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Tuesday started as most do with my alarm waking me way before sunrise, and I slowly rose to find my way; I did sneak in 30 minutes more, but fell asleep only a few minutes before the second alarm (or so it felt). Coffee was not ready as I found the kitchen (it has not moved, but on some days it seems further and a more complex trip) before the timer and pushed the button to start the mechanical summoning of the dark wake-up juice.

The dark flavor (from Kalamazoo and a gift from Jeanne) reminds me of how much work we liberals still have to do to find Justice with Compassion in the USA and keep it. The song reminds us, “We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered.” And hopes soon we will come “Out from the gloomy past, ’til now we stand at last where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.” I stip the better waters and have hope for the future, but sometimes I hear those words, “How long!” Song is here.

But I had little time for thinking about all that was going wrong! I downloaded my transactions into Quicken to keep my investments up to date and ensure they haven’t been captured by the various forces of darkness. Nope, just boring stuff. Bills paid. I then turned to the NY Times for an update on the chaos that is today’s news. Again, teargas is flowing in Portland, this time from ICE. Yesterday, a judge restricted the use of teargas to only life-threatening situations. The videos of children being gassed by ICE seemed to upset the judge.

I read other news, trying to understand Wall Street, with the exception of the goldbugs and silver crazies, everyone is just watching strange waves of up and then down. My IRA balance, held and invested by U.S. Bank Wealth Management, rises and falls like the tide now, a 5% tide. I called my advisor, Sam, and told him I would prefer more exposure to the EU, but that was only a mild suggestion. He and I agreed that it is impossible to understand Wall Street right now, and our conservative play with the tide is best for now. No changes.

I harvested my Ford and JPMorgan stocks and transferred the cash to my savings account at U.S. Bank, which pays a lower rate but is very liquid. I am pushing off the day when I need to withdraw some cash from my IRA to live on (with tax consequences). I plan to give Sam and friends a long window of investment earnings before I need to take some earnings for expenses and travel with Deborah.

Before all the investment stuff, I showered, put on more anti-rash stuff, dressed, and all that, and soon was in Air VW the Gray to Richard’s house in Portland. Beaverton traffic was slow, and Portland drivers were changing lanes with confidence in their faith. Most must have been assured that their soul were in good balance, or the next life was a good option, because some vehicles were driving as if there was nothing to fear. But somehow still being below the speed limit the whole time! I managed to reach Richard’s place without loss of paint on the leased EV.

James arrived a few minutes later, coming from Washington State, and soon we took on the mantle of our characters in the board game Tainted Grail. We were optimistic we would make progress on our chapter (the seemingly never-ending chapter 7, notoriously hard to complete, according to what we have read on the Internet), but we made an error and supported the wrong side. This will not shorten our chapter! We found an area we explored before, but now, with properly updated characters, we can dive deep and make a map. We wandered the game board, playing from 9:30 to 1:30, crossing it twice. Only a little progress was made. But we did get more supplies and further developed our characters. Maybe next game!

We packed up the game, using the manual save process, to return next week. Next, I drove back across Portland, still dodging self-assured “It is good with my soul” drivers on the bridges and ramps. I was filling in for a distracted driver as Mom Wild’s facility (in Michigan) called while I was driving. Mom had fallen and was in the ER.

I listened, then called my sister, who didn’t answer, and sent a note saying she was in a medical thing. I then used the hands-free to send a rather lengthy text. Linda found her way to her mom and soon took over. Mom Wild needs some physical theropy was not badly hurt. Details are not mine to share.

I arrived at home, made lunch-dinner from an insanely spicy lamb vindaloo frozen dinner from Trader Joe’s. I added a dollop of sour cream to ease the pain. It was good.

Laundry was folded and put away. Dishes done. But the choice of cleaning, writing with solo board gaming won out. I wanted a break with some social interaction, too. Off to the local Wildwood Taphouse, but I took smaller-sized beers. I am conscious that I need to buy calories for good value. An average flavored good beer is not enough, I need to buy those calories with something excellent, or not drink it.

A few small groups were meeting and enjoying a few beers. I had been missed, and they were happy to hear I was well. They remembered I was traveling much of the end of 2025, and they remembered Deborah, and they were happy to learn we were still traveling together and happy. Like the song, “everyone knows your name.”

I sat at the bar and edited my Dungeons and Dragons adventure. The base of the text is good now. I am fixing some wooden wording and unclear passages, but it is ready to use. Just more polish. I have to resist Grammarly updates as some usages are game-centric. Lately, it takes out commas and then puts them back; repeat.

