bucks–don’t buy more expensive mugs at IKEA; instead, impress your friends with your cheap and bohemian tea set (thinking of James Wagner’s tea cups when I write this).

I bought my Account Handbook, which looks more like a bible than technical work with a black, almost leather cover and gilded pages, for only $8. I paid cash. The antique mall is a collective, and the front desk does the paperwork for the sale, and the results, minus a small handling fee, are returned to the stall owner, who also pays a small rent and usually starts in the worst locations far in the back. They can acquire a better location as they show their ability to pay rent, have some sales, and are neat. I watch, having been visiting a few months, and much of the stock is turned over, and younger folks can find nick-nacks and some house good for cheap here.

Aside: Why a 1923 Account Handbook? I play the Call of Cthulhu role playing game, and props from the 1920s are always welcome. I also find the text of handbooks and travel guides from the time period can open your eyes to the 1920s. There are usually interesting opening texts and updates about law changes that you can only find in these books that create an insight into the times. For example, the Federal Reserve was in place in 1923 (I did not know it went back to the 20s) and described on pages 864-866. The text mentions the reserve requirement of gold of 40% created in 1921. Well, maybe not interesting to you; it may be fun to build a horror story starting with an accountant discovering something is amiss or maybe some arcane plot that makes the gold disappear in a vault, possibly wrecking the reverse bank. Yes, I get ideas from these very mundane texts. Even one of the James Bond books, a favorite I have read over and over, Goldfinger, is about issues with British gold reserves. As for the book I bought, the cover shows its age, but the pages show almost no use. Excellent.

As I said before, I had no plans, so I wandered to the next antique store (which had nothing I needed) and raided the two bakeries for breakfast baked goods (a chocolate croissant I had already consumed Thursday morning). I return the goods and book to Air Volvo, and then walk back, needing the steps, and head to the Washington County Courthouse; Hillsboro is the county seat. I am there to look at the giant redwoods planted in 1880. The huge trees and other plantings make the area restful. The trees are not as large as those older ones in California but are, by quite a distance, the tallest things in Hillsboro. Nothing prepares you for the size of these trees as, unlike the forest further south, these few are alone, and you get the feeling of standing at the feet of giants.

I always take a pinecone home with me when I visit.

I sit at a nearby bench on the courthouse grounds and read and relax. A few lawyers see me, notable for the suit and leather document bag over the shoulder, who smile when they see me, and I tell them I am just enjoying the trees. One busy guy says, “Yes, I forget how beautiful it is here.” I think it is good to be retired and read some more on my iPhone (I have the Kindle app on the iPhone). Soon, I head-on. I buy pasta sauce, pasta, and expensive ground coffee, which they roast at the shop, and board Air Volvo. Without difficulty, I reach the Volvo Cave. I defrost some spicy Italian-style sausage and fry it in a pan, heat the sauce, and boil water. After 4PM, I start to assemble dinner. I managed to eat a few bowls.

I am off to First United Methodist Church in Beaverton. I have a new Progress Flag to replace the aging Pride Flag at the church (see the link to learn the history of these flag types). The top strip of the old flag is red, meaning it is a later design (pink goes on the top if it matches the original design, but it is hard to find). Z is expecting to play games and is surprised when I get out the toolbox, flag, pole, and other tools and equipment. The flag was lost in a storm, recovered on the other side of the church, and put back, and the pole was broken by folks attempting (we believe) to do a pull-up on the wooden pole, unsuccessfully. The slightly truncated pole was reused. It was time for an upgrade.

I have new printed Progress Flags with metal eyelets for attachment; I buy them two at a time from Amazon and a new pole (also from Amazon). I have a plastic ring with a clip. The old flag was sewed pieces of high wear and flame-resistance plastic cloth (it is nearly impossible to burn) into the familiar rainbow stripes. The new flag is printed on plastic cloth that will resist burning, will not fade soon, and has the check that makes it a Progress Flag.

I use vice grips to undo the screw that holds the pole in the holder. Lucky for us, no well-meaning liberal at the church glued the pole into the holder (that had the thieves have to smash up the flag holder and required a slightly more expensive upgrade–I keep at least one flag holder at the house, too) and the old flag was removed without issue. The old flag has a pocket that goes over the pole and a single clip to hold it. The new flag uses two clips and hangs from the pole clips. The flag waves more. Z helps me disassemble the old flag and reassemble the new flag on the new pole. With a full-sized pole, the flag is now four inches further out towards the street. It is a grand-looking new flag.

