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Deborah says this should be titled “$100 Steaks and $20 parking.” We found a cheaper dinner (not that cheap), and the parking was still $20 for three hours in downtown Park City, after 5. But let me start the narrative from the beginning…

I thank all the TSA folks for working today. That gets a smile. One mention that PDX has the highest-rated TSA experience in the USA. They are unpaid and still proud. I feel welcomed by TSA and there are smiles everywhere.

I tried to sleep, but the coffee and traveling kept me awake. I slept on and off until about 2 and then fell into a deep sleep. I then woke three minutes before my alarm. Sat there for a minute, and then it went off (as I rolled over to read the alarm). F**k!

I got a note from Joan S that she was awake; Joan S was my ride for the morning and was picking me up at 6. Deborah, too, was up; I called her and missed as she was dressing. She called me back.

I quickly showered, dressed in the clothing I had washed the night before, and also used fresh towels. I made the bed, added the last items to my bags, and closed them up. I was 40 mins early. Perfect.

Joan found me outside, waiting for her. I was reading more of the 1929 book while standing (I had plenty of time to sit soon, with planes and cars in my near future) until I got a text that she was on her way. I loaded up my new, larger suitcase and my lighter gym bag. I selected to carry many items in my suitcase for this trip.

Joan and I enjoyed the light (though growing) traffic to PDX. In forty minutes, we were there, and I thanked Joan S and found my way to Delta. I was three hours early. Nobody was busy. The Delta folks were chatting and telling stories, with lots of smiles and laughs. They did put on their usual noncommital smiles when I appeared (I saw no other Delta folks). TSA had no lines. The agents, three of them, were actually bouncing from foot to foot while humming to keep awake and focused. I passed with no issues, though my gym bag got a second check and then passed without a search or comment by the second agent.

Breakfast was, as usual, at Grassa, where the drink menu outnumbers the food by 2 to 1. I ate that and drank their coffee, having had instant at the house, then washed the cup while I wrote the blog. I spent ninety minutes writing and eating. I also performed my usual email, Quicken, and doom scrolling. The war news was odd, as the war keeps expanding, but folks keep saying it will soon be over somehow. It reminded me of the statements in the 1929 book: those who needed something to be true kept saying it as if it were true for years, until the Great Depression took hold and strangled the country. Energy is the new force driving the economy. Hmm.

I head to the gate, board, and soon sit down with a kind gentleman who chats about work, retirement, and investments. We enjoy each other’s company until the plane is flying and he watches basketball (it is March Madness), and I try a movie that Deoboah says is delightful, Rental Family. I get through only 1/3, and it is wonderful, and I can see where it is heading. I will finish it on the way back.

We land without events, and everyone is pleasant, and everything works. I ask a police officer what to do when I have an hour between flights. He tells me there is a park-and-wait just inside the airport with gas, food, and a convenience store. I can wait there or park.

I have a Hyundai to drive, a mid-sized SUV. Unlike my ID.4, this one is gas and all the switches, levers, and workings are standard. I do turn on the windshield wipers instead of using the stick (It is automatic). I follow the plan and get some junk food and lots of water while I wait in the car in case of silliness.

Deborah arrives early, finds her bag, and we reunite. The drive is 40 minutes through a canyon, adding some altitude to Park City. Deborah’s plane did not have a sandwich, so she was hungry, and we got some food at the nearby Whole Foods.

Got a call from Jeff. Black mold and soaked flooring under the laundry from the previous machines mean more demos and more expense. But it has to be done. This makes me even happier that I selected the flooring now. Later, Corwin stopped by, said it looked great, and sent a picture. He was there to finish off the corned beef I left.

Later, we have dinner in downtown Park City. We found the town full of folks in furs, dressed in an over-the-top 1990s or Wall Street-on-vacation look. Clothing looked new and perfect. Prices were outrageous, and the town smelled of money and expensive ski condos. Winter sports here, and a golf condo for summer sports elsewhere. We looked poor and like ‘the help.’ Still, we enjoyed dinner at Le Depot with Deborah having the pressed chicken and me the Confit de Canard (Duck leg confit). I have always wanted to try it, as I have many recipes for it. It was OK and flavorful, but not something I will make now. Interesting to try it; not my thing.

