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I usually rise at 7 with time to write this blog, but Sunday I woke at 4 and then 5, knew sleep was not returning, and rose to enjoy my day. I turned on the coffee I had assembled the night before and soon had toast with peanut butter and a banana with coffee to start my day. I wrote the blog, but as it was Sunday morning, Deborah called, and we chatted away much of the morning. I completed the blog and got to church at the last minute.

It was a cool, overcast morning, and nobody really wanted to get started. Dondrea mentioned at the start of church that the skies felt like a blanket and a reason to stay in bed and pull up your own covers. It was the Sunday after Easter, always poorly attended, and the choir and staff nearly outnumbered the rest of us!

The music was good, and I did the usher duty for the collection. I did not stand in the back as I was distracted and not focusing much on the church. Again, waking so early damaged my attention span. Pastor Ken gave the sermon and seemed to struggle with the lectionary text. These texts are Bible verses that are supplied for pastors every week. Today was hinting towards the rise of the Holy Spirit and the arrest of the apostles as recorded in The Acts. Ken said the officials, like many we see, took the expedient solution, repression, rather than the more risky choice of tolerance. But the officials are under the thumb of the very scary Roman Empire, which wants only order, trade, and most importantly, extracting cash. While often called taxes, I would characterize these payments more like protection money from an intolerant, violent group, Roman officials far from any oversight or appeal: Pay or face annihilation. Ken’s love of history came through, and he covered his realization that we, as the dominant authority (well off and Christian), must not repeat this mistake. It would be easy to let fear, expedience, and not love (or Justice or Compassion), drive our decisions.

I received a call from Mom Wild just before church (which is why I was almost late). She was lonely and needed someone to talk to. She wanted me to visit, but I won’t be there until July and only for a few days. She called again later and repeated the same request. Mom Wild is struggling in her new facility and also with memory issues.

Corwin met me in the street; he was walking over. We took the Air VW the Gray to Portland in slow-moving traffic. This is not usual on a Sunday. The usual forty minutes were an hour with Beaverton and Portland roads and highways stuffed with cars. I may start using the MAX and meeting near MAX locations for lunch.

We did find some parking off Hawthorn and soon met Mariah at Grassa on Hawthorn for a late lunch or early dinner. I have wanted to try their food for years. I had the baked pork ‘Sunday Ragu’ with freshly made rigatoni. They use more salt than I do, but it was excellent. We had some garlic bread with it (a separate charge) and resisted another $10 for a salad. The wine was good. Mariah and Corwin thought theirs were good (Corwin picked sausage and vodka sauce).

We chatted during lunch, and then we headed back. Traffic outbound was light. Corwin was soon on his way, and I took a nap. The lack of sleep, wine, food, and driving prepared me to sleep. A few hours later, I woke up more refreshed. Deborah and I texted and chatted a few more times now that I was awake. I wished Deborah a good night as she started to fall asleep. We often begin and end our days together by text or a call.

A new Doctor Who episode dropped, and I watched it with reheated pork roast and potatoes. I added baked beans to add some more flavor. I roasted the pork in the oven to get it warm. Using faster methods would have dried it out. The food was great, and the Doctor Who episode returned to a scary one full of jump scares. No spoilers. It was frightening, and I thought it was well done. It has been a while since they did one like this.

I debated and decided at the last minute for a late movie on a Sunday night. It was nearly empty when I was in the theater, as the previews were still showing. There is no reason to be early for the movies now with assigned seats and twenty minutes or more of ads and previews. Another woman was there a few rows back, and I apologized for invading her private viewing. She was gracious, and we laughed.

The Account 2 was an excellent assassin movie, and I have noticed that this theme is appearing often in action movies now. This film did not include Anna Kendrick, but many others did return and the movie picks up years later. The movie, like the first focus on The Accountant and now includes his brother and builds slow. The computer hacker scenes I loved. I enjoyed it and, with the warning this is a voilent movie with assassins, recommend it. Kathleen had told me on Saturday she liked it.

I was not home until about 11. I went to bed, read, and was hit by my Kindle when I fell asleep. I turned off the light, asked Alexa to put on music to sleep by and was soon deeply asleep.