(Z is wearing a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt–she has no idea what that is; see link–that matches well for today. BTW KINK.fm always plays this for eclipses here–there is no place like home.)

Don’t worry, fellow liberals. As I said, I have more flags if someone “needs” this one.

After I put away the tools and old flag and pole, Z and I play the Euro-trash Istanbul board game, originally published in German and English. I have the newer, all-English Big Box version made from better card stock. We play just the base game, and it takes Z and me a while to get back into this one. It plays fast, and Z is quick and soon adopts my usual steps, forcing me to make less efficient moves. I make some mistakes, one grievous and costing me a turn. It is enough for me to see Z has me beat. My last move had I planned it better, could have gotten me a tie (I took the wrong extra item, so I could not trade goods for a ruby at the palace). I would still lose with money being the tiebreaker–Z had plenty left, but it would have been at least close.

With that quick shellacking–Z is relentless, I was ready to do better. We had time for two more games, and I managed to get ahead of Z in both and remain there. I was back to my usual efficient play. I like this game so much that I play by myself with me playing all three players. Istanbul is called a Euro game (or Euro-Trash). It is a race to collect rubies by completing certain goals and collecting a mix of resources to achieve those goals. You fill your cart with rubies to win. Resource collecting, worker placement, achievement for victory, no combat, and unique movement systems are the hallmarks of the Euro-trash games.  The word is no longer considered pejorative; it is just a fun description. The game US-designed game Scythe contains all the elements mentioned except it includes combat and player conflict, making it Amera-trash.

I managed to get one or two rubies ahead of Z, and Z watched as I won the game two more times. I made no mistakes, varied my plans to fit the board situation, and kept all my moves extremely efficient. I even had a chance to redeem my previous game by this time taking the correct item and using the Palace to get my winning ruby. I just know the base game well;  Z is still putting it together. Next time, we will change the base game to the “long” board or add in coffee, a fun add-on that allows for more choices and new ways to be highly efficient. I also do not know this version well.

(We are starting the second game. Z is happy she beat me in the first game)

The choir does not practice in the summer; we were done at 8ish. I returned home after wishing folks goodnight and watched more House of Dragons at the Volvo Cave. It is not great, and the storyline or plot (maybe that is too strong of a word for events that appear to be rolled from a chart of random possible choices) moves in strange stops and starts; I could not stop watching until it was late, it is addictive, and I stopped one episode that appeared to be headed for another random event (you can almost hear the dice being rolled by the writers). I went to bed as Thursday began after a shower. I leaned back to wash my hair and grabbed the bar in the shower. My eyes were closed to avoid soap in my eyes, and I kept going back. I am so happy to have those bars installed for Susie (who never used them- she never saw them except in a picture). To my fellow folks who are going gray or are already there (some colored), it is time to get those bathroom safety items installed before you are grabbing for them if you don’t have them yet.

I read for a while more and soon fell asleep. I dreamed. Mariah texted me earlier on Thursday about her camping challenge. A bear visited her tent, and she scared it away by locking and unlocking her car–excellent work. Except I dreamed I was camping with Mariah, and we were swimming in a river, and a bear was chasing us. We jumped on a log, and so did the dream-bear. I woke just as I was throwing off the covers to jump off the log, which would have landed me out of bed and onto the floor. I laughed for quite a while at my near disaster. Yes, maybe I dream a little realistically.

I am fine this morning. Thanks for reading.

I rose around 7:30, wanting to avoid losing the day and get the blog done in the morning. I started to write about 8ish after making coffee (liberal coffee made in my French Press) and having a banana. I wrote, with some interruption, until 11ish. I also activated my Alaska Air Miles Visa and started replacing my US Bank Card with my checking account. I want the miles and, more importantly, my checking account further away from daily transactions. I just want it to pay repeating bills and transfer (the type of transaction I record in Quicken) a single payment each month to the credit cards. This is what I do with AMEX. I now have the Alaska Air Miles Visa downloads working for Quicken and transferring money from my checking. I am also replacing AMEX with the Alaska Air Miles Visa to get the miles.