We shared a Crème Brûlée à la Vanille that was the best I have ever had. Its taste was light and perfect.

We were tired, but we did walk up the hill and look around Park City. We headed back after doing some car yoga to get out of the underground parking spot. No scrapes, but folks inbound had funny ideas about the Hyundai’s flexibility. No paint was lost, and soon we were back at the hotel, sleeping. My sleep was broken, but I managed a few hours. We rose early.

Thanks for reading!

I rose in the dark, before 7, and found the coffee made. I had woken multiple times as I was not packed, and my corporate warrior soul was not happy that I was keyed into travel and planned everything. But my retired mind rolled over and went back to sleep, but the warrior kept waking me. I got up, and it was so dark I could not find my slippers. Is it a real eyeroll if nobody, including yourself, can see it?

Coffee appeared after pushing the button, and I found my way; it seemed a longer trip to my office from the kitchen. There, I did the usual. While sipping Fair Trade coffee, I read my email, downloaded my Quicken files, and peeked at my IRA balance (down). I doomscroll and discovered a theme that every country has a plan except the USA. Many appear to be planning to grab popcorn and watch the USA and Trump show. Israel blew up the gas fields in Iran and is sharing them with another country to the great discomfort of all involved (Trump first claiming he did not know, he did). Reports are that the damage would take half a decade to repair. Hmmm. The Department of War says the bill for the war will be $200 Billion (a third of the annual budget —the new, inflated budget—don’t get me started). War sucks, the outcome is seldom as promised, and that is why we try to avoid it, until now.

Putting away all of my reactions, I start to recall the day before as I write the blog. I invest the morning in writing. Also talking to Deborah here and there as she winds down work and gets ready. I also booked some hotels on our trip. It is going to be hot in Utah, with record-high temperatures in southern Utah. Rental has AC. We may be driving more and taking photos through windows. I was more worried about the usual Utah last snowstorms. They often get one or two more before April arrives. Not this year.

I write until before 11 and publish the blog, but I do have many fixes. Grammarly cannot find simple spelling errors or mangled sentences. I need the version from two years ago! Hmmm.

I rush and dress (showering later in the day) to make lunch with Scott W. I am ten minutes late because I got distracted while settling the blog and travel arrangements. I checked in for my flight and learned my seat had been released. Ugh! They rebooked everyone on a new plane. I now have a middle seat (despite arranging the flight a month ago), but at least I got a seat (the plane is full).

Scott W is amused by my excuses, and Brad J could not join us today. We have a nice lunch, but I stick to iced tea. Beer is out as it seems to mess up my tummy (and the calories are not welcome anyway). We talk about travel and plans. We avoid discussion of finances; we are both belted in and making few, if any, changes. We talk about the war and the navy issues. I later learned (here) that the drones that Iran uses pack a 100-pound warhead, about the same as a battleship shell, but without the weight and speed. It cannot penetrate and then explode. The only risk is if a drone hits the superstructure or a plane on the carrier’s deck. Russia has a 400-pound version that might be more of a threat (but likely flies slower and has a much-reduced range). We have a nice visit and will meet again after Easter.

I return home, pick up, start the laundry, and run the dishwasher. Time to finish up the house. I start clearing out loose items on some of my bookcases and discover that I have sooooo mannnny decks of cards. Many are marked, or have other features. I am disappointed that I cannot find one of my favorite card tricks, B-Wave, as I sort and box them. I did the trick in NYC when Susie had her stroke. They performed it for me at the oldest magic shop in the USA, and I then did it for Tasha, Jason, and Cat. When I did it the second time. Cat held the cards as she ‘performed’ the trick to her amazement. I reminded her of the steps and dealt the cards for her to hold. I find my rings and other things I never practiced enough to do in front of an audience, but maybe someday.

I find more stuff at the very bottom. I find B-Wave. Excellent! I find the key to the video on how to perform that one. I add the cards to my carry-on as I will have some time to practice. I will leave the rings home; I only did that one for Susie and Corwin.