I dreamed that my uncle visiting me here in Oregon. I have never dreamed of him before. He was his usual condisending self. I woke once to prove hydration and went back to sleep.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

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I watched a little of the funeral for the late Pope Francis. I remember seeing on TV the old movie The Shoes of the Fisherman when I was a child, and learning that there is a pope and an election. The more recent Conclave is a fun set of twists and turns, more like a Cold War spy movie (George Smiley as a cardinal). Dan Brown gets credit, too, for this movie, Angels & Demons. And the Godfather III movie includes papal intrigue. There is also a comedy in which an unknown was selected by accident, The Pope Must Diet. And lastly, The Road to Gandolfo is a comedy spy book that includes kidnapping a pope by the thriller writer Robert Ludlum (originally published under another name as it was too zany for his usual audience)–I enjoyed it years ago.

The point is that I experience the papacy and its election through books and movies. It seems unreal to me, obviously, I am not Catholic. However, one of the items on my list is the “Dan Brown Tour of Rome.”

I will miss Francis’s attempt to merge kindness and discipline. It seemed more of a personal struggle for Francis, who then extended it to the Catholic Church. I wish the conclave well and am betting on Cardinal Parolin, an Italian. He would continue Francis’s work as he is the head diplomat of the Holy See and an insider.

I rose late on Saturday, after 7:30, and the sun again appeared. I had turned off the heat and AC as we are now in the in-between times in Oregon. The house was just getting cold. It was another bright and sunny day in Oregon, which seemed more like California than April in the Pacific Northwest.

I started on the blog, rejoiced that coffee awaited me (I assembled it the night before and set the timer), and started on the blog in the office. My morning started with a text from Deborah, and we also talked for a while. I wrote fast, but at 9ish I showered and all that to make my show.

Today, Le Nozze Di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) was shown locally in theaters at 10. The Met in NYC broadcasts and records the matinee show for some of its operas. Today, the Met used a spinning stage but revised the story to a 1930s look with suits, dresses, and even hairstyles, but no smoking. It was my first time seeing this Mozart opera. Though I thought it dragged a bit in the second half, it was fun, lovely music, and an enjoyable 4.5 hours.

The sound was troubled, the broadcast started too quiet, and it was not in sync for much of the show. I read the words often, so I did not see that problem. There were some dropped frames here and there. They gave rain checks to the audience. Still, I enjoyed the Opera and will try to make some more. I got a small bag of popcorn for the second half.

I was at loose ends for a few hours. I thought about heading to Portland for lunch, but instead found the Cedar Hills McMenamins and got a seat at the bar not far from the open door. My sweater vest worked as the desert wind was cold while the sun was hot. We often get cold winds from the high deserts; in the winter, it can be 20°F winds on a 30-40°F day. It will kill any tender plants. Thus, smarter gardeners plant those near the house and out of the wind.

I had a beer with fish and chips. While I sat at the bar, eating, I wrote the rest of the blog. I use my iPhone’s HotSpot for the Internet, never trusting the local connections.

I was late for lunch, about 2ish, and ordered dessert and coffee. The lemon cake was OK, but the berries with it were a mess. I thought we did better in Detroit at the cooking class. It was not as lovely, as often happens, as the picture.

I boarded Air VW the Gray and dared the Sunset Highway (26) on a sunny, warm Saturday. It was slow, but there were no accidents or construction, and I was surprised to quickly arrive at Guardian Games in SE Portland. There, I looked at the games and other role-playing game (RPG) items. I found a cheap ($23) stapled book adventure for the SciFi Horror RPG, Nietzsche’s Demon.

It was still early, and I was still at loose ends. I took the VF to Cargo’s parking. I saw that the Hair of the Dog bar, which once shared the parking, was defunct. The establishment was a favorite that did not come back strong after the pandemic and appears to be finally gone. Before the plague, their beer and food were proud and well executed. I remember the Chuck Norris Duck Wings were spicy–they had a kick. I had forgotten my hat there, and a week later, I found they were holding it for me; the bar will be missed!

When they reopened, the food was awful, and the beer was expensive. They did not last long. On Saturday, I walked by the For Rent sign, and a guy was sitting at the table drinking and looking unhappy. I almost stopped, but I decided I wanted to remember the place as I remembered it.

Instead, I entered Cargo. This store is a mix of imports, antiques, and miscellaneous paper items. I found some cards and breath mints in an Ouija-style. However, resisted some of the cool wall hangings and their new travel book section.