I get a few more pages done and finally enter the encounters, the part that is actually played. I added notes about my last play for the next DM. I am thinking of a few improvements to suggest for the last encounter and add some drama. More to follow.

I also read the rules for the board game, Plague of Dracula, one of my new solo games. It uses a deck of cards with a uniform distribution of random numbers instead of dice. This means that luck is much reduced, and there is a discussion in the rule book that the feel of the game will be changed if dice are used (which, while over large usage will generate a uniform distribution, but in small sets can be quite uneven). I later read that the game uses AI-generated art. Hmmm. I used that too for the pictures of my Howard stories, but not sure I should just delete it and make it just text. More Hmmm.

Aside: I have suggested for years that two-person wargamers use a list of computer-generated but perfectly uniformly distributed values and put away the dice. They can make multiple sheets and cross out used numbers. Changing the sheets at major breaks in the game (for example, a new day in a full Gettysburg wargame). One can ‘game’ the list a bit, but if sixty or so numbers per sheet (1-6, ten times, and then randomly mixed) makes this difficult, and keeping the numbers under a sheet of paper to prevent seeing the next one, is all you need to remove most of that.

I finished my two beers, small ones, some pretzels, and let the pay-if-forward wall pay for much of my drinks. Wildwood lets folks pay extra and put the money toward someone else. In my case, there was a colon-rectal cancer survivor $12. I gave a 25% tip on the remaining tab.

At the house, I punched and bagged Plague of Dracula and watched a how-to-play video (with corrections) on Board Game Geek (BGG). I printed out a revised rule set dated only a few days ago. I updated a link in BGG for these rules. I nodded off at one part, but managed to get the general idea. I saw there are quite a few entries on rules, and the game designer, Mike Nagel, is answering them. Excellent.

I make some salami, cheese, and a few crackers for a snack (no dinner), then watch more YouTube videos from the late-night comedians. I get much of my news from this, since doomscrolling is now considered too harmful. The fact that the U.S. Justice Department, in the release of the newest section of the Epstein Files, left naked photos of young women and the names of the victims while blacking out names and photos of Trump (that were obviously him), which is outside the law and rules required, just hurts too much. I hear those words again, “How long?”, Rev 6:10 echoing Psalm 13. Indeed, how long?

I enjoyed a more friendly YouTube and read more rules. Finally tired to go on, and tired of the world, crawled into bed, and felt the warm bed, and slept. I did not wake until sunrise.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

Yet-Another-Medical-Issue or YAMI.

Monday was interrupted with information that I have a small tumor, Warthin or primary parotid neoplasm, in my neck under my jaw, not cancer, and I started the steps to do something (it has to be removed, according to what I read). This is not life-threatening; it is YAMI.

I also managed to get my MRI scheduled (Wednesday) and yet another CT for my abdomen. The MRI is to check that the removed tumor in my brain is still well removed. The CT is to ensure that the cancer tumor in my colon has not spread. Neither is likely to be an issue, but it’s best to check. Maintenance.

I woke before sunrise and had to make coffee (thanks, Jeanne, for the coffee from Kalamazoo). I had another almond croissant, the last of the four I made (one each morning). I started doing laundry, which goes swimmingly in the new machines (I have not heard from LG about them buying back the previous machine).

The morning is a blur with the new medical information and trying to find something normal on Groundhog Day. I reheat my chicken Alfredo and make more pasta, this time cooked through, to add. It was more than I should have eaten, but I felt I needed it. It was excellent.

I read, and I was tired again. I am often tired of late. I suspect it is the weather, all the stress of the medical issues and house stuff, and soon I was sleeping in the chair. Corwin, knowing the house’s passcode, walked in and collected his mail. I offered him ham and cheese to make a sandwich, but it was the last of my bread. I then, wtih Corwin eating and watching, made French-style bread in the bread machine, a small loaf. Corwin also enjoyed a can of Trader Joe’s dolmades.

Corwin went home after that. I have agreed to pay him $500 if he cannot sell his truck and donates it to OPB in my name. He has at his apartments, as only two vehicles are allowed per apartment. I had forgotten about these requirements, and often the banning of any commercial vehicles. Often, friends have trouble parking as there are never enough spots. Something for me to remember if I decide to give up the house. Hmmm.

Next, I remember meeting Joan S for dinner at McMenamins Cedar Hills. We split a large fries. I had a beer and a blackened salmon on a salad. Excellent.  Joan had just a bit of my fish and salad to try it, and some fries.

Joan and I talked about her work experiences and some AI things. We had a pleasant meeting; I also scheduled the Theology Pub for Thursday there (I seemed to be scheduling things all day). There were some folks from Nike at the meeting, all retired (layoffs haven’t stopped), and I said ‘Hi.’ These folks did change control and production support.