It gets boring when I do laundry, put things in different places, and pack. I read more of 1929, reaching now 1933. I head to BJ’s Brewhouse and have their expensive ribeye steak. Only a seat at the bar is available, and Analesa is my bartender (and the gothic Alexandra). I read more. I have an Old Fashioned again (this time forgetting to ask for a decent whiskey, but it was not terrible), then coffee. The steak is perfect and as good as they ever come. Overpriced steakhouses and my grill cannot get this good. The steak, cooked, is about 1/2 inch thick now and covers much of the plate. A good piece of meat (I have found other BJ’s to use cheaper and poorer grilling). Only Lucky’s in Michigan does as well, I think.

I return home, finish the laundry, and unload the dishwasher. I find the large suitcase works for me, but my dress shirts will have to be touched up in the hotel room. No problem; I will have time. Hiking boots are no problem. Excellent.

Everything fits, and there is more than enough clothing for two weeks. Good! All packed. I leave the bag open to get the last items. I unpack and repack my carry-on, removing aging items and old USB cables, since everything I have is C now. I charge my battery pack.

I am in bed at nearly 11 after running one more load of everything that was dirty from the day. I replace the sheets and enjoy the clean ones as I read, then soon nod off. I try to sleep. It is not until after midnight that I sleep (too excited to sleep). I wake minutes before my alarm.

Thanks for reading!

I rose before the sun did on Wednesday, 7-something, and found the coffee made. I had been organizing the house and not packing much. Richard, my gamer friend, thinks nothing of hiking all day, told me on Tuesday that we could just drive through or catch the shuttle bus for the Utah parks, Zion and Bryce, and they are great, and hiking is optional. Perfect for Deborah and me, though we managed to enjoy long sets of steps and slippery rocks in Iceland.

Z is not available for games; school work calls.

Another happy surprise was a note from the USA Social Security Administration that my application was accepted and my decent-sized (for early retirement) would start, using the unique government logic, in June. A month more than I expected, but still, it is all done, and I have my official letter of benefits. This fits my planning from years ago. I will have a steady income for half of 2026! Excellent.

My focus is to get the family (fireside) room cleared of loose items, as Jeff will be in next week to replace the flooring. I have moved all my post-tax cash, except my L3Harris stock (which is not yet at 16 months ownership and enjoying an insane 67% increase), into a moderate-interest savings account at US Bank. I have the home improvements/maintenance changes to pay for this year and wish to defer any withdrawals until later (and maybe after the slow correction I am seeing in my investments reverses). I have medical bills piling up and some mold remediation (nothing unhealthy) that I am putting off for now. I figure that I want something I can walk on now.

I am experiencing some return of the skin rashes, but at a much slower pace. It is interesting. My next shot of Skyrizi is three weeks away. Something for after Easter. I suspect I should not decorate the pen with bunnies and ducks to celebrate April.

Re-focusing on the narrative, I write all morning, have a banana with my coffee, liberal (i.e., fair trade) and red-bagged Equal Exchange brand, while I assemble a long narrative and struggle again with Grammarly (which leaves Richard’s name mispelled, but it wanted to rewrite sentences to different meanings). I am beginning to agree with Deborah that I should write my text in MS Word, then copy it into WordPress, and abandon my seven years with Grammarly. Hmmmm.

I finish the narrative by 10:30 (I prefer to be done by 10, but that is not happening for a while), and start my day. I add more items to the spare bedroom where my new suitcase waits for its first chance to travel with me. I also started adding the usual items to my red Nike gym bag. I continue to organize the house more. I take Susie’s beer glasses, put them in a box, and will give them to Mariah.

Corwin arrives after I have corned beef and mushy veggies (adding some fresh cabbage as I reheat it in the microwave) and has some left over too. We move the table out of the fireside room, remembering how to disassemble it, fix a pin that came loose, and put it back together in the dining room (its former home). The area is now crowded with the stationary bike, which I often still use. I had recycled a pile of old iPhones, iPods, the broken Epson Tank printer (not getting one of those again), and moved the table for the printer in the garage.

With that done and agreements for Corwin to clean the house the week before I return in place (I will also have him stop by as DHL is sending a package on Tuesday (small book, Reminiscences of a Stock Operator, from the 1920s I ordered after reading about it in the footnotes of the 1929 narrative I am reading). Mariah suggested a Happy Hour dinner at Hopworks in Portland, but Corwin could not make it (He makes at least $50 a day, seven days a week, before taxes, delivering food, and this, plus his dishwasher/cooking job, pays his bills and leaves him with some extra). He can’t afford a work night in exchange for dinner. I respect that.