Next door is Malpractice, a high-end cocktail bar. I met the owner, Rick, and he had no recommendations. I picked something from their online menu: a boozy and interesting mixed beeswax and bourbon drink with hints of peach. A bit of mint was placed on a clip on the super-thin, tiny glass bowl-like martini glass. I would breathe in mint as I sipped, not mix it into the drink. It was a perfect fit. While not cheap, the drink was good, and I would like to try others. There is light food to go with the drinks. I will be back!

After giving out my cards, I headed back to the EV and traveled to Richard’s place. Soon, we were repeating the same board game as last time: Stupor Mundi, a deck-building and resource management game. I watched Richard have perfect combinations and score 50% higher than the next person. Yikes!

The game appears more like a race to get the perfect combination than an efficiency game. I struggled with my setup, and Kathleen said it was difficult when she played it. Each player has special superpowers and can acquire more. Blue, the side I was playing, was weak. I managed to just stay in third place with some misplays at the start as I had some trouble reading some cards and process. I was more careful for the rest of the game and watched Kathleen struggle a few times. It was not just me.

While I will play it, Stupor Mundi will not be in my collection. Victory is based on knowing what combinations to grab that complement your color’s special abilities. You then efficiently use your unstoppable advantage to win. Not that interesting to me, but my complaints may be unfair. I have played the game twice and still have not gotten it into my head. After the game, we talked politics, and I got home safe late in the VW. I had trouble sleeping and woke before sunrise at 5:30. I did turn the heat on as it was cold tonight (30s).

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

The forecast was wrong, but usually, predicting overcast conditions in Oregon in April is riskless. This year’s rains are reported to be 105% of expected amounts. A little sun is OK. It was like a day in Northern California, cool but sunny.

I rose after 7 and found my pot of joy waiting for me. I assembled the coffee the night before and set the new coffee machine to summon the elixir of liberal bitterness. Fair Trade coffee ensures my cup helps and does not hurt the world. The dark and bitter taste reminds me of how much more needs to be done, but Hope is in the cup, and I know that eventually, the world will remember Justince with Compassion and the Love of Community. I hope that each sip gets us close.

I did the usual things: reading the news (doom scrolling for us liberals) and updating Quicken. I looked at my investments, and with the wild ups and downs from Trump proclaiming and then reversing tariffs, plus his threats to assume control of the Federal Reserve and then reversing that, too, I was surprised to be so far ahead. I had sold my 401K to cash to move my holdings to an IRA. This happened just before the chaos, meaning I sold out high and bought back in low, though I am still heavy in cash. The stock that I hold (i.e., not in the IRA) has tanked 8%, but I feel lucky it was only that bad.

I wrote the blog, texted, and talked to Deborah. It is wonderful to wake up to a text from her and, often, a call. Later, on Friday, I wished Deborah a good night as her day had ended first. She resides in the Eastern Time Zone.

The blog was not finished until the afternoon, but I had no plans for Friday. Mom Wild surprised me with a call, and I texted my sister with her request. While I try to help, distance makes things complex. I started the laundry. Friday and Monday are my usual laundry days, the once work-from-home days when we first returned to work from the lockdown at the shoe company. I stripped the bed, put out the other sheets, and later put them on just before getting in bed. Lunch was me finishing the reheated pasta and meatballs I made a few days ago.

I watched ShipHappens, Battleship New Jersey, and Drachinifel on YouTube. Drachinifel had translated a document describing Henry VIII’s navy and created tables of the main ships’ armament, ammo, and stores. I expect a new book soon.

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I then decided I wanted to try out the Age of Steam board game–an 18xx train-style board game, packed it in the Air VW the Gray, and headed to Wildwood. JR was there, and we chatted for a while. Then, I grabbed a beer and a table and spent the next two hours playing two partial games for three players. I have played a game like this at Richard’s, but the map was different, and there were no goals that were not in this 18xx train game. This is officially, if you are into 18xx games, 1875 Age of Steam, Deluxe. I misplayed and underpaid the players and knocked one of my test players out of the second round. Wrong! I then overpaid in the next play, but that at least let me try out many of the game’s features. Unlike other 18xx games that can go on all day, this one ends in under two hours. Also, the bank and the players running out of money are not a game-ending trigger. I liked this game as it was about building and running your railroad, and that is all you score for (and stock offerings reduce your score).