I got a note from Jenny that she, too, uses eye grease and is having trouble buying the OTC product. She must order it and pick it up when they get it in. I found it on Amazon, and I will see if that works. I am always surprised by how difficult it has become to obtain anything medical, even OTC, these last few years. If Elon Musk wants to impress me, forget Mars; he needs to run a pharmacy in Beaverton and fully stock it. That would be a worthy and near-impossible task.

The blog was longer than I expected, and I made lunch. I got out a frozen salmon burger from Trader Joe’s. I used the tiny non-stick pan and soon covered it with a plate and added some water to steam and cook the salmon fully. I had some nice buns from New Seasons and toasted one. While not good for me, I also baked some tater tots (also from Trader Joe’s). I cleaned up and dressed, ate my lunch with care and no choaking, and watched some videos on YouTube. ShipHappened has a new episode involving repairing a piston spring and reassembling the ship’s engine. Next, I watched a fascinating description of the history of AC on Battleship New Jersey. Apparently, sailors baked in the ship in WW2. AC came later with an all-volunteer force starting in the 1950s. Lastly, I am enjoying the Lady K Sailing channel, which is about learning how to be a sailboat owner. The channel’s producer sails on the Great Lakes, and his drive is to get as many people sailing their own boats as he can. This is not for the rich, he tells us and finds ads for boats you could buy and sail.

I ordered more XIAO hardware and will soon return to the miniature submarine/diving bell project. Some of the material from Seeed (not the band, but the China-based hardware company) will come from China. You can order it on Amazon, too, and after shipping, the hardware may be cheaper on Amazon. I have been enjoying the hot sunny days and will likely be more interested in indoor projects when the rains return.

I decided, after discovering I could not donate Susie’s dress, that the Peal District in Portland was a good place for walking. It is a slow but not terrible trip into Portland as the Pearl District is on this side of the rivers. I park in the garage under Whole Foods. I take the elevator with my parking ticket (and lose it) and head to Powell’s.

Outside Powell’s City of Books location, a man is selling his book, and I pay $20 in cash for a copy. He signs it for me. After that, I headed into the temple of printed paper knowledge, reportedly slightly haunted by the previous owner and former angry employees who can’t quite pass on. I saw no ghosts, but I did recognize that the old occult section had been revised to crime, and the occult books were away from the haunted corner near the religion section. I was looking at Greek bible books and found an excellent concordance that I decided I could pass on now (the Internet is an excellent concordance), but this one did cover the Early Church Fathers, which I seldom see referenced in my Google searches. I might be back (sold ‘as-is’ for $20).

(Notice that AI is now near Hobby stuff–I agree)

Lately, I have found myself reading more Greek New Testament writings. I gave my Hebrew stuff away as I seldom used it. I have my Greek-English books and various translations (KJ, RSV, NRSV, Tyndale, Philips, and some others). The Internet makes this work easier now, but it is hard to know if your search shows you everything you need. And some jokers could mess with a source, and few would know. I find that I agree with NRSV most, but sometimes it tries to recall the KJ, and this can make it, I think, miss. I had to translate my own Revelations once, as I thought the KJ translation was just plain wrong.

Rev 22, according to Wild: “And he, the angel, points out to me a river of living water glowing like crystal sent forth from the throne of God and Lamb.”

Leaving the haunted floor, I found a book about moving from London to live in Casablanca, and a follow-up book continued the story. I bought the first one (used) and a book on Absinthe. I resisted any new cookbooks; there was a coffee table-sized India-style book that I dared not open the cover. I will stick to my 666 Curries by the late Raghavan Iyer. I would send pictures of my attempts to his X account, and he would praise them. I miss him! His colon cancer spread as it was detected late and ended his life. As I survived colon cancer (so far), his loss hurts.

I headed to Deschutes down the street, stopping by the Armory to get next season’s flyer. Yes, they are doing Sweeney Todd, and maybe they can set it in the protests for 2020-2022 in Portland. “The Worst Pies in Portland” would get me singing along. Likely, they will follow the usual London setting.

I had a Black Butte Porter and deviled eggs. That was more beer than I am used to. I read for a while and then had a nice chat with a tourist who sells roofing supplies. We were on opposite sides politically, but we agreed about the lack of service and caring, the drive for profits over the longer-term survivability of a business, and the loss of pro-customer thinking. It was nice to chat about anything that does not include the words Biden or Trump.