I give Corwin a leaf that is mounted in a frame. Susie had it painted as a phoenix in China for the aristan that was on our boat for the river cruise in 1998. Corwin also got a tiger card from the same trip. All to remember Susie.

The trip across Beaverton and Portland is lousy with traffic, and, as I talk to Deborah, I miss my usual path and instead head to Richard’s. Oops. But I take an alternative route that does not make me late and is a nice change from being stuck on bridges, though the view is nice up there. I arrive at Hopworks still early and enjoy chatting with Deboroah and our joy of seeing each other on Friday (assuming the war, Trump, random events, and TSA lines do not make a hash of our travel plans). The local Rosarians, the folks that run the Rose Festival in Portland, are meeting at the bar too, and look excellent in their blue sport coats (men and women). Jeremy Emerson, the group’s President, is smiling and chatting; the parade is on June 6th.

Mariah appears, and we enjoy chatting and some drinks (I stick to one cocktail as beer and I am not doing well). We try the chicken wings (very bad for you), and they are excellent. I get the sweet chili sauce as I do not want to discover what Buffalo sauce would do wtih my tummy now. I see Mariah’s new ride, a new blue Honda hatchback. Mariah tells me she is shocked by how nice and fast this gas hybrid runs and enjoys its 50 miles-per-gallon efficiency. She could not be happier with it. A surprise for a gear-head and now former Mustang owner.

I hand over the glasses with instructions that they are not relics and can be given away, recycled, or used. I am happy to find them a home.

I return home in light traffic and finish the second Star Trek Academy episode. I read, clean, and organize some more. I discovered the tattered remains of the paperwork for trips to Istanbul, NYC (when Susie had her stroke), and my second business trip for Nike (I kept the copy of the visa application for India I discovered in case I needed the information for another visa), while sorting papers stuffed here and there. It looks like in the chaos of my busy working life, I never sorted or returned to these piles; I just stuffed them in a drawer or under some gaming stuff. Playbills and other flotsam and jetsam are the paper trail of travel. My eyes get watery when I remember all the good and bad, but I trash it, since it is just paper and only has meaning to me. Clutter from a good life of travel, some more than a decade old. I have less emotional trouble trashing my 2015 taxes.

I finish the day reading more of 1929: Inside the Greatest Crash in Wall Street History—and How It Shattered a Nation and reach 1933. FDR is not elected, but chooses, even with a begging letter from Hoover, to do nothing until his inauguration (March in the old calendars, now done January). FDR takes much heat from historians now for this cold-blooded political move, as the US economy will slip past the tipping point in these months. It is good reading, but the author is now less narrative and more historical. The wealthy seem untouched by The Crash so far. Hmmm.

According to the book, Winston Churchill was in the USA during the Crash and remained a guest of the rich and powerful for a few years. Getting paid for speaking engagements. He is identified by the author Sorkin as one of the many victims of Wall Street’s salesmanship. He owns tens of thousands after The Crash, as he was far out on the margin before the crash (he needs money, lots of it). In 1932, nearly the end of his trip, he stepped in front of a car (looking the wrong way), and he was seriously hurt. His losses, accident, and political fall (he is out in the Wilderness, as he describes in his autobiography) depress him. It is a cautionary tale of the 1920s, as Sorkin points out.

I close the book and sleep. I wake after midnight, thinking it is morning. I do a lot of rolling over. I finally sleep about 2:30. I do not rise until about 8 on Thursday, with no dreams that I recall. I am spinning as I am not packed yet and have to travel on Friday.

Joan S has agreed to drop me off, but with the war and possible traffic SNAFUs, we changed my pick up to 6 for a 10 in the morning flight.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

I rose with my alarm at 6:45, and it was dark, ugh! I had a 9:30 game at Ricards, and time seems to fly in the morning. I had coffee ready to start, and I just pushed the button to start it now (it is set to start at 7:15). I had the last banana for breakfast (I will acquire more later). My potassium levels are always low, and I like bananas.

I have limited time, but I download the Quicken transactions (then forget to finish reviewing them and do that at night) and read (mostly delete) my emails. I read the New York Times and Semofar’s email summary of news. I check, and the Social Security Administration still has not approved my application (it is now two months and four weeks longer than was suggested, and I am glad I gave them the maximum amount of time — it was approved on Wednesday). I call the SSA, and their phone tree does not let me speak to a human; instead, it says my determination will not be released until May, but is approved one more day later, despite the phone tree’s promise.

