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It is hard to get started this Saturday morning as I actually slept until 7ish. I woke at 3AM to prove hydration and then rolled over a few times, but this time I actually slept. Unfortunately, this reduction of jetlag may be attributed to a cold. I keep trying to say it is allergies, but my friends warn me to rest and accept (cough, cough) that I may have a cold and need to slow down. Ugh!

Returning to yesterday’s narrative, I rose at 4ish and watched the dark turn to light as I wrote another longish blog about what was mostly a mundane day. There is some comfort in recalling a day of cleaning and friends. The dental work on Thursday (a slightly intense cleaning) has left me with no issues; yay! The weather has gone full on California. We are looking at the sun and ninety. Air Volvo registered 104F (40C) at one time, which is wildly inaccurate (it measures the temperature next to some metal that is obviously in the sun–my previous Volvo got this right by measuring only the air temperature).

I saw my pine tree smoke with pollen, and the trees and other plants were in full pollen mode. I can see the yellow sprinkles on Air Volvo. Again, I’m not sure I have a cold. As it is Mother’s Day week, we did one more f**king frost, so our temperatures ranged from the 30s to the 90s—a desert climate.  There is no rain in the forecast. This is a month early from the last couple of war years and two months early from the 1990s-2000s wet weather.

I had a pastry and Columbian coffee (thanks, Kramers) while I wrote the blog. I was time-boxed as I had a final 8:30 meeting at Nike. I had to return Nike assets, including my badge, for twenty-seven years. I was happy to give back the iPhone and the laptop, but the badge represented so much more.

I finished the blog, cleaned up, dressed, and headed to Nike WHQ in the usual morning traffic. Of course, it was a familiar drive to me, but this time, I was headed to a different area. This was a strange drive-thru experience.

Empty space. Hmmm.

I stopped at the first group. Dressed in black with swooshes, looking like hired muscle security for a disco, the first group took my name, checked I was on the list, eyed me carefully, told me to stay in my vehicle, and then (called on a walky-talky that ‘Michael Wild’ coming. I drove slowly and followed the path set by cones. I was expecting Nike’s version of SWAT next. Nope, just nervous HR people. The next person directed me to another group under tents. I drove under the tent. I was smiling and thanked the people for doing the job and told them, “I know it sucks; thanks for doing this.” That got a lot of relieved smiles.

When I surrendered my badge, it hurt. The laptop and iPhone were equipment I could care less about, but the badge said I was part of the team. It really felt sad to give it away forever. Later, I took a picture of where the laptop used to sit on my desk; the space was empty, waiting for me to log back in and have yet-another-Zoom-Nike-status-meeting. I am gone from the shoe company; it will take a while for the grief to become just a memory.

I don’t remember the drive back. I was soon trying to clean my shower. I was scrubbing hard, and the ick refused to release. I managed to make a dent in the shower. I cleaned the toilet using other processes. Unsatisfied and slightly covered in ineffective cleaners, I headed to Safeway and acquired more supplies. That seemed to help some. I ordered new shower curtains instead of cleaning them. They are $10 each (I got one for the other bathroom) and will look better than trying to clean the old ones.

With some progress and purchases, I declared a tactical victory (I had tried and reinforced my position) in the bathroom, cleaned up a bit, and headed to lunch. Bombay ChaatHosue at the Aloha Carts was my target. I arrived there and, it being Friday lunchtime, we were busy. I had forgotten to put out the trash even with me up at 4. I forgot it was Friday, and I was more focused on the tasks. I missed the lawn waste pickup.

I waited for my order there, and a gal introduced herself with a JW.ORG business card. I am familiar with the Jehovah’s Witnesses and was polite. She spoke in a very soft voice on my left not-hearing side, and it was hard for me to understand her. She was trying to get my interest, but I was not biting, and she heard about Methodists from me (the best defense is to talk about how nice your church/religion is). She did them complain that, being from the East Coast, did not quite understand folks in the Pacific Northwest and their lack of enthusiasm for her message. I told her the PNW is different, and folks are more tight here as this used to be the wilderness and logging. It is more important to help each other than to share doctrine (I used kinder words). I asked her, very politely, to enjoy her lunch, and she and her group went back to lunch.

I am never offended by people trying to save me.

I ate my three different veggie curries and naan. It was already warm, and the hot chai was a mistake, but it was so good. Also, adding the hot sauce to the veggies did not improve my perceived temperature! It was an excellent lunch, even with a JW moment.