I needed to walk, and the hot sun felt good. I walked the tourist areas of the Pearl and back. There was some shade here, and it was from buildings. I was surprised by how the food joints had changed and that some of the high-end but not necessarily good places still survived. I will have to be back, maybe with Z and Dondrea, and try some of the less-dressed places. I managed to hit 3,000 steps and was at Screen Door as they opened at 4:30.

I took a stool at the bar at Screen Door and told folks I was not in a hurry as they continued to open. I ordered coffee and pecan pie. The pie was excellently made with a little chocolate and homemade whipped cream with a hint of vanilla. I ate it slowly and watched. The seat I took looks into the kitchen, and all the food must pass by it (I take one seat as I then avoid dodging the food). It has a great view and is perfect with pie.

I watched the waitstaff get their items and then wait impatiently for corrections and additions missed by the cooks. The cooks are flying, and often, the manager inside has to make a few fixes. I noticed the manager point out which direction to point the plate at the customer to the waitstaff. Excellent!

I headed home and realized I did not have my ticket for Air Volvo. I asked security, and they told me to head past the gates and reach the next set where a person could help me. I followed directions in Air Volvo and was surprised that parking was free. Nice!

I returned home to the Volvo Cave without incident or much traffic, except for the short bit to get into the 26 tunnel. There, I watched two episodes of Season Two of House of Dragon. It picked up where it left off in Season One. I like the special effects and the grand vistas, but the plot is brutal and dark or, in other words, usual for the show. While I can’t recommend it, I could barely stop at two episodes! It is very addictive.

I finished the dishes that had languished in the washing machine and sink. I also folded and put away all the laundry that had accumulated for too long. The depression had faded, but it might have held on to me longer than I thought—I do not usually let laundry and dishes languish. Again, I feel for those who face depression for longer episodes.

I took out graph paper, read through my Dungeons and Dragons adventure, and finally drew a first draft map. I will use the draft to create a map I can scan and put in the finished document. It is the last thing remaining to complete the initial work. I am considering contacting some artists to draw a cover and add a few images to the text. I saw that AI-generate art has to be called out in DriveThruRPG now and appears to be a handicap for sales.

I went to bed after taking a shower. I read until late. When I finally decided to sleep, I used the last of my eye grease, squeezing out the last bits.

Thanks for reading!

 

Monday started with me rising after 7. I had slept all night and woke early as I had to get Air Volvo to a local auto repair shop within walking distance of the Volvo Cave: TV Highway Automotive. The local Volvo dealership could not provide service until September. I would need to try the locals. The shop was highly rated online (meaning very little). They had run a diagnostic and said that the Air Volvo was driveable and said to bring it on Monday.

I quickly ate a banana and had half a cup of coffee. I checked the news, which was mostly political and uninteresting. My Quicken setup downloaded all the transactions, and I saw that my Ford (F) stock was improving. Ford’s regular stock pays over a 4% dividend (as the price goes up, the dividend percentage reduces) and is appreciating (finally!) as I think Ford has finished finding new ways to screw up. However, Tesla’s ugly silver truck was reported to be out-selling Ford’s electric truck, and I also read that Michigan reduced its corporate welfare (my words) payments to Ford after Ford announced that it would reduce the output of its new battery plant. Be warned, if you are enchanted with Ford stock after my summary, it is not a risk-free investment by any measure.

I collected my walking gear and laptop, boarded Air Volvo, and took the short trip to the repair shop. I filled out a new customer form, and Alex took over Air Volvo and landed it in a bay to work on. I found a chair in the tiny lobby, took a stool that was not in use and planted my laptop on it. I used my phone as a hotspot for Internet access. I prefer to use that than acquiring some Wi-Fi, which may be a hacker’s paradise. My phone signal was weak, so I did have a slow connection, but I could make it work.

Aside: Get the hotspot technology working on your phone when you travel and use it instead of hotel or other friendly Wi-Fi connections. The risk of grabbing some fast, unknown Wi-Fi and being hacked is too great now.