I finally started on the blog and discovered (as today) that Grammarly is not running well and is missing things. I write a note about that in the blog and then realize that I am running over. I then hop into the shower and rush. I remember it is Saint Patrick’s Day, and I put on my usual green sweater vest and dress shirt. This is, for me, the most comfortable clothing. T-Shirts feel sloppy and half-dressed, but are the de rigueur for IT, board gamers, and the Pacific Northwest. I try to get some interesting ones.

I have noticed that my shirts and pants are loose, and I am back to suspenders. I have, as I said yesterday, gone down to 225 pounds. I am on a slow glide of not gaining and losing weight for travel and events. This seems to work and helps me avoid the ups and downs most folks experience with dieting. It can be frustrating as I go up and down about five pounds, but then my weight settles on a new, lower number about every six months. Though the holidays knocked my weight back up for a while, it was fun, and I have no regrets.

I do avoid carbohydrates as they are bad for my Type 2 Diabetes (controlled with diet and exercise, to sound like a Big-Parma commercial), and beer is limited to about two a week (and less with my tummy issues). Cocktails are expensive, and I think that creates its own limiting factor (I don’t drink cheap booze).

My skin rash is staying reduced, and my shedding is less reptilian and hardly noticeable now. I will soon finish all the creams and think this Skyrizi is working. I am surprised and happy. Deborah did send me this SNL skit on it here (really funny).

Returning to the narrative, Air VW the Gray at 91% charge took me through a different route, and I avoided Highway 217. I joined Highway 26 at the top of Sylvan Hill and joined a slow-moving downhill movement. Oddly, the traffic moved at a pace that recharged the EV, with my charge returning to 89% by the time I reached Portland Downtown on the other side of the tunnel. I was ten minutes late, having started about ten minutes later than usual. It is a 40-minute trip to the NE Portland Area on Tuesday morning.

We (Richard, James, and I) got frustrated wtih each other while playing Tainted Grail. I was annoyed that the game told us to do something, but there was nothing to do. Ugh! But I have been here with role-playing gamers. We tried to slow down and speak more softly, and we started to find our way. We think there are only two chapters left for us to play, and that puts some pressure on us. Next time, in about three weeks, I think we will be ready to slow down a bit. Still, I have found these later chapters to be immersive and interesting. Richard fights, by himself, a dragon, and James barely survives an encounter he fought alone. Both wanted to play their characters to the max as they see the end coming. For me, I am listening to the story and trying to understand what is happening. We find our focus and enjoy the game; Richard suggests we finish the chapter rather than take the provided shortcut. We agree.

I head home after the game; we ran over. It is nearly 3 when I get back to Beaverton — traffic was light, and I stopped at the Golded Valley Brewery for St. Patrick’s Day specials. Something that was lemon and more lemon with Irish Whiskey to drink, and Bangers and Mash. I used one of the coupons I received when buying gift cards last year, and my meal and drinks were delivered in a flash. It was delicious, and I was hungry. I finished it too fast, but it was great. I gave my waiter the sum of the coupon, $10, for a tip.

I talked to the manager as I left; their lunch traffic was disappointing. They hope that dinner will be better and busier. I was wondering, with gas prices having no limit and the mess that is travel now, if Americans will stop splurging. Nothing will cause a recession faster in the USA than if consumers stop spending. Buckle up, dear readers.

Historically, and from my memory of the 1990s-2000s, Portland slips into recessions early and then stays longer. We do not have multiple big employers to help us break out early (and Intel and Nike are already having their own issues).

In Beaverton, I stop by the 185th Corner market and get some potatoes (I forgot them). I get bananas and, a bit early, some necartines, a favorite. I cannot help myself, even though they are a bit hard, and I eat two of them on Tuesday.

Disembarking from Air VW the Gray (‘de-EVing’?), I start to organize. I talk to Deborah a few times, but I am sleepy from leftovers from Sunday’s cooking and serving, and the food and drink are making me relaxed. Deborah says goodnight (she has an early morning on Wednesday).