I picked up my Best Buy gift cards. When I bought the new appliances, I scored $150 in gifts. It’s time to reinvest. Since I am retired, I have no plans, so I just headed there. I had trouble finding the data cable, and they had to call an expert who managed to sell me a useless $20 USB-C cable. I could have gone to Walgreens and got the wrong cable! F**k. I get an official Apple power plug with a USB-C connector for my trip. While more expensive, theirs usually work. To that point, Apple’s expensive data cable was not available at Best Buy. I should have known better!

I returned in Air Volvo to the Volvo Cave to discover the new cable, while powering my backup drive, would not allow for it to mount. So the diagnosis was that either the backup device died last week or the new cable is crap that only works for charging and connecting Windows devices. Found the short USB I used before. Device mounts. Backups happen. F**king worthless USB-C cable. I can use it to charge my battery, so I will keep it.

David and Michelle Smith want to visit about 5:30-6, which means 7 or maybe 7:30. I clean and pick up various items. I clean the toilet in the other bathroom. Corwin appears and vacuums the carpet. He will mop soon. He needs to move out of the spare bedroom soon.

I set the deck furniture in the grass in the shade; it is 80-90F (26C+). I make iced tea from the remaining Irish Breakfast tea (more is coming) and have Lime tea cookies and iced tea sitting outside at my small table. The surface is uneven, and I manage to dump the iced tea on myself (not my laptop) and finally change my pants. We also use The Machine to clean the sleeping bags; one Susie used at summer camps and one Corwin has. Corwin finishes the dishes and cleans the counters later.

I read, surfed the internet, and edited some Howard stories. Grammarly AI is trying to flatten my wording to better fit its clarity model, and I have to undo its changes. I like my words better. This is a new issue. Grammarly is advertising this AI writing, and I can see its appeal—instant, correct, clear writing—but I like my words better—less clear (maybe) and more interesting.

The Smiths are having some car work done, and it runs late. So we replan, and I meet them by an Indian place that closes an hour early now (despite what their website and sign say). We then try a nearby place. They have a problem in the kitchen. Our food arrives an hour late, and it is not great. It is also dark. I cannot see my food.

While waiting, I told many stories about Morocco and remembered my earlier trip to New Orleans. I had not seen The Smiths (David and Michelle together) in a while, so I managed to fill the time by playing videos on my phone about Morocco.

David and Michelle, David’s treat tonight, met me at the house. They picked a huge container, David Austin, of white roses for me to plant. I now have two to plant this weekend. I have no white roses. David and Michelle also prayed with me for my upcoming surgery in the backyard under the apple tree under the stars.

I pointed out that Susie’s tree is back. I thought the summer burned it up, but it is green again. It is a redwood fur that changes needle colors in the winter. The manager of the park next to the hummingbird house gave Susie and me a small tree that they would have to throw away to plant. I am so happy that it is still trying to make it. I have a metal frame (usually used for tomatoes and like plants) over it to protect it. Someday, there could be a small redwood in the backyard, Susie’s tree.

It was a struggle to drive home, and I was fading fast. David and Michelle soon headed out. Staggeringly tired, I showered and went to bed and read only a few more articles before my eyes could not stay open. I subscribe to Stratfy & Tactics Quarterly, and the summer issue is “Alternative Strategies for World War I,” which summarizes the war year by year and front by front. The writer, Tyrone Bomba, a historical war gamer designer, presents options and thoughts about the options not taken. It is a very constructive approach, as you would expect from a game maker, and I find it fascinating. Mr. Bomba believes the Germans almost won in 1914 and could have won had they moved a few resources to the extreme west of the western front (still supporting the famous Schlieffen plan), but he is unsure that the logistics would have supported the change. He is clear that the adherence to a failing plan in 1914 (on both sides) and dumping resources into a failed plan to hope for a breakthrough is not strategy but hubris.

I then slept better Friday night, as I said. I canceled my Saturday gaming to rest, and I will write and enjoy the sun.

And then some garden updates…

One time blooming Cardinal Richelieu. Ready to start.

China Rose always blooming and always first and last to flower.

 

Pink Moss shows its flowers and also shows some stress from the wet winter or pesticide/herbicide leakage into groundwater.

David Austin’s most excellent rose (impossible to get) is The Herbalist. It is my best plant.

Thanks for reading!

I woke at about 4 and was wide awake. I tried to roll over and fall back to sleep, but my nose was running, and I was coughing a lot. I have either a cold, which is possible, or am reacting to something in the air, which is more likely. I rose and started on the blog in my home office. Looking out the window, it was still dark outside and frosty (we had a frost warning). We are in our desert climate early this year with cold, cloudless nights and hot, dry afternoons. For my first twenty years or more, May was a wet and messy month with floods and mudslides. I have never seen this kind of day in May until the last two years. So strange and yet so welcome; we feel a tiny bit guilty as the world faces too hot of weather while we get to play in our lawns and gardens and not be soaked.

