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I rose about 8, as I had written the blog the night before. I found the last baked good I bought for breakfast, an almond croissant, and made coffee, liberal, in the French Press. I read the news and updated Quicken with the new transactions. I keep an eye on all the accounts (except for the 401K) by downloading transactions from all the accounts into Quicken. This gives me a clear-eyed view of my finances and allows me to immediately spot any hacks.

With some spare time, I got out the tiny brush, the Pycho, and painted the tiny coaling lids on SMS Derfflinger 1916 XF-19 Sky Grey. The paint was scraped from the etched brass pieces when I cut them from the fret and applied them to the deck. I always wash and use primer paint on etched brass parts, but often, the paint is scrapped when cutting and folding.

I clean up and dress and find a text from Misha. They are heading out. I was thinking 11, but they started sooner. I board Air Volvo and soon head to Portland’s Saturday Market. Traffic is light, but more than one would expect for a weekend. I soon cross NW Portland to Burnside Street to a small lot for paid parking (about $11 for the day) just across from Voodoo Donuts in Skidmore—a very sketching area at night.

Misha, Hope, and their daughters Anneliese and Lorelei were on a bus from the science center OMSI. They had parked the car there, as it was planned to be the last stop for the day. They had a flight back to Boston at 11 at PDX. I met them as they got off the bus at NW Burnside and NW 2nd Street.

The Saturday market was in full swing but smaller than the last time I saw it. The vendors are required to make the things they sell, but the definition of “make” is quite liberal (with T-shirts and art prints included). The freeze-dried candy became a must-have. I also bought the girls a stuffed animal mushroom and a laser-cut wood and glass light catcher. Hope found some new carrying bags made from hemp.

Deschutes Brewery Portland Public House was selected for lunch and rated well for no-gluten options. That meant walking back across the park again and right by Powell’s. We placed all the bags in Air Volvo to lighten the load before heading up the hill. While walking, we saw that there was a cycling race in Portland today. Bikes were on closed roads with barriers going very fast. A person we did not know spoke at one of the crosswalks about their recent release from a mental institute and how they would have a talking-to with someone. We made supportive noises and headed our way and they went another way.

At Deschutes, we were quickly given a table, but that was the end of ‘quick’ responses. Service was slow, with our waiter having too many tables and circling through them with what looked like great caution. While slow, the food was well received, and the adult beverages—I had a beer made from rice—were exceptional.

We walked through the park again to return to Air Volvo. I discovered that my phone was still at Deschutes Brewery Portland Public House. We boarded Air Volvo, squeezing in, and I soon parked in a space for trucks, ran in, and got my phone back. Excellent.

We then crossed NW Portland to bridges over the Willamette River and soon stopped at Guardian Games, only minutes from OMSI. We just did a quick walk-through and soon returned to Air Volvo and then to OMSI. We unloaded there, and I received a bounty of an unneeded car seat and some food items they no longer needed. We said our goodbyes, and the last I saw of Misha and their family was when they disappeared in OMSI as Air Volvo took me home. Later, I got a text that they were at the airport and at home in Boston on Sunday morning.

I was tired and rested for the rest of Saturday. I watched more of the Sandman episodes while eating leftover Chinese-style food I made. I reached the end of the series. While dark and strange, I really enjoyed it again (my third time watching it) and look forward to the series season two starting at the end of August.

I returned to SMS Derfflinger 1916 and started on the plastic parts. I removed the casement guns from the frets and located the replacement barrens in brass. Casement guns were leftovers from older ship designs (popular in the late 1800s) and disappeared soon in newer ships. The casements were placed near the deck level and pointed out of the side of a ship, often becoming unusable in moderate seas (the water floods them)–the barrels looking like straws to drink seawater. The Imperial German Navy was conservative and was slow to change to the newer designs, but built better armored and safer ships though slower and lighter armed than British designs. American designs from the early 1900s were between the two extremes.