Pain wakes me as my feet and legs are still unhappy with standing and walking in the past few days. I return to the kitchen and slice up some veggies, add them to a large pan with water and salt. I pull out the pre-cooked corned beef (2.85 pounds for about $25 at Costco). I turn on Star Trek Academy after avoiding buying Paramount+ a second time (Deborah bought it for me last year as a birthday present), and watch the first episode. It is amazing. But the second episode stops me because it has too much romance for me; likely, that is a sideline, and the action will pick up.

(notice the cabbage is still green at this point…should have harvested it then!)

I follow directions and microwave the corned beef, and it heats through. I add it and its juices from the bag it is reheated in to my pot of now-overcooked veggies (oops), and my cabbage is fading to white. Well, it is my usual dinner, and I revel in it. Eric K and Susie used to give me crap about that. I smile at the memories and dig in. It is perfect for me, and I remember some of the dinners I have made for Corwin, Susie, and the church. It tastes better with memories. No tears, just food.

I make coffee as I am still tired, and later add some Kālua as I have nothing Irish. But still, it seems right for today. The show and the food make it a good ending to a misty Oregon day.

It looks like an Irish cook exploded in the kitchen. I bring it back into order. I pack away enough corned beef and musy veggies for a few lunches (though Corwin will often vacuum up any good leftovers). I have half a cabbage left (uncooked) to microwave in bits for those meals. The kitchen is still in need of a good cleaning, but it is no longer comically messy.

I have mixed feelings as I remove all the unfinished work from my table in the family (fireside) room. Before, when I was working and caring for Susie or recovering from various surgeries or treatments, sitting listening to music and painting figures and building electronics was excellent, but now I want to get out and do things, plan the next trip, write, play games, and run role-playing sessions. Models, figures, and electronic work are not shared experiences, and indoor work has lost most of its appeal. It feels strange to pack them away, but it is likely that someday I might need them again.

My scaples, eyewear with 3x bifocals, and paints are put in boxes and moved out. Expensive and difficult-to-find brushes join them. Electronics are placed in the garage cabinets or stacked with other items. Piles of yet-to-be-primed figures are set aside in my office. The cover for my table is damaged, and I ball it up and take it out to the trash. Paints and glues are put away in bags and a carrying case. The table is again a flat space wtih nothing stacked on it. It needs to be moved to make way for the flooring work next week. I will see if Corwin and I can move it (when disassembled, it is not that heavy). I feel like a corner in my life is being turned. I am happy about it.

More of the 1929 book fills the end of my day. I am now reading about the 1930s, and the aftermath of The Crash remains uncertain to the folks living it. Hoover is struggling to help, but the country is paying for unrestrained debt (dear reader, does this remind you of something current?), and the damage is serious. The markets rise and then fall to new lows as investors believe, for a moment, that this time it is the recovery. The wealthy are still making it work for them. But the spiral is beginning, and soon the horrors of the deepening Great Depression will start in the mid-1930s. I get sleepy and stop reading. I soon nod off.

I sleep and dream that I am back in school, taking a physics test, but I have no idea what the answers are or how I missed all the class until now. I try to answer some of the test questions and discover, to my horror, that there are questions on the back of the test I missed; I have used up all my time. I am f**ked. I wake 6ish, and it takes a while for me to shake the dream and think about how to answer the questions, then fall back asleep and continue the dream, scribbling more answers. Maybe Star Trek Academy is not a good answer for an evening show! I wake again and climb out of bed, coughing as I enjoy the pollen.

Thanks for reading.

 

It was not frosty, with blue skies and some hints of cotton-candy clouds here and there. Not at all what we expect in the Pacific Northwest in mid-March. And nothing we expected as we crossed the Ides of March (15th); we just enjoyed another three days of rivers of rain. Coffee was ready for me, and I was moving slowly again, and my memory was not working well, and I could not recall words, and I often entered a room in the house and wondered why I was there. I did not shake that until the afternoon, and my writing became a constant process of looking things up. I returned to the blog’s published text and made over 10 updates; I wrote mangled sentences, and Grammarly is not working properly anymore, and missed them. Before it would see them, I would revise them, usually adding a few words to finish the thought or removing extra connective words as I changed my mind in mid-typing and did not make all the changes. I think Grammarly has too much AI now to find simple mangled sentences.