I was timed blocked as I had my first dental cleaning appointment since the pandemic. Sorry for the cringing, but with Susie’s illness, COVID-19, and my cancer, it just did not seem like the time to have my teeth scraped. I had no issues while I delayed care for years. Just lucky, I think.

So, I wrote slowly but with a time limit. I also ran my connections to Quicken, which updates all my active accounts. I update this every day and review every f**king transaction. No hacker is getting my money! I also have good books for the IRS and Oregon State should they ever become interested in me. I have paper records, as that is what auditors and governments want. I punch holes in everything and put it in a binder. It’s old school, but it keeps me safe and provides clarity to me on my finances. I only have an AMEX for credit cards, but I did apply for an Alaska Air card, so ‘retired’ might be an issue. I pay AMEX off, as is the usual tradition with this card, every month.

Aside: I planned to retire around 55, and doing so meant that I had good control of my finances (and health). And while these plans faltered from events, I still had the license for Quicken, and once I was facing financial stress and fascinating (to me) tax complexity, I decided to add the task to my life of daily monitoring Susie and my finances and Quicken was nearly perfect for this. Refinancings, borrowing from my 401K, life insurance payments, and huge tax refunds from casualties made it all a good plan. I also hired a lawyer and a CPA. So far, only the IRS forms and my CPA has needed this information.

I completed the blog and various paperwork items. I ordered the solo book war games by Worthington: Bismarck, Waterloo, and Gettysburg. I suspect I will have time to use them on planes and will make them available for people waiting for me. I’m not sure Linda (my sister) or Dondrea wants to get out a pencil and some 6-sided dice to refight the British WW2 Navy, put on a grey cap, and see if they can take Cemetary Ridge or go French. These are a new type of game that has you write in the book and designed to let you make the important decisions instead of moving hundreds of pieces of paper on a board. They are highly recommended, especially the WW2 navy-based game Bismarck.

I can imagine being woken by Linda, Z, or Dondrea after the surgery. “How do you feel…but should I avoid the battle with Hood…should I take in more reserves…should I do this like Bobby Lee?” will be the questions. I would be so happy to not focus on my feelings after having a hole drilled in my head and not notice where all the hoses are connected to me. “Hell, sink the Hood!” I would shout after waking.

The dentist’s office is a few minutes away, and you could walk there, but I think it is better to drive back. The dentist is on vacation, so today, I only got the dental hygienist. We take x-rays, which she messes up a few times, and I get extra radiation this morning—oh my! My new dental hygienist used to do military in Europe, and she, I have things in my mouth, mostly talks about her trips. She is sorry she never did Morocco; during breaks, I tell her Morocco was worth visiting, splitting your visit between a few cities. While not heavy-handed, my teeth need extra work, but she is happy to report that it is not that bad, and my gums look good. And while she is not the dentist, the x-rays show no emergencies that need to be treated. I was not a fan of the ultrasonic thingee, and she did get my attention once. “That woke you up” was her neutral and military-like response. “I will turn that down,” was her answer. No issues, and while she recommends some painkillers, only Tylenol is allowed again. I took two before the process, which impressed her. I was fine.

At the house, I moved the laptop to the kitchen and started playing videos on YouTube, mostly 80s and 90s. This made me sing along and dance while cleaning the freezer and ice maker. The icemaker had been sitting outside and needed extra care. Moss, leaves, and other ick had accumulated. It took a workout to clean it in hot, soapy water. I had to get some paper towels into its guts to remove some of the ick.

I removed the drawer and the shelves in the door as they were messy. Freezers don’t usually get too messy. Melted ice cream was everywhere. I had to heat water to melt the goo at the bottom of the freezer. The shelves were thrown in hot, soapy water in the sink. The freezer door is also the shelf bottom and was covered with refrozen sticky stuff. I covered the floor with towels and soaked the surfaces in hot, soapy water. That and lots of scrubbing fix everything. I collected the peas, corn, and beans that were loose and dried everything with the towel before reassembling.

I then went through what was in the freezer and tossed anything old, ruined (mostly ice cream for Susie), and obviously beyond its end-of-life. I hauled another bag to the trash. I was startled a little later when the first load of ice fell in the ice maker!