The repair shop’s staff let me know that they were having trouble isolating the issue and would need to start charging me for the diagnosis work. I agreed. They went on to say that getting parts for the Volvo was hard and may take some time (another supply chain issue) and that the parts were expensive. I smiled; they did not want to charge me for high-cost repairs and parts, and I told them if you own that, pointing at Air Volvo, you pay a lot, and I agreed and understood. They laughed with me.

They next did a smoke test, looking for an air/exhaust leak. They pumped smoke into the engine. The staff told me to see this. Smoke was whispy and coming around a round cup-like item on top of Air Volvo’s engine. It was the first time I had seen under the hood–I am not a car guy. We talked about it, and a new part would be ordered for the leaking cup, new spark plugs would be installed, and an oil change would be done. This should cover the unlikely problem that a bad plug was a secondary cause (65K miles on the plugs was enough). Two hours later, the engine light was gone, and the problem was solved. The o-ring on the oil fill cap was the problem, f**k. TV Highway Automotive staff apologized for the $43 charge for the new oil fill cap, as the o-ring was a precise size and could only be acquired with a new cap. I escaped with less than a $700 charge–a light bill for Air Volvo.

I drove to Carl’s Jr and had a celebration Western Burger, but I could not finish it. Next, I headed to Reedville Creek Park and managed to put three loops in. I was stiff from sitting and also tired from all the standing yesterday when I cooked the hotdogs for church. I could not do the last loop in the heat and back pain. I tried walking a loop, reading a chapter, and restarting the walking. The heat and back pain had me stop. I would reach 4,000+ steps for the day.

I did travel to a nearby Lowe’s and walked through it to find tankless water heaters. I want to convert the bathroom, which is far from the natural gas water heater to something fast and efficient. I have to run the sinks and showers for a while to get hot water. It seems a terrible waste (the Machine and new dishwasher are not far from the existing hot water). This would mean getting 220V lines there and revising the plumbing. It is not that I have drunk the EV kool-aide (which is what my Republican readers are thinking), but I hate to waste water, and I like the showers hot. I am aware that there will never be a payback for this change. I believe that the tax credits have expired. This was a “just looking” moment on house upgrades.

Tired but enjoying having Air Volvo back and feeling that it was running slightly better, I returned to the Volvo Cave. I rested and read for a while. Depression rose.

Depression, for me, is the feeling of deep sadness that has no source and, thereby, no fix. My mind becomes deeply sad, and everything is now discolored or colorless by this deep sadness. Many people suffer from this much more often and may be facing depression every day. And while I do not welcome it, I am now blessed to understand depression and why it has devastated so many lives. My depression started after cancer and may be the result of the drugs or just the stress. Brain surgery and the trauma of healing are also likely a cause. It is transitory and soon fades. It leaves me frightened as I can’t predict it, and I am terrified it will stay.

I understand that there are certain self-made chemicals (dopamine comes to mind) that help us stay balanced and happy. People (and now possibly myself) develop a deficiency in the production of these chemicals, and depression comes. If my condition worsens and the sadness becomes part of my days, I will get help. Please have sympathy for those who face their own personal darkness.

Returning to the story, I am out of eye night grease (yes, grease) that keeps my left eye safe when I sleep (it may not close completely). I head to the nearby Walgreens, and they are not restocking their eye items, f**k. I find something like what I use and pay too much for it. The cash register guy suggests I join their club to get a better price. I do. I saved three dollars (or I would say I was being overcharged by $3 to keep my privacy–f**king evil corporations). I grab my stuff (including old-fashioned graph paper to draw a map of one of my Dungeon and Dragons adventures), and then the clerk runs out after me and hands me my phone. In our current world of corporate overreach, we humans need to look out for ourselves, and I thank him. It makes his day, I think, to help someone.

The Aloha Carts are there in the drug store parking lot, and I stop by Bombay Chaat House, and the gals are happy to see me. “Michael, we have missed you,” was their response to my order. I explained that I was trying to lose weight and that eating out was not good for that. They agree, and I learn that they, too, are fighting weight gain. We chat about walking and traveling and walking.

Soon, I had all of the veggie Indian-style food with a chai, which was so hot I could not hold the cup without a napkin. I let it cool and then enjoy it. A pair of forty-something women are loudly discussing job interviewing and layoff issues. I try to ignore them (wishing I had brought noise-canceling headphones); I want to give them their privacy. I eat, start writing, and stay for a few hours. The food, the friendly humans, and the work make the depression fade and then disappear.