With the game set in my head, I paid my bill for two beers and headed back home in the EV. The sun was setting, and I watched in the backyard in its light for a while. The hummingbirds were in and out of the pine trees and redwoods. Bugs would whirl in the short-lived flight of early spring, with many living for only days. Larger bugs would perform figure eight flights, raising and falling more than ten feet. Bees were all over the few flowers on the apple tree, rhododendron, and mountain ash. A few small white moths or butterflies flew here and there. No larger predators-like insects or butterflies, were yet out. The bugs I witnessed are harbingers of summer and often fall to frosts or rains.

I took out the pork roast from the frig and despite the two hour cooking time, started roasting it. I also boiled potatoes and made a salad. I cleaned and did laundry while it cooked. I also connected with Deborah on the phone before she slept and ended her day together. Dinner was more assembly and following a process than chef work. I made four servings of pork and admit I had two. It was delicious.

Lettuce was frozen in frig. I managed to salvage enough for a salad. I had lots of olives, so I added them.

Aside: Getting frozen items on the frig is a bad sign; I remember Dad telling me that. This is an older frig and when they start to freeze in the frig part it means the cooling stuff is failing and it is over rev-ing to get the freezer cold. I tried to turn things down a bit, but I suspect it is doomed–but the frig is more than twenty years old and was rebuilt once under warenty–I got my value out of it. I will take measurements for the space (it is smallish) and look for a replacement. I will, based on Deborah’s suggestion, also clean it up.

I binge-watched the first three episodes of Andor, which is now in season 2. I am not sure if I think it’s better than season 1, but it is busy tying together some leftovers from season 1. It is dark and harsh. There was some irony and even a funny moment. Though I did not like it as much, I could not stop watching. So, I recommend it with reservations that I cannot specify.

After that, I did the dishes for dinner and headed to bed. Sleep was hard to find as I was warm (the heat and AC are off), and then I woke twice for proof of hydration and one bad dream. I dreamed I was choking to wake to an asthma attack. I got it under control with my inhaler. My throat is sore today. Yes, Spring is full of pollen, and I opened the windows earlier. Hmmm.

Thanks for reading!

I still feel that I need to do something every day and make the day mean something. A friend asked me, with concern, “Can’t you take a day off or read a book?” Maybe on a beach in some distant land, but I feel like every day filled with things to do and learn is a gift. Perhaps I will slow down and relax someday (maybe reading on a distant beach or sitting in a chair, sipping a drink on the porch in New Orleans), but now I think there is much to do. Thank you for asking!

My father, Bob, rose every morning to see the sunrise. “There are only so many left,” he told me. All these new things and some familiar ones make my day feel fulfilled. Someday, they will stop, and someday I will be slowed by age and proud to just watch a show, eat something, and remember the days when I wrote this blog. Thank you for reading!

On other challenges, Grammarly continues to rewrite my writing with correct but differently meaning sentences that, while grammatically correct, are inconsistent with my sentence’s original thought and words. I have to rewrite more than before; it is too easy to update by clicking the new incorrect version. Yikes! It is at the cutting edge of artificial intelligence (AI) and reassures me that we are much further from the singularity than some writers think.

Thursday started with me rising after 7. It was a warm, sunny day, and I had rolled over a few times to resist the bright sun trying to reach my vampire moment. I welcomed the morning, shaking off undead thoughts of pulling up the covers and hiding from the sun. The coffee was waiting for me, liberal fair-traded, and soon I had a cup, breakfast of toast with peanut butter and banana, and walked to the office to start my electronic AI-enhanced life. Grammarly revised my words to be more correct (and often less clear). My transactions were pattern-matched by an AI model I helped to create in Quicken (and likely my work was lifted and shared internally to make their product better), my searches all AI (now SwissCow and not Google, thank you), and Alexa answering my questions about the weather. Yes, an AI-filled morning. I did have to override Quicken twice, Alexa was confused a few times, and let’s not even talk about Grammarly. I think we are still safe.

Aside: I imagine a Terminator loaded with this technology, and our hero, Howard, using a double negative to defeat the AI running the SciFi death machine. Or maybe a few quotes from Monty Python. “Now that is done, maybe a stop to get a taco in Portland,” would be his reaction to the pile of destroyed silver-colored tech.