It is always strange when you prepare so many parts, put a large part into the model, and move the model to another stage of the build. It seems that suddenly, after hours and hours of tiny parts, painting, and folding brass, you leap forward. Often, a model finishes before I realize that I am done.

I read more of The Orchid Thief and soon went to bed early after a shower. Before, I was nodding off watching the Sandman episodes, but when I tried to sleep in the chair, nothing happened. I closed my eyes and blinked, and it was two hours later, and proof of hydration was required. I went back to sleep and woke later after sunrise.

Aside: I read about orchids, and many growers have lost their plants to drought, poisoned plant food, and hurricanes. Whole lines of orchid hybrids were lost. I have started to see this in roses, as old roses and many miniature rose choices are disappearing from the market. Folks are buying them less often, and thus, there are fewer folks growing them. For example, the David Austin rose, Herbist, a wonderful plant, is not available anywhere (and my version is on its own roots).

Thanks for reading!

The morning started with the alarm, announcing at 6:30 that I had managed to roll over and get ten more minutes of sleep. I woke, like when I worked for a living and had a daily alarm, just before the alarm, and then rolled over and was shocked by the sudden alarm. It would be emotionally better to climb out of bed, but the blankets feel so good. I made liberal coffee, Equal Exchange, in my French Press. I had almond croissants from Paris Baguette Bakery in Beaverton. I used to get them in NYC, and l was thrilled when one opened in Cedar Hills Crossing.

My morning trip into Portland was in Rush Hour traffic, but I arrived with plenty of time with only a thirty-minute trip (+10 mins from no traffic travel). Air Volvo had no issues. I also spoke to TV Highway Automotive, and they have the part for Air Volvo (the fill flap is leaking air); I will be there Monday to get that fixed. As you, dear reader, can imagine, the Engine Check Light has now gone out now that we have a fix. I will get the now-working gas fill flag replaced on Monday.

I had written the blog the previous night and had an 8:15 doctor appointment with my oncologist. I took Air Volvo with just one cup of coffee consumed and headed to the OHSU Knight Cancer Center at Legacy in Portland. This is a check-in and lab appointment. United Healthcare, my insurance is still good from Nike, denied my doctor’s request for a CT scan to check that the cancer did not reappear. I wanted to check if we wanted to fight that (yes, we do) and that it is a normal practice (yes, it is) and ask doc to re-order the test (done). I will invest in fighting and, in the end, will pay for it myself (doc let me know to let him know as there are reduced cost providers). But the good news was that the labs and the specific tumor factor lab all showed improvements and no signs of new cancer. We will meet again in three months and hopefully have a CT scan to review this next time.

Air Volvo had me in the Pearl district next and parked in the garage. Since Friday is a work day, parking will be $21 for the day. I am an hour early, plus a little more before Powell’s City of Books opens. I am meeting Misha and his family there. Anneliese and Lorelei, the daughters, are looking forward to a large bookstore with mixes of new and used books (without sales tax). With spare time and a cool, slightly cloudy day, I walk to the Park on Park Street and get some steps in.

One of the street people sitting on a bench with a friend sees me and asks what kind of blood draw I did, “Plasma?” They sell blood and plasma and had thought me local as I was walking with a bandage on my arm. I told them about a cancer test, and we had a nice chat. They were happy that I passed my test. We exchanged health stories, and all survived cancer these past years. It was strange to be mistaken for a street person, but not many people are walking the street with bandages that are not street people.

I said many good mornings and received a surprising number of friendly replies, but only one offer to let me buy some mushrooms (I think that was what was offered). I demurred and kept walking. I put on 3,000+ steps and then headed back up the hill to the Pearl and Powell’s. Soon, Misha, Hope, Anneliese, and Lorelei arrived at the front door of Powell’s–walking as the bus was missed, which opened a few minutes later at 10. We arranged to reassemble at 11, and I had coffee at the cafe while they enjoyed finding used books and other treasures.

It was still too early for lunch, so we walked again past the park and into the sketchy part of Portland and the Chinese Garden. I bought the tickets because I had a membership with two entrances. We spent an hour or more wandering the garden. Hope, and I could have spent the afternoon enjoying it.