I head to the Wildwood Taphouse and soon order a beer “dark like my life.” JR is there, and he suggests the best of the dark–not sweet. JR and I catch up, having not seen each other in months. This is my second visit to the taphouse since my surgery (it is hard to lose weight if one is enjoying their excellent beer products more than once a week!). I share some of my experiences and learnings from certain events that JR shared. I don’t tell other people’s stories here.

I wrote more, found my groove, and made some improvements to my Dungeons and Dragons adventure. I also changed the version number and saved a new version. I do this to protect myself from loss and to recover anything I decide later was a poor change; an undo button, if you like. I am no longer just editing and fixing mistakes. In a 19K word 30-page document that is quite technical, the mistakes are manifold and require long hours to find them all and correct them (and correct the fumbled corrections), and it took long hours to get the document this clean. I am improving and clarifying the process of running the adventure. I include boxes of text that cover how the adventure played and suggest changes for the Dungeon Master (DM, the person who runs the adventure as opposed to running a character in the adventure). I need some drawings of the complex to finish this. I might contact an artist to make a cool cover for it and maybe a few scenes from inside.

I wrote and revised it for a couple of hours. When I am running, I can handle the complexity, but it does not really add more to the player’s experience. I dropped the complexity from the text, and this will make the adventure easier to execute.

I paid my bill after having some chips and salsa and a glass of water. I am not used to heavy beers, and the water and the chips help. I headed out after chatting with JR some more. Air Volvo got me home without the engine check light reappearing. Excellent.

I read Maisie Dobbs, the final book of the series. I noticed the author reintroducing the past for those who have read the previous fifteen books and providing one more mystery for Ms. Dobbs after her retirement (now Mrs. Scott in the stories) to solve at the end of WW2. I am apprehensive while reading as the author, Jacqueline Winspear, has killed or wounded her supporting characters in previous books, and one of them has already expired in this book. Will Maisie pass like Hercule Poirot to end the series with the last words being in an explanatory letter? What will happen to her adopted daughter? It is hard to read when you know there is a sword hanging above–this is the last book.

I do like the execution and the mix of characters. Ms. Dobbs’ stories, while often telling what she is thinking, are not completely in the first person. I would carefully look at these books if I started to write a detective novel. The mix of narration and self-reflection seems perfect to me. The use of many and varied supporting characters is more true to life and prevents the creation of a superhuman-powered person like Sherlock Holmes or Poirot with his “little gray cells.” Recommended (some books more than others).

Louise Penny’s Chief Inspector Armand Gamache’s murder/crime novels, set in the present, are my current favorites.

Later, I discovered that the new eye grease at Walgreens is not the right stuff–more drops than goo. I used it anyway, and it helped some. I will visit other, hopefully restocking pharmacies for more of the correct product.

My plans for Tuesday were to donate Susie’s wedding dress to Brides for a Cause, but they no longer take older dresses. I know Susie would have loved the idea that her 1990 wedding dress and hats were headed to people who would reuse them, but alas, that will not happen on Tuesday. I will look for other solutions.

I read and soon was asleep. I dreamed of being back at Nike, and all the family folks, including Susie and Dad, were there for a BBQ at the WHQ. The food was awful, but everyone was still having a good time.

Thanks for reading.

I had to get going early and rush the blog writing. I was tapped to grill hot dogs for First United Methodist Church in Beaverton next to the fountain and the Farmer’s market. I was up with my phone alarm at 7AM. I am retired, and I have no need for alarms. I usually just rise when I feel it is time to start my morning. Often, the sunrise wakes me, but then I go back to sleep.

Coffee and a slightly aging berry and cheese Danish was breakfast. I had purchased the Danish from La Provence Boulangerie & Patisserie at Orenco Station, an unequaled bakery, and even older, it was still better than most. I ate those while banging out another blog entry on my Apple. With limited time, I stayed to the events and skipped any boiler pieces and commentary. I was still over 800 words as time was running out. I published it all, overflowing my time limit by fifteen minutes. It was a conservative every-thing-breaks planning time limit. As my grill was already moved to the church, my only concern was that the grill still worked, the gas tanks were there, and folks actually had hot dogs to cook. Any of these failures would require at least an hour to recover. You, dear reader, may think I am overthinking this, but I have seen these challenges at church events. The only fix is to be early and have enough time to overcome the issues.