I continued on with a mundane morning with laundry and dishes. Sorry if this sounds boring, but it is the first time I have had the freedom to get to these tasks. It feels so good to get to them.

Lunch, still a few hours away, requires planning. I plan to make the messy pasta dish from the NY Times again for lunch. I put out the spicey Italian-style sausage to defrost. Air Volvo, after I go back to get my phone, heads out to Trader Joe’s. I forget the recipe in Air Volvo, but I manage to remember what I need. I also decided to refill the freezer and get various excellent easy to prepared foods for the freezer, including their excellent naan. Oh, they have our favorites today. Soon, my small cart is filling. I resist the excellent meats and wines. I did not put all this weight by eating crap. Resist!

I put my bounty away after escaping Trader Joe’s for under $200 and start the two-hour process and ritual to summon a messy pasta dish to delicious and spice existence. “Hell, yes!” as I began to brown the sausage, I added lots of garlic (the recipe was more specific, as you can imagine), much oregano, and a pile of fennel seeds beaten with the back of a knife used like a hammer (I still don’t have a kitchen device for that–how is that possible). Again, the recipe had more specific expectations. Trader Joe’s sells excellent Italy-sourced whole tomatoes, peeled, in a can, and those go in the pan. As instructed, I break up those with my spoon. Next, crushed tomatoes, 1/2 a can, but I have fire-roasted (my favorite) again from Italy. Bay leaves, salt, and lots of stirring get us to a spicy, bright meat sauce. The recipe and I are not looking for slow-cooked subtleties but a punch.

I drift from the recipe as I get out a glass pan, add 3/4 of a pound of dry bow-tie pasta (to be American), and then pour the now-cooked content of the pan over the pasta. I mixed in 1/3 of good mozzarella cheese torn by me (not the plastic-like shredded for pizzas) and then added hot water. I then sprinkle the cheese on top and spoon on some ricotta cheese on top (I need to double this next time as the surface area is twice now). I have turned on oven number two in the new The Stove, and soon lunch, bright, cheesy, and spicy, is finishing. I chop up some fresh basil and sprinkle on top. I have two bowls and another late for a snack (skipping dinner).

I am running out of time…let me be brief.

I took a nap. I was woken by a text from Dondrea asking me if I was joining the Theology Pub tonight. I was dead asleep and would have likely woken the next day. I climbed out of the bed that seemed to want to hug me, stumbled to the office, and managed to reconnect with Dondrea on a Zoom meeting.

Today’s topic is Respect from a Christian perspective. We often mix freedom of speech and respect in the USA. Folks can and do say outrageous things, but does that mean they should be disrespected. Hmm. We concluded that Christians need to provide respect to others, but when things are plainly wrong like Jesus driving out the money changers, we need to act, and that may be perceived as not being respectful. Also, the USA is a country of laws and not privileges, which means there are limits to speech and other perceived rights to provide justice. Folks seem to forget that we are a country of laws first. We also discussed the ancient concept of a philosopher king ruling and how even Plato thought it would not work. I recalled that a comedy playwright who was mocked in one of Plato’s dialogues ended his greatest comedy with the gods giving a dead playwright a rope to hang the corrupt leaders in Athens and sending the poet back alive to deal with the mess. Maybe we need more angry poets who are respected and loved by the gods and the people. Respect is important.

After this, I soaked my foot in Epson salts, which helped. I went to bed and ran out of time to write. There at the end of the day, perfect!

Thanks for reading.

And our theme song for the blog: Think!.

I started Wednesday by trying to sleep, then having terrible cramps in my left foot and dealing with the large skin break on the big toe of the same foot. I started my Wednesday in the in-home office writing the blog. I was not time-boxed, so the blog was a bit long.

While writing the blog, I had liberal coffee from Columbia, a gift from the Kramers (thanks!) that was delivered while I was in Morocco. While I wrote and had low-sugar instant oatmeal from packets doctored with some walnuts, I drank the liberal coffee. Excellent to start at 5. I watched the sunrise while I wrote.

I always find it overwhelming when something you have been waiting for, like my surgery, finally arrives, and all the planning starts to execute. There are only ten days left and less for Susie’s Concert in Michigan. It feels so strange that the events are beginning after so many months of planning and waiting.

For those who wish to follow along during my surgery, we will be updating a Google Doc here on my status: Michael’s Status. Currently, it contains my flight information for traveling to Michigan next Wednesday.

And here is a reminder about Susie’s Concert in Michigan.