Next, we walked up the hill and through the part (again) and found food carts that did not fit the bill. Misha found more on his phone, and we walked another four blocks to those. There we had lunch. Chicken fingers for the girls, something gluten-free for Misha and Hope, and both went for India-styled food. After learning the code for the restrooms, used same, we returned to the same sketchy area. Sadly, Anneliese was too young for the underground tour, and Misha and she headed to the park (yes, again). Anneliese made new friends and enjoyed playing outside.

Hope, Lorelei, and I got the Shanghai Ghost tour under Old Town Pizza for the next ninety minutes, which, while strong in the story, was mostly touring disused basements and dodging plumbing. I can see that it is spooky and gloomy, and I suspect the old buildings (1880s) have many events (some captured on video and shared with us). I knew the original long tunnels were long gone (I recreated them in a role-playing adventure I wrote set in 1990 Portland), and these connected basements were all that survived. I cannot recommend the tours, but this might work for you if you like ghost stories and trudging through dark places with unlevel floors.

The Old Town Pizza owners found a nice piece of stained glass and put it in their basement (tunnels), where they have a bar set up. Our tour guide poured some beer for some of us. Hope and I had some; it was quite good. I skipped the free drink at the bar later, but seeing us still there, the tour guide showed us some related areas in the upstairs bar.

Next, walking to the park (yes, again), we found Misha and Anneliese, back to Powell’s (again), and some shopping. Misha and family found a spot in Powell’s to do a little video conference with a cousin who had a birthday back out East. It was too early for dinner, so we decided that Misha and their family would head back to the hotel (and across the Park again), rest, and find dinner later. I would head home.

Air Volvo encountered little traffic and no events. However, crossing Beaverton seemed to take forever, as every light seemed to stop Air Volvo. Finally, I arrived. My rack for the flower pots had been delivered and was outside the door. I am starting back on orchids and need a place to keep them. I have lights, trays, and now a rack for them.

I made Trader Joe’s frozen Chicken and Mushroom dinner for dinner. This requires defrosting everything in the microwave first. I also made fresh rice to go with it. It was delicious. While eating, I watched the next episode of Sandman. Episode six includes the introduction of a lovely woman, who we slowly learn is Death, and then we learn that Dream, the star of the show, and Death made a bet about a human. This is one of the best episodes, though quite sad when Death does her work.

I started to write the blog as I will not have time in the morning unless I rise early. I invited Corwin to enjoy my leftovers, and then we will head to a movie, Borderlands, based on a video game. I kept writing and finally finished (now). Thanks for reading. 13,000 steps for the day.

I was tired from all the driving and walking the day before, and I had no plans for the morning, so I rose late. I made liberal coffee from Equal Exchange and reheated a slice of pizza (olive and meatballs) from last night. I tried to get started, but I kept finding something else more interesting until after nine. I at least downloaded all the Quicken updates. The stock market has bounced back from the near crash. My Ford stock (F) was now higher.

I finally found the focus to write and even did multiple asides while telling the story of Wednesday’s trip to the coast and back. Misha and their family were at the Evergreen Water Park and Air History Museum today. I had decided not to overdo it and took the day slower at home.

The lights for my new orchids arrived today. The orchids are on their way to arrive on Monday. I assembled one set of LED lights, plugged them in, and tested them; they are bright and easy to use. The shelves should arrive tomorrow. Susie wanted me to return to growing orchids, but something always got in the way. Now that I have the time to care for the orchids, I invested some of my bonus money in supplies and flowers.

I reheated the pasta for lunch in the microwave. I watched episode 5 of Sandman. This is a disturbing and violent episode about crushing people’s dreams by making them only act on what is true. I still think it was well done, but it is hard to see a group of characters, some sympathetic, be destroyed with their dreams. It is a well-done episode.