Grammarly: I may replace it soon with another product, but my expectations are low, since a type-as-you-go product is not what the market is selling now. Instead, according to their model, I should submit my work to ChatGPT or like LLMs and have to return an improved text. Not what I want. I may have to write in MS Word and then copy back; I have had to do that before. I have used Grammarly for 375 weeks straight, according to its count, more than 7 years. It has enjoyed nearly 27 million words from me (or you should feel bad for it, having had such a terrible diet of my writing, and this may explain why it is going out of its AI mind).

I got the blog done just before lunchtime. Next, I heated up the leftover jambalaya, the red version. I had that while I watched some YouTube videos on Battleship Texas and other news, while I ate my food. It was a bit spicier than usual when reheated. I started on the laundry, leaving the bed to be changed on Thursday when I do my final packing.

I showered, scrubbed, and applied almost the last of my creams. The Skyrizi seems to be working, but I am willing to double up for now. I will be done with the creams about the time I travel.

I am clearing the family room (fireside room) and getting it ready for some work. Jeff is going to replace the floor with new vinyl interlocking tiles. He will have to demo my tile work from years ago. I have selected a wood-like pattern with white and brown tones to fit the carpet and the wood in the house. I think it will look better and certainly will clean up easier. I am tired of grout lines!

I binge-watched the second season of Foundation on Apple+. I did not get much more done than laundry, starting on packng packing, setting the combination on the new bag, and trying to bring some order to the house.

I decided to make dinner and defrosted a pork chop by running water over it. I found a jar of Alfredo Sauce and some nice pasta (from Italy) and made a nice salad (using the chopped leftover celery, green pepper, and a carrot). I had all of this going on when Jeff and his son showed up to measure and talk about the work, and Mom Wild called. She was lonely and unhappy because no one was visiting her. Linda has had some health challenges these couple of weeks, I explained, but Mom would have none of that. She demanded I show up now. I explained it was not possible as I was in Oregon, but she was sure a good son would show up. It was an unhappy call, and the Alfrado Sauce boiled over at the same time (Mom Wild has powerful VooDoo).

Jeff and his son who is much taller than Jeff and I measured out the area and we talked about the demo and I paid the first part of the work. He will do the pantry floor, the closet (still in the original gray carpet when the carpet people missed it, and I did not notice until later), and fix or replace some baseboards.

As Jeff says, there is no limit once you get started, and we stopped at changing the molding, repainting the walls, and going too far. We will let the kitchen and walls be. He will start the work next week when I am away. I have put off the mold control, as this seems more pressing to me (and since I can see it will not be depressing to spend the cash, enough for a nice trip to Paris).

With Jeff paid and measurements taken, and going with the basic rule, do what he would do if it were his home, while not trying to increase the scope. He will call or text me if I need to make decisions. His wife, Robyn, who used to live across the street when she was a little girl, will be helping him with my stuff. They will be moving all the stuff out (thus, while I am moving things now), and then she plans to find a new order for them. All good.

I then got my now slightly overcooked but not dried-out pork chop (I fried it with just oil, salt, and pepper), pasta in sauce (with extra sauce to slide the pork in), and a salad, and continued my binging of Foundation. Almost too much food, but I was hungry. Also, the guilt and stress (Mom Wild) always make me eat.

But I have lost five pounds from the rash, tummy issues, and chopping and cooking for about 8 hours. Down to 225 and headed to that elusive 200.

I took a short walk as it was a lovely day, and opened all the windows and doors. I made my ring goals based on my Apple Watch, which continues to suggest they might be set too low. Nope, I like the gratification. I stood when ordered and watched some of Foundation on Apple+. I enjoyed it and completed the whirlwind that was season 2. Wow! I missed all the clues, ugh!

I then dressed for bed, not starting season 3, and read more of the 1929 book by Mr. Sorkin, which is now into the thirties, as it covers the aftermath of the 1929 Crash and some remaining chicanery on the market, and now tax evasion. By 1931, it was clear that Hoover was done for and that his hands-off-and-then-on approach was failing to inspire the public. Again, the story is hard to put down.

I put the book down and soon fell asleep. I wake to my alarm at 7, having heard Susie’s voice at night, but I could not remember what she said. I suspect she suggested not overcooking the cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day, but just a guess.

Thanks for reading.