Deborah and I talked all day. Deborah was getting a new furnace for her house; she had been cold for a while. We talked all day and said good night when she went to bed.

I also did laundry and set the dryer wrong. I found all the clothing still damp and saw the settings were wrong. The dryer in 13 minutes had everything dry after that. Wow!

 

No, I did not get to church and roll for initiative (for those who get that joke). But it seemed I needed a saving throw (again, more D&D jokes) when the alarm went off at 6. I showered, shaved, and all that, then got in Air VW the Gray with coffee I had assembled the night before in the pot (thanks, Jeanne), and headed to NW Portland and Good Sam Hospital. I used Nav, but I used to make this trek every day when Susie was there for so long and knew the way. Nav is connected to traffic info, meaning I will be routed around any messes.

No messes, and I find street parking that is uncomplicated and free near the ER. Parking Kitte, the local parking app, informs me of this. Next, after a short walk in the Oregon Mist, I check in at the ER, where, like me, they are surprised to find imaging open and serving outpatients on Sunday. I then walk to imaging down the usual endless long hallways that I only find in hospitals of a certain age. When I use the usual entrance, I am on the first floor, but the ER, since the hospital is on a hill, is on the second floor. I wait in an empty room, and then a tech finds me, and I am soon IV’d and stuck in a CT machine, and in 90 seconds, back on my way.

I take Nav back home, in a loose-fitting t-shirt, as I had a neck scan, and soon return to my usual Sunday. I write the blog, rather short at just over 600 words, publish it, and dress for church. I put on a now-tight-fitting T-shirt (showing where that weight went) and an almost-not-fitting dress shirt (damn, those are expensive to replace —again, in a larger size — I am not sure I can afford this bouncing weight issue). The tie and a sweater vest make it work (and cover the shirt). I bought new socks, grays with light patterns, and one of those goes on before the black plain (not Brogues) shoes.

I arrive at church after 10:30 (services start at 11), and Dan G is here today, and he does the ushering with me, now assisting. I see the tables are not out; roll them out and, with Z’s and Mark G’s help, get three round tables with chairs added to the fireside area.

The sermon from Ken, our pastor, was called “Are We God’s Executioners or God’s Peacemakers?” It followed from the Sermon on the Mount and from the quotes of MLK and other Civil Rights leaders. Ken then argued that we cannot mistake aggression for peace in the Bible’s text. There is no call from Jesus to kill people because of their differing beliefs, and the conquest of Cannonites is long ago and not relevant. Besides driving out some business folks from the temple and an unfortunate fig tree, Jesus says to publicly follow him and bring peace. To turn the other cheek and to give your coat when your shirt is demanded.

Dondrea follows by covering our experiences on the Southern trip in Atlanta, and she tells of the joy of visiting the Ebenezer Baptist Church, the King Center (next door), and, lastly, the Carter Center at the end of the trip. How we felt that after all the tough messages in Montgomery and St James Parish and Cancer Alley, here was joy and folks still living the push for Justice with Compassion but with joy.

Ken then wrapped up today’s message with Psalm 30 in a familiar translation. We then sang Lift Every Voice and Sing, and I cried through it as the memories of what I witnessed on the Southern Trip game rushed into me again. One of the reasons I have not spoken at church, and will not, is that I suspect I would sit against the altar, cry, and whisper, “How long!”

Getting my focus back, I helped put the tables and chairs away after folks started to head home. I was out of the church by 1. I spoke to Deborah for a while, just chatting about this and that.

I defrosted some chicken thighs (boneless and skinless), baked them with just salt and pepper, and cut them into large pieces. I boiled orecchiette pasta (“little ears”), but again did not get them cooked through. I had a bottle of wine and a jar of Alfredo sauce, which I heated on the stove. I assembled a chicken Alfredo (despite the weight gain), had some, and put away about half. It was wonderful, even with the ruined pasta.

I felt better (having brought some control to my life and not buying lunch but making it from what I have) and watched some YouTube Navy history on Drachinifel’s channel. I fell dead asleep, woke a few times, then fell back asleep. The food, the CT scan early, and the church seemed to reach my limit. I struggled to shake off the sleep. I dropped a cup on my china teapot and smashed it. I tossed it, and the cup (chipped earlier), and tears came again (it was a gift ten-twenty years ago from Susie, who was proud that she found something I never asked for but wanted — a nice old school looking tea pot). I had gotten it out during the Pandemic when tea was the only option a few times, and tea worked better than coffee during my experience of chemotherapy.