After all that darkness, and knowing that Misha, Hope, Anneliese, and Lorelei would meet me at Sushi Mazi off of SE Division Street in Portland at about 6:30, I could do some shopping and walking. I headed to the Cedar Hills Crossing Mall to walk. It is primarily outdoor walking. It was overcast and about 70F (21C). I walked all over the new parts and stopped in a few shops. I also crossed Cedar Hills Street to the Walker strip mall and walked that, too, collecting just under 4,000 steps. I picked up breakfast for the next two days at Paris Baguette Bakery.

I drove to the older mall and Powell’s and looked for older Orchid books. I also found a cheap soap dish that matched the cheap toothbrush holder I got last time—perfect. I found a lovely, larger coffee table-sized orchid book that was used and under $20. Lastly, I found a used copy of The Orchid Thief that I meant to read, and it was also cheap. This got me over 4,000 steps.

I headed back to The Volvo Cave but then drove by, refueled, and stopped at the car wash. The Oregon Mist finally reappeared early this year, and I got Air Volvo washed in the rain. It is an Oregonian thing.

Back at the house, I did the dishes, read The Orchid Thief until 5:20, and then boarded an Air Volvo. Thursday is usually heavy traffic, and I did not reach the Sushi Mazi until 6 and then parked three blocks away. At least the rain had not reached Portland yet. I got a table for five just before the rush hit and filled the place. Only a few minutes later, Misha and family walked in. Misha ordered various rolls and sushi items. After checking with the waiter (she thought it was excellent), I had the sashimi salad with Miso Soup, a less carbohydrate meal that I ruined with a Kirin beer (from the smaller bottle). The meal was excellent.

We discussed it, and I ordered tickets for the Haunted Underground Shanghai Tunnel Tour at 2 on Friday (there is a beer tasting that we will likely skip). We were less sure about the ghost tour at 8 p.m. After that, Misha and I headed to the non-tourist Voodoo Donut location in SE. Misha will get some gluten-free donuts from a well-reviewed donut place in the morning. We will meet at Powel’s City of Books at about 10. I have an early doc meeting on Friday morning in NW Portland.

Air Volvo reached the Volvo Cave without issue, retracing its steps across the Ross Island Bridge. There, I unloaded, put out the trash (only one bag), invited the neighbors to use my trash container for any excess, and headed inside. I had some leftover chicken, as raw fish is not that filling. I watched another episode of Sandman but stopped it 1/2 way as I had to write the blog. I spent the rest of the evening writing.

And that takes me full circle. Thanks for reading. I reached just under 6,000 steps today.

Today, I met Susie’s nephew, Misha, with his wife, Hope, and daughters, Lorelei and Anneliese. Also, Z now has school soccer practice on Mondays and Wednesdays, so the days of game playing on Wednesday night are over. I also woke at 4:30 and rose before 6 as I could not get back to sleep. But this worked, and soon, I was having the last of the local ground and roasted coffee from Hillsboro, two peach halves from a jar, and a NYC bagel (thanks, Joyce) with cream cheese and writing about a quiet Tuesday. I was done before 8 and soon dressed.

I packed my overnight bag, meds, and a spare towel, as you never know when traveling to the coast if you will need to spend the night, an event will happen, or you will need a towel (all travelers who read Douglas Adams have a towel). Oregon is still quite new and wild; if you don’t respect it, it will kill you. We lose a few people every year to the ocean, getting lost, cars disappearing over an edge, and elk, beer, and other animals getting to unexpected places. I put my heavy coat in the cargo hold, but it is still too early (a month or two away) before traction devices (cloth sock-like covers for tires in Air Volvo case) must be carried. Air Volvo always has a toolbox and First Aid kit, and the board game Scythe is usually in the cargo hold in case of the need for gaming. Always Available!

I boarded Air Volvo, put on the navigation, and headed across Aloha to Sherwood. I was headed to Depot Bay as Misha and family were still south on the Oregon Coast. They had started on 101 in San Fransico and have driven up the West Coast. We had not set a meeting time, and I was happy to travel across Oregon Wine Country and then take the easy pass over the Coastal Mountains on Salmon River Highway.