Changing focus, in many role-playing games (RPG), we have a term for non-magical and run-of-the-mill stuff like flour, rope, or clothing: mundane items. Today was a mundane day as I was on my third day of what feels like my retirement and had some things that were not interesting to do.

I cleaned the refrigerator but not the freezer, the first mundane task. I also removed two trash containers of glass and other items that had long past their recommended use dates and some repeats. The frig smelled of something sweet and bright, which I learned was rice-wine vinegar that had solidified in a few places. I removed all the shelves–some had to be disassembled with connecting drawers–washed them in hot soaping water and stacked them. I put the surviving items on the stove and counters. I thought I would do the doors secondary to the shelves, but the door shelves fell out when I bumped them while cleaning the inside. Those were thrown in hot, soapy water and washed.

The main shelves are glass, and I managed not to break anything (it is extra hard glass). After putting the first shelves backward and trying to put the wrong drawer in, I remembered how to reassemble everything. I put the items back in before anything got warm. I will do the freezer on Thursday and thus let the frig recool first.

I am now dressed, as I did not see any reason not to wash my PJs and robe after this cleaning. Next, Air Volvo took me to Safeway, our nearest grocery store, and I spent just under $300. This was the next mundane task. I was angered that the $9.99 a pound roast beef manager special was still charged at $15 a pound when I got home, but I did not check when I got the pile of sliced beef. I was mad at myself for not checking. Total fail at retired shopping. I bought extra to cover Corwin; my grocery bill would be much less if it was just me and not having a weight lifter in the house. But Corwin is welcome.

Next time, I will try Winco to get better prices. I need to get this retirement gig going. I have time to shop and find better prices. Next time!

It was a lot of stuff to put away; not all the bags fit in the cart. The frig smelled better, and there was more room now that it was liberally stocked (yes, even the frig is liberal in this house). Next, I put Corwin’s laundry in The Machine and ran the dishwasher with just a few items (just to get rid of the smell from the discoveries in the frig). I then assembled the final box for Susie’s Concert. I found her fur hat, passports, original Michigan driver’s license, Ben’s flag (from Susie’s father’s military burial), and a few small items. The box was too big, but I had some packing stuff and just sealed it up. I loaded it into Air Volvo after addressing it to Barb’s house (Susie’s sister) and soon paid to have it delivered next week (about Monday) in Michigan. Another mundane task was done; check.

I used the surprisingly full-priced roast beef in a sandwich. The beef is on thin cheddar slices, Thousand Island dressing is on the bread, and coleslaw is between the cheese and bread (with the dressing). I could only eat half. I wrapped the remains for lunch on Thursday. I stripped my bed and started that in The Machine (it does both washing and drying).

I was tired and rested, so I read the latest Analog Magazine, starting with the first long story. It is not as good as I hoped so far. It may hit too close as it is about a recently retired IT professional trying to start a business in a small town that they just moved to. Yes, that might hit too close. I will keep reading later.

I headed across Beaverton in Air Volvo (after turning around and getting my phone) to pick up Z, as Dondrea was working late. I texted Z, following Generation Z communication protocols (not calling), that I was on my way. I was still five minutes early and texted I was there (not calling, blowing the Volvo horn, or coming to the door). Z and I were at the church after 6 and had to call Dondrea to figure out that we were using a key, not an electronic tag, to open the door. Funny!

We left the door unlocked, and a few AA visitors needed redirection, but other than that, it worked. We decided on the board game, our new favorite, Wyrmspan. This is like the popular board game Wingspan but reworked to use dragons and run smoother. Z would say I was ridiculously lucky in the first game as everything I had interlocked, and I won by fifteen points. Also, Z had to remember how to play, as it had been a few weeks. I have played about twice the number of games Z has played, so I manage the combinations better.

Shawn stepped in as a third player for the second game and was replaced by Andrew when the choir finished, and Praise Band practice started (Shawn plays in the band). Andrew, who has played Windspan, took no time learning the new game and started on round two. Z was bubbling (Z is 13) with energy as combinations started to work in Z’s play. Z had so many coins Z left some for the next round. We managed to finish as the Praise Band was packing up. Z shouted with delight, outscoring me by one point at 83. Shawn/Andrew had a good score in the fifties. Z danced. It was an impressive score.

I was falling asleep, and Andrew (who was back from Italy last week with Ashley; they were just married by Dondrea) looked subdued. Dondrea had me text her when I arrived safely via Air Volvo at the Volvo Cave. I made the bed and put on clean PJs after showering. My toe is not improved–damn. I will be more careful on Thursday.

I slept and only woke once, and then it was 4, and I decided to start watching the sunrise on Thursday. I love to do that now that I am retired. Yes, I am going to be that old fart up at 4ish.