Feeling more like myself and finding my groove, I wrote 1900 words, and I did not feel exhausted when I finally finished at nearly 11. I took breaks for food, walking in the grass in the warm sun, and other needs. It was a nice morning.

I quickly showered and all that and then boarded Air VW the Gray to travel across Beaverton to Cedar Hills McMenamins. I met Scott for lunch at 11:45, and we talked about investments, AI, travel, and a few other topics. This is our weekly meeting, and we enjoyed a burger (Scott’s non-meat and with a salad, and mine with meat, bacon, blue cheese, and fried). Scott has found some interesting Europe-based mining companies he bought at the Trump-dip with a good dividend. I noticed my US Bank Wealth Management group investing me in load funds, but using institutional versions that are not available to the individual investor, are low-expense, no-load, and high-yield. Interesting.

After that, I took the EV home and napped for a bit. My usual response to beer and lunch.

I remembered to put out the trash and other containers. I don’t know if this is recycling or lawn waste week, but I put it all out. I carried the collected cardboard, cans, and bags to the recycling, uncluttering the house. I also fold and put away the laundry. The house looks more ordered now. We all know it is an illusion; American homes junk-a-fy without effort.

Yesterday, I made milk bread, white bread with milk powder, using the bread machine with some milk powder. It is a softer loaf, and the powder resists bread mold. I made toast from it. I tossed the wheat bread as it was getting old. I had that for breakfast today.

I discovered rust on the roses, and it was worse now. Looking on the web, I then took my cutters and alcohol and cut away the rust-poisoned canes, about half of the rose bush’s growth for the Spring. I cleaned the cutters often and between plants and washed my hands. The rust-poisoned canes were put in the trash. Next, I popped over to Ace and looked for sprays.

Some had warnings that would not have me use them as paint, let alone as rose sprays! Do not use near food, pets, children, or areas in use. Do not use on seed plants. Do not use unless appropriately dressed. Yikes! I then saw neem oil and went for that. It is not a super deadly chemical, not likely to cause the next zombie invasion or an Audrey 2, and it works by drowning the rust. Spray it on in a well-shaken bottle once a week. There! Done! Fits my usual lawn care thoughts, which is not to use harsh items in care for my lawn (dig out a weed, don’t spray it).

With the roses less rusty and missing some buds, sadly, I think that might help. I will monitor, spray, and clip as needed. It’s the first time I have faced rust that I remember. It is on two older-style roses (the old school tea rose that came with the house and is likely older than me, and the bourbon rose) with no sign elsewhere.

With the roses done, I return to a board game from GameFound that I have ignored, Age of Steam, Deluxe Edition. I reread the rules, and have played a game like this at Richard’s that I think is a version of the same system, 18xx, but revised closer to a Euro and worker placement. Many operations loved in a more train/market 18xx are abstracted now. I could play it on a Wednesday (many 18xx games have unlimited duration).

I punch it and discover that the replacement tracks are transparent, but all 114 are covered with a transparent film. I start to remove it. I will do this over time, as this is a tedious task and takes time for each piece.

Next, I meet Dondrea and Z for dinner at Nonna Emilia Ristorante Italiano, an old-school American-Italian place with even the plastic grapes stapled to the walls. I get a planter for my birthday from them that we get in Air VW the Gray with some effort.

Dinner was good. Dondrea and Z split a plate of clams and pasta. I had sausage with grilled onions and peppers and a side of spaghetti with meat sauce. It has been months since we have had dinner, and it feels good to just relax and let someone bring us food while we chat.

With the happiness of good company, food, and drinks, we went out separate ways. I returned home in the EV, and put the planter out. Looks good.

I spent the rest of the night reading more about the board game. I went to bed about 10:30, but some chocolate I had enjoyed made sleep hard to find. The house was 71F, and blankets were unwelcome. Eventually, sleep found me.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

I try not to swing from depression to elation. That feels more manic than alive. Instead, I had a good Wednesday and did many things. The depression comes when I don’t do anything. It felt more like a usual day for me.

I rose after 7 and soon found the kitchen; it had not moved. In the kitchen, technology had summoned a pot of caffeinated joy into existence for me, which I had assembled the night before. Technology then applied power to the various parts and brought coffee to life! The dark liquid is fair-exchanged and thus deliciously bitter and liberal, my favorite flavor. With Hope, also found in the morning elixir, I headed to my office to begin my writing.