There was plenty of gas, and the Engine Check Light was on as the gas flap was leaking air, but it was not dangerous and would not affect Air Volvo’s trip. Which was good, as this trip would drink 1/2 a tank and be about seven hours of driving there and back. I would only get 4500+ steps and somehow gain back five pounds (235), but the trip was a workout with the driving. Wednesday’s weather in Beaverton was overcast and cold. I was surprised to drive into the sunny and warm weather, with me only wearing my sweater in the morning on the coast (on the coast, the nights are cold with cold winds). That is why you will often see fires on the beaches at night with adult beverages and other biologicals being exchanged.

The trip, which I have recently taken one or two times a month, was familiar and was lovely, uneventful, and mostly already forgotten. There were lots of hay and hay trucks. It is approaching fall, and rain will come. Time to get the hay out. Air Volvo complained once about my handling of the car at the end of the trip, and I agreed with it; I needed a break. A polite bell rings thrice, and a coffee cup is displayed with a note that the driver must take a break. Soon I was out of the pass and the Pacific was visible. I stopped at my favorite state park and beach, D-River, in Lincoln City. It is a free park with a nice parking lot, a slightly run-down public bathroom, and a wonderful beach. It is always my first stop, and my first sand in my sand-in-my shoes walk. I try to find a crab shell or a pretty muscle shell to remember the trip.

I walked the beach as it was still early, not even noon, but the wind was comfortable and not even kite strength. I had a kite in the car, remembering it this time, but alas, the winds were weak. I walked the beach and soon walked about a football field to get to the wet sand. It was low tide, and also the King Tides were over until the winter. There I found a crab shell and some young people were picking up the jellies and playing with them, ick. Our waters are cold, and the deadly stuff is not usual on our beaches, unlike what you find on the East Coast and warmer areas. The waves break up the jellies, and only goey bits make it onshore. With my crab, now in the co-pilot seat and coving Air Volvo in Oregon beach sand, I headed south.

There are no events, and it is always a lovely drive. I resisted all the different Mo’s locations for West Coast-style clam chowder—a local chain that makes a decent soup. I reached Depot Bay and was happy to get a parking place looking out into the greater bay and Pacific. I looked out; the sea was calm, and sea kyaks were out in the low tide harvesting from the kelp forest. The last time I was here, there were some unusual high seas with the crashing on the sea wall, sending tourists running or soaked. Today was a perfect day to pay for a Whale Watching. I did that with Susie and Leta right after we moved here, and the memory was happy. Leta has a picture of a whale’s tail on her wall from one of these trips. It was a near-perfect day, and while I had time to take a boat, my balance issues and whether my loss of balance on the left side would make my seasickness better or worse would make it unwise to take a trip today. I will remain on the land. I looked out and saw no whales, taking time to let my eyes adjust to searching (it takes a while to get used to spotting the little dots and tiny spouts of distant whales).

I headed to the Sea Hag for an early lunch (breakfast was early for me). I was allowed to take one of two seats that could see the Pacific and ordered local (if Alaska and Washington’s waters are local) halibut and chips. These serve only three pieces for the price ($23), but all perfectly cooked (yes, I know about the worms as I am local) white fish, and the fries were OK but better with malt vinegar and some lemon. I was reading the news and looking out the window the whole time. The place fills up, and it takes a while for me to pay my bill.

It was time to head out and then reconnect with Misha and family (they were looking at the Sea Lions a few hours away) later. I stopped by and supplied Crabbie (the name for the shell) with saltwater taffy; yes, the crab ate those, not me. I got an extra bag for Z; I always bring her some.

I am just headed south and stopping by some viewpoints. The view is nice, but the boats are here. I watch for thirty minutes and see some dots, and the boats slowly move north towards us. Yes, there were four whales by the boats! I tell the various folks that come to stop and look where to look for the spouts. The whales slowly work north in the kelp forest, and the paid whale watcher gets an excellent view of some whales next to the boats.