I cleaned up and dressed in Air Force Ones and my usual LL Bean pants, but now I have added a white dress shirt, pride tie, and sweater vest. I also have my blue-striped cooking apron and brought a bright orange Zbar’s apron that came in a gift box (I think it was from the Smiths) for Z. Z agreed to help cook.

When I arrived after nine, the Praise Band was practicing in the sanctuary. Z (Dondrea brings Z to church, usually early, as Dondrea is the worship leader) was frustrated in her attempt to make coffee because the filters were missing. We found the grill and tanks, and I dragged them outside and connected everything. Lemonade was made so the church members would get a chance to decaffeinate with lemonade.

The moving process knocked about the splash and grill plates. I put them back and lighted the grill, and everything worked. Now, I was just too early. Z and I saw that the church service was going by unusually fast. I lit the grill and set it on to the maximum to burn off any oils from previous food.

We found the pack of hot dogs, two packs of 24, and opened one. We also had two packs of Polish dogs, 12 to a pack. I turned down the grill, and we started the process. Z learned that you just roll the dogs. Z also learned that reaching over a very hot grill with metal could get hot fast! She used a long-handled flipper after that. We pushed the dogs to get grill marks on each side and some small burn marks here and there. We did not cinder anything or drop any.

We got the Polish dogs and started rolling them. Soon, those were cooked. Pastor Ken had spent some time covering the attempted assassination of former President Trump and America’s painful history of assassinations. There are so many assassins that Off-Broadway did a musical of the presidential assassins: Assassins. The church service finished later than we expected.

Z and I grabbed the hot dogs already cooked and returned them to the grill.  We sent them to the now crowd hot. Z got the next batch of hot dogs (we did not cook the second pack of Polish Dogs as there was plenty already). The grill was now cooler, and Z did not experience hot-handed moments; it was more comfortable cooking. Z rolled the dogs until the grill marks and a few burn marks made them extra delicious, and soon we were done. I turned off the grill and left it open to cool. I detached the gas tank and moved it inside (a tempting theft target, and it best not to have them where crazy people could find them).

I had a hot dog and enjoyed chatting with Ashley, Andrew, Dondrea, and Z as we sat together. We had dinner and games the day before. The grill would be returned after it cooled down. I cannot lift it due to restrictions from my brain surgery, and my balance issues are best not tested by lifting a heavy gas grill anyway.

I returned home, changed into cooler clothing, and rested. That evening, I woke up and started preparing for my Dungeons and Dragons 5E game. My character turned good and to the domain of light, which meant all new abilities and spells. I had to learn them. I thought I had a handle on it, but I still had to look up some things.

The game was that evening, and soon, Air Volvo, still with a check engine light, carried me to Matt’s. Matt grilled hamburgers and served salad with them. Matt had used his 3D dungeon-building skills to make a spectacular play area. We are now on the 14th level, and soon, we will face powerful demons represented by figures six inches tall. We are at the level where really scary-looking things are placed on the gaming table.

My character has a very high armor class and is a cleric of light and, thus, was mostly blasting things. We had to withdraw once (I was unconscious). We regrouped and got some help and went back and used better tactics for an all-out demon-filled dungeon fight. We found more bad demonic company; I will not cover the details as this is published material. We fought all evening and finally won.

I returned home in Air Volvo after talking to Scott about tactics and options. There are only four players in our group (five being the usual number), and we are not organized for dungeon crawls. We will see if we can make some improvements.

I was tired from a long day. After a shower, I read and fell asleep in bed. Thanks for reading!

I am writing this Sunday morning, and I am time-boxed as I am cooking for the church this morning. I will cover only some events, and I will go backward as there is less going on in the morning.

Former President Trump was shot today at a rally in Pennsylvania. I was following events of that terrible happening all early evening and night. I imagine nearly everyone in the USA was following.

I arrived in Air Volvo at the Volvo Cave as the clock told me Saturday was over and Sunday had started; it was past midnight when I quickly got into my PJs and tried to sleep. The excitement of playing Wyrmspan made it a little hard to find sleep, but I soon nodded off.