Yes, dear reader, I did go back to that boilerplate, but I like coming up with new words for coffee.

I wrote the blog, updated the transactions in Quicken for all my live accounts (IRA balances require manual updates), and paid my accumulated monthly expenses (which always reminds me of Gomez in the Addams Family, “for the monthly expenses”). While my cash is lower than I planned, the extra expense for Air VW the Gray, including paying off the Volvo failed repairs, rental car until I bought the EV, and installing a charge station, comes to nearly $9,000. Sucks! I will not curtail my travel (Mickey is next and that mouse loves ‘cheddar’), but I will be careful not to increase monthly expenses and try to keep my spending down when not travelling.

With the bills paid, blog done, I walked through the backyard, and the frost did not seem to slow anything. The bees are all over the blooms on the apple tree and the mountain ash. There are small moths or butterflies (they flutter by too soon for me to identify them). The lawn service has the grass a dark green, cut, and it appears very happy. The roses have jumped into the sky already, but show rust this time. Never had that in years. How strange. I must treat them as the red bumps are now on two roses. The roses are thick with promises of flowers.

I shower, dress, get the mail, and talk to Deborah, who is happy to hear my last birthday present arrived. I have a Calamity Mug, something I have considered buying a few times. Excellent. Next, I board Air VW the Gray and head to the nearby MAX station, then into Portland. I was happy to get a newer car, but the seats were less comfortable than the older ones. Hmmmm.

I got to see a likely illegal cash deal in non-US currency, and one passenger was having an animated talk about the vibrations in the earth that he could feel; there was nobody in his audience. In other words, it was the usual trip to Portland. I smiled and read my Canadian murder/crime story on my Kindle. I wore a coat and a white hat, almost invisible with the gray hair and the book.

I got off at the Library station, stopped, and enjoyed the cool morning in the nearby park, Director Park. It was the last minutes of morning, and a gentleman was playing old classic rock loudly on speakers. I gave him a tip, which surprised him. The giant chess set was not out, but the fountain was shooting water here and there.

The park along Park Street (North Park Blocks) was full of folks who, by their carts and mixed clothing, were likely homeless. I saw a line near the still-not-remounted Teddy Roosevelt statue (just the block remains, and you have to imagine a metal president on a metal horse). The ‘Sandwich Ministry’ was running. A group of three people was supplying sandwiches, coffee, and a drink for anyone. I gave them a donation, which made them very happy.

Aside: Pastor Steve once told the story of a man who used to drive around and give sandwiches as a personal ministry–he just did this and did not think to tell anyone. It was something he just did. He passed unexpectedly, and one unknown man came to the funeral, and according to Steve, told the story of the late man giving him a sandwich. The family then took up the role of giving away sandwiches. I do not know if what I witnessed was the fruit of this story or another tale. I was happy to see it; everyone looked calm and happy. I believe the worst of being homeless is to be treated as if you do not exist. To be treated less than human and become unseen. Being seen, handed a sandwich, and getting some peace is a great gift.

I entered the Portland Art Museum, PAM, and was there to see the Monet lily pad painting that had been repaired and the varnish removed. It was reportedly still slightly faded. I learned you cannot undo all the darkness from a varnish without destroying the original paint from the informational video across from the Monet. PAM has only a few French Impressionist paintings; most were on the wall for this show (except an embarrassingly ugly and small Van Gogh of a cow in dark shades, here).

PAM, never a wealthy institution, focused on graphic arts over its 100 years and its collection of Japanese prints, M.C. Escher original works, including canceled engraving and woodblock masters, and other paper-based art, often from well-known artists (but obviously cheaper than painting, bronzes, and so on), is extensive. PAM curators assembled next to the French Impressionists, Japanese prints, and works that echoed the influence of the Japanese prints, including a sketch from Toulouse-Lautrec. Most of the Japanese prints are the same as the ones Monet is known to have owned.

The story is that the French Impressionists were heavily influenced by these new items that had just appeared with the American forced opening of Japan. The prints were suddenly available, and the French Impressionists bought and admired them. The show’s text suggests that Monet, Lautrec, and others incorporated the colors, lines, and positions of figures found in the Japanese prints into their works.