Aside: My memory is that a boat can motor only so close and then float in the current. If the boat gets close, that is the whale’s choice, and the whales seem happy to see the crowd and the boats.

I watch the whales and then move back North to a larger park, Rocky Creek State Scenic Viewpoint. There, the whales (and boats) are soon only off the shore as the whales explore towards the north for dinner. These are grey whales. Generally, the orcas are further out, if at all, in our area. Our top predictor is the cold-loving Jaws, when the orcas are not around, that is, great white sharks with smaller 15-foot ones than usual here (yes, that is a small one). Sea lions and seals are plentiful, and so are great white sharks.

Aside: The water is freezing cold, and the sharks generally like their targets in deeper water. Our surfers often look like seals from deep down, and we have a shark incident every few years, often believed to be a mistake on the shark’s part. Sometimes, the shark only bites the surfboard for exciting moments, excellent photos of the results, and bragging rights for the surviving surfer!

I got out my shark kite and managed to fly it on the large grass area in the scenic viewpoint, but the winds were still unreliable, and the kite fell to the ground. It was still good to fly it, and I watched a few more whales before seeing that Misha and his family were headed north.

We met in Depot Bay and decided to stay on 101 (I forgot how crazy and slow it is between Depot Bay and Cannon Beach) and stop at the Wreck of the Peter Iredale in Fort Stephen Park, three hours away. To fortify, locally-made ice cream was acquired and consumed in Depot Bay. We then headed north, with Nav being ignored, leaving 101 for an alternative path into the mountains to gain some time (the view is not as good, and you can find unexpected issues in the mountains). The twisty drive had me slamming the brakes with Air Volvo, helping with a bell, extra braking, and locking the seatbelts when someone stopped unexpectedly. I managed to drive around the cars that also dived for safety rather than slam brakes and hope for the best.

I arrived a few minutes after Misha and family arrived, and the beach was cold and windy. The overcast skies and the cold water from the nearby glacier-fed Columbia make the area cold. I took a picture and we headed on to the nearby Astoria for pizza. I nearly went the wrong way and almost pulled in front of a car, but I managed to reach the pizza place a few minutes after Misha, Hope, Lorelei, and Anneliese found a seat and were looking at the menu.

We ordered too much pizza, as the sizes are about 20% larger than reported. I had an olive and meatball pizza that I only ate (I have lots left), while Misha had a gluten-free pizza. We chatted, but the night was here, and we had hours yet to drive and said our temporary goodbyes. I will not join them for the trip to Evergreen on Thursday, but I will be available as needed.

Misha and I headed down the Columbia River on Highway 30, coming down the 7% incline to an incredible night view of Longview, Washington—looking more like some lighted space station in the darkened skies than a riverport. We then took the bridge and drove through Longview to Highway 5. The Columbia River dives south here, and Portland is thirty miles south-southeast from here. We take Highway 5, which follows the river to Portland. Misha finds their hotel while I continue to cross Portland over all the bridges (having crossed many in the dark in Washington). I managed to reach The Volvo Cave intact with my recently acquired crab shell unbroken but definitely shaken once by 10:20. I unloaded the car and was soon ready for some rest.

I finished The Last of Mr. Norris, set in 1930s Berlin, just a few pages. The end was abrupt as the Nazi takeover seemed to end the parties and the mad-cap feeling of post-WW1 Berlin. The Call of Cthulhu role-playing game has a book, The Wickedest City, about 1920s Berlin, adding cultists and H.P. Lovecraft-style events and dangers. Having read this short book (and the history of New Orleans Smallville), it is an interesting change in the world.

I showered, changed into my PJs, got under the covers, and soon fell asleep. I slept in.

I slowly ramped up on Tuesday. I remember that in the series Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe, Arthur Dent admits he could never figure Thursday: see here. I am finding Tuesday to be like that for me. I just can’t seem to transition to the work week. I am always starting late on Tuesdays and writing all morning on Tuesdays. I was up late and did not start serious writing until after 9. I found the last banana and a NYC bagel with cream cheese worked for breakfast with locally roasted and ground coffee made in my French press. I wrote all morning. I also read the news, mostly political but with strange, happy notes about the economy and all happy news for us liberals. My Quicken updates took longer; Tuesday seems to have accumulated the changes for the weekend and Monday.