Here is the theme music for cleaning a frig (I was dancing and cleaning to 80s and 90s rock): Cleaning song

Thanks for reading!

I slept until 5AM without waking over and over—better. I’m not sure I mind waking at 5 and watching the sunrise as I write the blog. I did shower and go to bed early, but I rose and watched some of the Best of The H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival 2022 DVD. This is the COVID-19 one that was much reduced and masked. I won the best microfiction that year. After that, I went to sleep and woke once when it was 11 and then not again, except to prove hydration.

But let’s return to Tuesday and explore what happened on the day of mixed weather. I could not sleep, so I woke over and over and finally rose just before 5. I sat down and started the blog; it was too early for breakfast, so I wrote it. This was interrupted a few times, but as I am retired, I did not care.

I looked for breakfast food and found the steel-cut oats. I cooked them, nearly burning them when I got busy writing. I poured water on the back of the pan before stirring and used a fork to detach the stuck bits. There were no problems other than it was a bit chewy as it was not entirely cooked, but I liked it.

I found the brown sugar still with some ants inside. Puke. They were long dead, at least, but still, ick! Trashed. Instead, I poured molasses and sugar into my bowl with some walnut pieces. Excellent. If maybe there were a bit too many molasses, I like molasses. I continued to write and go slow. The coughing is worse today, and my chest feels rough as if I have a cold. Ugh! But I know the cough, not the lungs, is the issue. I treat it all day, and it slows. I make enough for two, pack it in glassware (thanks, Glenda and Gene), and leave it for Corwin. He finds it later.

I step out to see the roses, having spotted some pink out there. Here is my old bourbon rose, Souvenir du Président Lincoln, ready to bloom. It is showing some black spots, and the aphids are enjoying it, causing the blooms to twist a bit. It is on its own roots and is thriving in the wet. I am surprised to see it blooming second to the China rose. I was worried the heat would damage it, but it looks happy. If I wanted it to be happier, I would need to spray it with an insecticide, cut away the damaged leaves, and spray with an anti-fungus. These toxins are not very nice in a damp location, so the bourbon rose will have to fight its way through it.

I continued to write and finish the blog in the morning, seeing that it was my usual start time of 8 at the Nike WHQ, and smiled. I am still getting used to the idea that I have no responsibilities at Nike, and once in a while, thinking about how to improve something or how something works in Nike’s systems. I then stop, realign to my new “your responsibilities end” statement from the VP at Nike, and think about something else. It is still hard to internalize that I am no longer part of the team after twenty-seven years.

After I posted on LinkedIn that I was retired by layoff, the word is out. I am receiving positive comments and even some suggestions to return to work for various consulting gigs. I have not yet decided to use LinkedIn as my Facebook for corporate stuff. I am still trying to get used to being retired, or at least not Nike IT.

I did order some Moroccan mint tea. Dondrea was scandalized that the mint tea from Morocco uses tea and has caffeine, which explains my repeated orders for it while fighting jetlag in Morrocco! It is not the polite American herb tea.

I added my other Upton Tea Company favorites to the order: Russian Caravan and Baker Street Afternoon Blend, which reminds me of Holmes. I like their Irish Breakfast Tea, but I have plenty still. I recommend this website, which is where my tea comes from.

Returning to the narrations (it is so easy to go sideways when you do not have time limits), I then started on a task that I could not believe was finally here. I put together all the papers for Dondrea (who holds my power-of-attorney and medical decision rights if I cannot decide) and Matt V (my executor for my will). Going with Si vis pacem, para bellum (from John Wick, not a classical education), which I will rephrase: Want life, then prepare for illness and death. Thus, all my accounts and papers are now in a leather briefcase to be handed to Dondrea (hopefully not Matt V).

I close out April 2024 with all the expenses for my unplanned trip to Morocco and a carpet. I check every month’s transactions and make corrections. I then get the balances for my 401K and deferred compensation (still unpaid in a lump sum) and correct the Net Worth report. I put a copy of that, now accurate to 30th April, in the papers in the briefcase.

My exit agreement with Nike (all the $$$$) will appear next week. I have to sign it and return it to them (electronic signature). The dates match my trip to Michigan, so I will watch for it. It is very important to get it back to the shoe company before my surgery. It has a time limit, and my death, without signing, would cancel the agreement, leaving my estate empty-handed (my life insurance ended on my separation date in April). More para bellum stuff. I have been granted, already, an extra month to sign it.