I managed to get organized and reach Matt V’s house, and we enjoyed the Infinite Staircase Adventures more. Matt V makes everyone who wants one a burger with various bun choices (Keto or not). This one was a reworking of an old AD&D adventure (I have an original copy), and we dealt with a role-playing and combat challenge with Scott’s plan, which he worked out between sessions, finally working with my help, casting spells to support. Details, as this is published and copyrighted material, and other players may read this, cannot be covered here. I can believe our solution was unique (hat tip to Scott) and our approach to scout, avoid, and role-play our way out of combat unusual if not unique. For D&D players, we are me, a Other sorcerer and charlatan, Karyn, a Warlock with a friendly and nice patron, Betty, as a klapto hobbit rogue, Scott, as a no-damage monk, and Mackers as a range style ranger. No cleric, wizard, or tank-style fighter. We have to be imaginative with our crew.

We are headed to the 10th level now and have to devise another less-than-perfect plan to tackle the new challenges. We break up at about 9 and, after a chat, we head home. I am soon home and soon reading and falling asleep, which surprises me since I had napped before.

I dream of traveling and getting lost on various trains and subways in dream-Europe. I am trying to get back, but I’m on the wrong train, and now I’m spending the night switching trains of various sizes and configurations, some looking like roller coasters. But each time I am late, walk down the wrong platform, or the train is full before I get there. There is a vague threat, and I need to get away and back. Instead, I seem to be getting further and further away and closer to some terror. I wake at 7, home in my bed, safe.

I forgot to assemble the coffee.

Thanks for reading.

I was home late Saturday night after playing board games at Richard’s with five players: Richard, me, Chris, Anthony (a new guy), and Kathaleen. We played Hot Streak, a party game of betting and robot-like-controlled racers (highly recommended). Flip 7 was our middle game, and it is always a fun card game. We played two hands. The hidden-traitor rules-heavy Unfathomable (a reskin and slightly improved version of Battlestar Galactica) was the main game for Saturday night. Lovecraft horror always appeals to Kathleen and me. I soon realized she was the traitor, but she is good at that “who-me” look. Also, we managed to lose without her reveal. She was just not helpful enough, and team-human, including myself, were not quite getting it, as we had not played the game in a long time. I look forward to another play. Kathleen was proud to win by herself having got both traitor cards!

Before this, I found the restaurant Piattino while getting some steps in while walking in Portland’s Pearl District. I managed 3,900+ steps. I had a glass of wine, a tiramisu for dessert, and coffee. After that, I headed to Powell’s City of Books. There I found a $4.95 copy of Failsafe, the 1960s Cold War Novel about nuclear war. Z wanted to try it.

I think Piattino will work for Deborah and Pickles, my bartender (no, really, that is what they call him), who recommended their homemade pasta and the lamb. We discussed whether they could keep the onions and peppers out of the food, and Pickles believes they could make some exceptional, safe food. Likely, I will be back with Deborah.

I was dizzy, nearly fell down the stairs at Powell’s (dying with a used book in my hand in a fall in Powell’s would seem a legendary end for me, but I am glad to have missed out on creating one last story!), and I think dehydrated. I stopped at Hale’s Cafe (formerly Zenus Cafe) and had a steak-and-mushroom appetizer (protein) with plenty of water. I then felt better. I then found Air VW the Gray in the underground parking structure and got lost trying to find Richard’s house, even with Nav. I was one block off.

Before that, I was at the house, working on my Dungeons & Dragons 5E adventure I used in New Hampshire. I want to get it out to DriveThruRPG as a pay-what-you-want adventure. I managed to edit and correct seven of about 25 pages. I hope to get it out next week.

Before that, I rose before 8 and just after sunrise. I found the coffee made; I had assembled it and pressed the correct buttons the night before. Almond croissants are also a breakfast with a banana. The mail still contains the same 1099s I printed after receiving an email saying they were ready. The city of Portland has a sense of humor and sent a card saying they are not mailing their 1099s, but you could use the information on the card to get it (even after sending me an email with the same information). Yes, it takes the strange, weirdness of Portland to decide not to send a 1099 by mail and then send you a card to tell you they are not mailing it. I have two 1099s and got, yes, two cards with the same information.

I wrote the blog, drank lots of coffee, read my email, downloaded my transactions into Quicken, and saw that my IRA, having reached a new high last week, had given back all of those earnings. All unrealized, of course, but with markets over-weighted in technology (AI wannabes), I am not surprised. Still, it is unnerving, and I may ask US Bank Wealth Management to expose me to more EU-based risk. Yikes!