I was not done until about 11 and then showered, shaved, and so on. By noon, I was dressed and ready for the rest of Tuesday. My lawn service started to make noise with leaf blowers and mowers. One of the folks was trimming a holy bush that Glenda tried to kill years ago. We exchanged some words, including Muerte, and the bush is finally gone. Until I stepped on a few holy bush leaves, I liked them. Ouch! 

Our weather is cool and dry with overcast skies, and we Oregonians are happy and all but dancing. The morning smelled of the sea, and the smoke drove back to the east again. No more being bleached by the California Sun! Maybe it will rain soon! That would make our week!

I got out a jar of pasta sauce, something I had not used before, Trader Joe’s Bolognese Style: Tomato and Beef Pasta Sauce. I found a pound of good ground beef in the freezer and used the LG microwave to defrost it (without cooking it in the microwave). I boiled water and heated the sauce in a pan, got out a non-stick frying pan (thanks, Steve), and was ready to make a heavy lunch. I found some mushrooms, also from Trader Joe’s and also in the freezer, and added them to the ground beef. I got the beef to start getting brownish, and the mushrooms added a bit more beef-like flavor. I then carefully poured the sauce into the frying pan and stirred and cooked it on low heat. I undercooked the rigatoni pasta. Which always sounds like an opera to me, which was perfect for this meal: here.

I might have had three bowls. I called Corwin and invited him, who is just over Covid, to enjoy a free meal. He was there about 3, and he chatted for a while until 4ish. The day already vanishing for me. I headed to Big River Coffee in Air Volvo. There, I wrote up some events at our church involving why we have elected to have opioid overdose drugs and training. I shared a first draft and then headed home.

Instead of reheating some pasta, I wanted fried chicken (which I don’t cook because of the mess) and got a spicy meal at Popeye’s. I had one piece of chicken (I could not eat more), mashed potatoes, and a little pie (I received that for giving $1 to Popeye’s Fund to help people). While eating, I watched another episode of last year’s episodes for Sandman, episode four. This is one of the best episodes, with Dream having to fight a battle of wits with Lucifer Morningstar and setting up for the darkest episode, number five. I was not ready to do five again.

It is still bright outside. I walk my long walk to the creek and back, getting my count up to 3,500+ steps for the day. My left foot complains some, but I am not winded, and my back pain is not bad. Many folks are out walking in the cool overcast day.

Back inside, I returned to SMS Derrflinger 1916 and continued with the near-impossible task of putting pinhead-sized coal lids on the model’s main decks. This time, I only lost one when I cut it, and it disappeared when it flipped away. I am getting better and can balance the one-millimeter circle of etched brass on the scalpel, place it on the glue on the deck, and move it into the circle where it goes. I take a stressful thirty minutes of putting on all the rest on the main deck. Another bunch of coal lids go on the higher deck, but I have yet to mount that as I have to replace gun barrels and mount the guns first. I am happy to let the glue dry.

I return to reading and Berlin in the 1930s after a shower, The Last of Mr. Norris. In the story I am reading, which seems so real, the drunken parties in Berlin are now revealed to be spies spying on spies and passing on false information. Everyone is a communist or a sympathizer or at least professes that alignment in the author’s Berlin. I tried to finish and read until late but still did not finish. At the end of the story, the Nazi takeover has happened now. The leader of the communists has been murdered, and others are on the run or imprisoned, starved, and beaten. The teller of the story notes how different his street now looks, decorated in red, white, and black. Fear is constant. Christopher Isherwood’s story is strange, and his storyteller is somewhat cruel in his depictions, but it is still excellent once it gets going.

I soon fell asleep, waking twice to prove hydration and then up at 5:30 because I was cold even in a 71F house.

Thanks for reading!