Ashley and Andrew had invited the DMZ (Dondrea, Michael–me, and Z) to dinner and games at their apartment in Slabtown, Portland. According to Ashley, this is “Little California” in NW Portland. I had not been in this area in years (before the pandemic), and the dive bars were gone. It was clearly upscale and gentrified. The crowd on the street looked young and reminded me of Hell’s Kitchen in NYC, an area that had changed from scary to hip.

Ashley and Andrew had made a wonderful Hawian-style dinner of bits of chicken cooked in hot oil marinated in a flour mix. Salad, a pasta salad, and rice finished this out. Spicy sauces were available for the chicken. Dondrea brought some sparkling wine and fresh pineapple. I bought the games.

We got out the board game Wyrmspan after dinner. This would be a five-player game, and Ashley had not played before, and Dondrea had only played once. I taught the game, and this made the game seem filled with complex rules and processes, but the play in Wyrnspan just flows and is easy to follow, and soon Ashley did not need much help, and Dondrea would pull ahead and become the person to catch. Z stalled and was not much of a threat. Andrew appeared to pull ahead like Dondrea.

I helped Ashley and others to make better decisions as the game was new to them. Z found (as I did) that with five players, those excellent cards on display seldom make it around to you! Dondrea, Z, and Ashley completed a row (the gold one) of dragons and used that to get many cards. I completed only one row, but I was the first player to complete three columns (unfortunately, the Dragon Guild scoring for columns was filled before I could get it, losing me nine points!). Andrew would do this for nine points, as he did get the scoring bonus. I learned that by having three good rows, but not complete rows, and not spending on the last excavation column, I could play more dragons, and exploring all my caves gave me a balanced set of resources and cards. This took me to first place, with Dondrea nearly catching me; Ashley was next in points. Andrew was ahead of Z, who had little luck in this play (that happens to me sometimes). Everyone had a good time, and everyone liked the game.

Moving to the afternoon, I received my COBRA paperwork from Nike in snail mail (instead of email!), and I immediately filled out the form to resume my medical coverage for about $750 a month. My severance package has Nike paying for the first six months of COBRA (June-December), and then I can pay the cost and get another year of coverage. I looked through the papers and read some. There is small print and lots of pages trying to say you might have better options on the Marketplace via what we usually call Obamacare. With me recovering from brain surgery, it did seem to be the best time to start shopping for insurance!

I used my new Epson tank color printer to scan my signed application for coverage (effective and backdated to 1 July 2024). I emailed the forms to Wageworks (now called HealthEquity), which is apparently running Nike’s Healthcare coverage purchases. I was distressed that my healthcare coverage lapsed while this process was running and then will be made effective without loss once I get these forms in and accepted.

I received my quarterly statement on Susie’s IRA, which is higher and doing well. This IRA uses the PAX fund (now IMPAX), which was the first socially responsible mutual fund. It was created by some Methodists in Washinton, D.C., to give folks a place to invest in small amounts and follow the Methodist Church’s traditions for not investing in guns or “sin” companies. It was also a balanced fund and included a mix of equities and bonds to reduce the risk (but often did not rise as fast as other funds and often did not fall as fast). The PAX was beat up by the double hit of the Great Recession that managed to crash bonds and equities prices at the same time. As it was in an IRA, we road out the pain, and now PAX has returned to the slow rise, and with socially responsible investing more popular, the rise is accelerating. I am tempted to roll over my 401K to PAX.

I managed to find time (but the blog was not finished until almost noon) to travel to Reedville Creek Park and walk four loops, with the last loop being hard to finish. I was late, and the sun was hot. The park was busy, with many folks walking or running the loop. I completed 4K steps.

One group was curious. A group of six Asian men was sitting on a bench (one was standing, as there was no room for all of them), all furious, tapping on their phones. They did not look up or talk to each other; they showed no emotions other than extreme attention to their phones. They would then rise as a group. Walk slowly on the loop, still looking only at their phones, and then sit at another bench with one guy standing. They would later rise and walk back to the previous bench, never stopping the tapping and only looking at their phones. I thought it was very Alice in Wonderland or The Matrix.

I rose later, around 8AM, and went slow with many interruptions.

And I will stop there as I am reaching my time limit. Thanks for reading!