While I was doing all this depressing paperwork (including some more instructions for Matt V that I hope he never sees), I was defrosting and then boiling some skinless and boneless chicken thighs. I cut up the chicken, putting 1/2 away for another dish, and made, of all things, Rice-a-Roni stir-fry flavor. I have not made this for years, and it was cheap. In the water I used to boil the chicken, I added a handful of already cooked shrimp (cleaned and only have tails) from the freezer (I buy a bag for various times–it’s always fun to add some shrimp to something). I followed directions and created sort of a stir-fry with chicken and shrimp, and I had two bowls. Better than I expected. Hmm. I need to fry the chicken with the rice and add some veggies to make it excellent. Fun!

I took Air Volvo to my post office and confused a person there. They could not find my mail, which was on hold. On returning home, my mail carrier brought me all my mail, including various packages. This included a package from Providence with the special surgery soap, shower mitten, and instructions. I tried to cancel the bottle I ordered from Amazon. Nope. I will have plenty. I will suggest a correction to the instructions from the surgeon that Providence will send the soap.

I am a bit dizzy and coughing, so I decided to rest. I also started my subscription to Analog magazine and have my first one. The stories, especially the first essay, are always a learning experience. How do people write this way? How can I ever hope to equal that? I managed 1/4 of the first essay before nodding off. I have trouble sleeping, and then, suddenly, I awaken, and it is 5:15. How the f**k did that happen! Hate jetlag!

While cool, the rains are gone, and the sky is blue. We don’t see that in May. So we sit at a picnic table outside. I find Dondrea and Z at the Beaverton Carts.

I have a business meeting with Dondrea to cover the briefcase and discuss the events of my surgery on 20 May. We also try a new Chilean cart. The noodle place we loved, sadly, was gone. About one-third of the spaces are empty, with some favorite carts now just a memory and an empty space. Still, our food is heavy and delicious, made into a burger structure. Z is put off by the mayo but accepts it as a structure to the giant sandwich. Excellent! We love this new option.

We talk about the boring stuff. We cover my assets, beneficiaries, location of the will, power of attorney, and Oregon papers that assign Dondrea as my decider (with my sister as backup). Z is doing her homework and is not happy to be talking about death and injury (she is 13), but she accepts that it is best to be prepared, and thus, much trouble can be avoided by preparing.

Aside: I have a document with every important financial account, including numbers, passwords, etc. I also have a document on using the house (including the network password) that can be emailed and shared widely. I created an unimaginably named Google Doc Test that is reached by a link at alohawild.me that will be maintained by Dondrea and others to share my status. Here, you can check on my status. Just click on the link. It contains my flight information right now.

I forgot to bring a board game, and the topic and food were both heavy, so it was best to stop there. I agreed to pick up Z at her house and bring her to the church on Wednesday evening; I am retired and can do taxi work for Dondrea, too. There we will play games again.

Air Volvo gets me home. I am tired, so I do the dishes. I shower and head to bed early, and I try to read. The jetlag takes over, and soon, I am a zombie, not sleeping but not able to read. I get up and go back to bed. Just about the time I accept that I will not sleep, I sleep. I wake up a few times, but I manage to sleep.

Thanks for reading.

 

Some details, I was laid off from Nike after 27 years on 22 April 2024, but yesterday was really the first Monday here at the house when I did not get up and start work. It has been, I think, more than forty years since that has happened (ignoring vacations and illness). One hundred forty-four days ago, I was diagnosed with a non-cancerous, slow-growing brain tumor over the nerves that connect to hearing and balance on my left side. This is a Schwannoma tumor, to be medically correct. The procedure for a moderate-sized tumor, my size, is to sacrifice the hearing and balance on the affected side to make a path to remove the tumor and repair the impacted nerves. There are two surgeons; one deals with the ear and closing, and another repairs the nerves and removes the tumors.

My chances of surviving the operation are 95% or 1/20 chance of death. Matt V gave me a special twenty-sided die with ’20’ on all but one place with a ‘1.’ I have not rolled it yet. I will take it with me.

The surgery is on 20 May 2024 and will take the whole day. Dondrea and Linda, my sister, will be here. I will be in intensive care, according to Dr G, for two days and then likely two more days in recovery and monitoring. There is a 10% chance of a pressure issue in my brain that will require a second surgery. With luck, I should be home on Thursday or Friday. I will likely have some vertigo issues from the complete loss of balance controlling nerves on the left side. I have to be monitored until that fades–I cannot be left on my own. The expected recovery is to last over two months or less. I hope to make the June California party (more on that later).