Although the curators did not include it in this display, PAM owns Hokusai’s famous Wave print. This show included many of his other works of Japanese print art from the same time. I thought it was a small but excellent show, and it is recommended.

The Wave needs to be presented in a darker light to protect it, and, according to the docent I spoke to, it would have distracted from the Monet. I saw an original on my last trip to Chicago, and it was in a dark corner of the museum. It is smaller, and the colors were darker than I expected.

One later Japanese print used a Western perspective, showing the reverse influence. I also saw a woodcut from 1894 of a Hokusai-like wave dumping an artist in his small boat with his easel. It suggested the French Impressionists were overwhelmed by these Japanese forms (Henri Gustave Jossot, La Vague). I laughed out loud and bought a postcard of the image later in the gift store. It is here.

I did view the 1960s art and outfits, but that did not interest me enough. While colorful and sort of interesting, I was still thinking about the mix of Japanese art and French Impressionists. The room of Portland-based rock posters was an interesting historical addition.

I stopped by the store and received blank looks when I asked if the prints of PAM’s one Monet lily pad painting for sale were made before or after the varnish removal. I wanted the new look. I got a card (I sent it to Mom Wild) and napkins, suspecting they are the previous look. I thought napkins were an odd way to celebrate Monet.

Next, I walked back through the park and tipped my hat to the folks still there. They commented on my white hat,  saying it was fetching. I opened the door to South Park Seafood bar, sat, and ordered some wine. I had their board of cold fish offerings. It all went well with wine and French Impressionists. It was a perfect sunny California day in Portland, Oregon. Not something we used to see a few years ago in April! I remember my roses blooming and melting away in the rain, not this year. Instead, I have new infections to deal with. Mostly, you cut this away and treat with care. You must ensure that you do not spread the fungus. Burning (!) is recommended for infected material.

The food was excellent, and I finished with a coffee and a separate shot of Amaretto. With the blues, reds, and yellows of Japanese and French art bouncing in my brain and the excellent food and drink bouncing in me, too, I found the train home and soon headed home. I was fine and soon was home, where a nap soon found me.

I keep forgetting to say that I have bagels from Susie’s Aunt Joyce from NYC from Zabar’s, and will need to acquire supplies (cream cheese and sliced cheese) to enjoy these for breakfast and dinner. I love a toasted tuna melt, though I often set it on fire when the cheese ignites in the broiler. It’s still good and easily and undestructively extinguished when removed from the broiler. It’s best to have a window open, though.

Rising, I found the kitchen again (it still has not moved), and I reheated the pasta and meatballs from yesterday for dinner. I talked to Deborah, and we locked in more of our trip to Anaheim in June. We also discovered that the Nixon Presidential Library is in the LA area. I learned that if you show a public transit card, you get a $2 discount at the tar pit museum, and I looked at taking trains and buses to get there. It looks like fun.

I also talked to Dondrea about working out dinner with her and Z on Thursday. We changed the location to Nonna Emilia Ristorante Italiano after I saw the amazingly LA-like prices at La Provence for dinner. I am going to have to learn to make croissants! Gaming was off for the night–play practice was extended for Z.

I also received new stamps for my collection, which I still maintain. With the passing of the Great Generation, also the greatest stamp collectors, their collections are being dumped online, mostly broken up, and I get a chance at some great discounts. I got a Confederate Stamp used (they are near valueless when unused, and we see fake cancels to increase values), a proof of an impossible to get stamp (there is only one known copy) that was in FDR’s album (!), and invert (my first) that I got at a significant (insane) discount. Easter apparently was not a good time to hold an auction, a buyer’s feast. I placed these in my albums (I have a Revenue album for the very specialized tax stamps) and my usual one with parts of my old Harris Album for Confederates (my Scott’s does not cover that).

I thought about a movie, but instead, I headed to Salt and Straw and had ice cream, mint with chocolate flakes (vegan positive), and then I walked the area and enjoyed the sunset. I then returned home in the EV.

With all this happiness, I was feeling better and more like myself. Meaning, sleep was hard to find. I finally slept around midnight. I woke at 3:15 to an alarm and sent a good morning message to Deborah, who was starting her day then. I fell back to sleep and missed her reply.

Thanks, dear reader, for putting up with 1900 words.