I showered and dressed. The skin rash seems to be responding to the new treatments, and I hope it will begin to fade soon. Two days of the new treatment. A CT scan for the mass in my neck was ordered for Sunday morning at 8 at Good Sam in Portland. I will be up early on Sunday for a quick drive to Portland and back.

With the new glasses, I could read all the tiny print on the board game. That was nice.

Thanks for reading.

 

Friday started with me rising to make coffee. I forgot to assemble it the night before. I was soon with coffee from Kalamazoo, Michigan (thanks, Jeanne). As we come to the end of January, I ensure there is enough cash in the checking account (it is interest-free, so I keep its balance low) to cover the mortgage. The insurance for the Air VW the Gray (over $500 for six months), and my health care is paid (over $1200 a month now that I am using ObamaCare). I am selling my stock once the dividends are paid to cover my monthly expenses (see my financial mentor here). This is cash I placed in reasonably stable stocks that pay dividends and one that just interested me (Ford-F, Index on Gov Sec-SGOV, JP Morgan Preferred-JPM-D, and 3LHaris-LHX). They are all fine stocks, and I will miss my 100 shares of Ford and its 4.3% yield–free money! I also have a treasury that will not roll over. All good.

My plan was that 2025 would be a hard year, as I would get no income for a whole year. I also traveled about 1/4 of the year and did the Southern Trip with the church. I expected to be here financially. I have submitted my application to the Social Security Administration and will begin receiving income in May. About the value of a better-than-average part-time job. I am three years from MediCare. I plan to travel now, while I am well and young enough to enjoy it.

The morning had me start the blog but not finish it. I showered, dressed, and headed to a dermatology appointment. Apparently, my rash was not that interesting, and I saw the doctors for a few minutes. Prescriptions were sent, and Walgreens surprised me by tracking them and sending progress updates via text; I had the ointments by 3. Applied, and on Saturday, there are signs of improvement. Yes, a boring skin issue, but I will be soooooo happpppy when gone.

I also stripped the bed and started the laundry. I forgot about it; I was still struggling to focus and didn’t finish it until late. I never folded it.

I took the leftover polenta I had made earlier (cooking the grain in water, milk, and salt) and placed it in a container in the fridge. It is now loosely formed and cooked in a drizzle of bacon grease in the nonstick pan I used to cook bacon in. I had bacon and polenta. I also heated some apple juice with some spiced cider I had left over and added slices of an orange. I had this as a drink (but regretted the sugar content). It was delicious.

I would be proud if, at this point, I did anything other than just sit in a chair and watch YouTube videos on History and Naval information, but that was the afternoon. I had miscommunicated to Deborah that I had lunch with Z and Dondrea, and we did connect later. We could not watch a show because I had dinner plans (not lunch).

Saying a “Hey Girls” from Deborah, I met Z and Dondrea for Mexican food at Pepita’s Mexican Restaurant. We had a good meal, Chili Colorado for me, and talked about the Cold War with Z, who is now studying that in high school. Dondrea and I walked through the history of U.S. presidents who set the tone of the war in my memory and in what I have read. Truman, Eisenhour, and JFK before my memories, and President Johnson, a faded child memory. Dondrea will try to find Doctor Strangelove Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb for Z, and I recommend Fail-Safe if one is ready for a terrible ending. I recommend checking out the book and reading it, but the movie manages to reproduce the stark lack of choices that is the book’s center. In the movie, a young Larry Hagman (I Dream of Jeannie and JR) plays a central role as the translator.

Aside: the song “We’ll Meet Again” by Vera Lynn (here) still gives me chills. The song ends the movie with images of mushroom cloud explosions as World War 3 begins.

I returned home, cleaned up a few things, and even edited my Dungeons & Dragons adventure. I assembled the coffee, but failed to push the button. I returned to Eric Cline’s book on Amarna texts. I managed to finish and start a chapter before I realized I was asleep, inventing a text I wasn’t reading. I closed the book, wondering how I’d gotten to Python code from Cline’s words, and why I would dream in Python!

Dreams happened. One was a group of people I did not know talking to me, but my hearing got worse and worse, and I could hear less and less. I struggled to get closer, yet I still could not hear them. I wanted to be polite, hear what they had to say, and be friends, but they kept getting quieter and quieter. Later, I dreamed that Deborah and I visited a dream tourist version of Egypt, with a rebuilt Amarna to enjoy. I bored her with text, but she enjoyed the walk in the ruins and reconstructed Amarna. I talked less and walked more.

I woke, proved I was hydrated, and was delighted to find I was not uncomfortable from the rash. Better! I was able to fall back to sleep. I woke after sunrise, just a few minutes past.

Thanks for reading.