My layoff will impact my medical coverage next year. Nike’s exit package covers medical expenses for the rest of 2024. I also receive 48 weeks of pay plus my unused PTO, which will take that to about 50 weeks.

Sorry, but we have not covered that in a while.

I could not sleep the night and was up at 4 writing the blog. I also sent a text to Dondrea that was too early (forgetting the time); sorry! Surprisingly, I found myself at loose ends. I started to move through the last things to do for Susie’s Concert and memories. There is a quilt-making company that takes T-shirts and makes them into a blanket. You have to cut the shirts to have one side. I had to supply 24 for a twin-sized quilt. I finished cutting up all the material and packing the shirts. I took Air Volvo to the nearby Walgreens, the closest FedEx drop-off location, and sent the shirts on their way. In 5-7 weeks, we should have a quilt.

My grey suit was much wrinkled by its trip back from Morocco, so the next stop was the cleaners. They will fix that up. I dropped that off. The mail catch-up delivery did not happen, so on Tuesday, I will go find the mail they still have held for me. My request to deliver it this week seems to be lost.

I am off to Portland and have an oncology appointment with Dr. B, but it is conveniently set to 2 (14:00) if I am working. Instead, it is convenient to have a Rueben sandwich and acquire some North African sauces and some excellent pasta before the appointment. I ate my sandwich there at Elephants Delicatessen, ignoring a gal from Idaho who was complaining about the wetness, crime, and everything that is wrong with Portland and why it is better in Idaho.

Aside: Idaho charges a 6% sales tax and, according to my research, a 5.8% flat income tax. The median income is over $33K, and Idaho is ranked 44th best for income. Here, Oregon has a 0% sales tax. Our tax rate is complex (not flat), as we return any overpayments to the people, so it is around 7%, but often less. Our medium income is nearly $38K. Oregon is ranked 18th for best income in US states. Washington State is ranked higher and has a strange mix of high sales tax and fees but no income tax. Yes, it rains here. Idaho has a higher gun mortality rate than Oregon and Washington State, but the crime rates in Oregon (25th) and Washington State (23rd) are higher, much higher, than in Idaho (41st). Sorry, it just annoyed me.

After enjoying my sandwich and practicing my aggressive ignoring skills, Air Volvo took me to Knight Cancer Institute at Legacy, where I met with Dr. B. He was happy to see me doing so well. He reminded me that I need to take better care of my feet with the nerve damage from both the chemotherapy and diabetes. I complained and received no sympathy for getting a blister from walking all over Casablanca, Morocco. He laughed at me. I will see him again, assuming my labs will be good (there is a test for a tumor factor blood test that should not raise), in three months and after yet-another-CT-scan. I should buy a six-pack of these or get miles.

I forgot my hat and phone and had to run back after quickly turning around Air Volvo and illegally parking for a few minutes. I escaped with my hat and no penalties. My blood pressure was up, and that was a surprise. That would be the coughing and the jetlag. I will watch that and will start taking it myself again once I can sleep (but with the surgery so soon, maybe not). I am jetlagged, and that does not make you smarter!

I returned home, rested, and actually slept deep with dreams–pleasant, but the details were lost in the reawakening. It was hard to restart. I made a can of beef soup with country veggies from a can. It was delicious. I am still hungry all the time. Dondrea says that is the jetlag, likely.

What would you do with jetlag and exhaustion? Yes, attend a Zoom call on Python Machine Learning for the Hillsboro area on how to build APIs to use classifier models. The host, Dr. Ernest, is Cuban and speaks fast. It takes you a while to get the accent, but once you do, you can follow along. He has published papers on life sciences and Machine Learning, and it was interesting to watch him do this all together. He used Flask, a framework I don’t know, to form the APIs. A 90-minute geekfest. I answered questions about my layoff, trip to Morocco, and future plans (none until after the surgery; I have to first make it to the future).

Dishes and laundry call me. I do them. I even order the new LG washer/dryer to clean itself. How cool.

I forgot to include that I put a 100 Morocco note in the collection plate at church. Dan Grey thought that was a gas; he was the usher but sobered when he realized he was the counter, too. I told him to just put it on the wall in the church office next to the Indian note someone (guess who) provided before.

I was stumbling-tired by 9ish and decided that was enough for my first day without work to do (or places to travel). I replaced the bandage after showering. I fell asleep and woke at 1, 2, 3, and 4, and gave up as I approached 5. Jetlag.

Here is my jetlag song: Wake me up when September ends. I just like the sounds and the words; I sing along on this one (with apologies to Green Day!).