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I started the day at about 7:30, rolling over a few times and rising to prove hydration before finally rising. I was well-rested when I started my day. I soon found the liberal coffee and read the latest news soaked in Washington D.C. politics. Later, I would read posts on Facebook about the reaction to Trump/Vance and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s public dispute. It was interesting to read a positive viewpoint of Trump and his dealings with Ukraine, though I failed to agree with any of it. I like to see what people are thinking. And this included some of the World War 3 threats being explained, and again, I think it is plainly wrong and without merit; it was interesting to see how this was justified. I heard echoes of “Peace in our times” in the explanation.

I wrote the blog and showered. I stripped the bed and washed the sheets in The Machine, trusting it would not flood the house today. It did not. I would later remake the bed with the sheets in the linen closet. The sheets did not fit; they were the wrong sheets–I have new sheets for the standard-sized bed too.

I showered, shaved, dressed, and headed to US Bank for an appointment via Air VF the Gray still at 80% charge. I met a younger man, Taylor, who helped me roll over my CD to 4.22% for five months. We then talked about money, and he said he had worked at US Bank for three years. Taylor explained that US Bank’s new savings account was paying 3.5% for large balances, which includes my CD in its calculations. I growled that this was my rate when I set up my first savings account, and then US Bank cut the rate. I was not instantly approved, to Taylor’s surprise. With no income or job, nothing is instant for me anymore. The account was approved overnight, and on Wednesday morning, I transferred the money and finished setting up the account using US Bank online banking. Nick and Sam from US Bank Wealth Management will meet with me on Friday morning to see what they can offer. Nick called me to set it up after getting a note from Taylor. I am looking to roll over my 401K to an IRA and begin slow withdrawals that are tax efficient.

With the interest from the CD moved to my checking account and waiting for my new account with better interest, I headed to Hillsboro. It was a pleasant drive, though traffic was heavy for lunchtime. I found a parking spot by the courthouse; Hillsboro is the county seat. I walked in sunlight after an Oregon Mist-filled morning to Cornerstone Tax, paid my bill, and picked up my finished taxes. They will transmit the results, and I need to pay Fed just under $1000, get a few grand back from Oregon, and a mysterious $125 from Portland.

I returned home, found an Acererak stamp (US Postage did a Dungeons and Dragons set of stamps, and the villain Acererak is one of the images), wrote the check for the taxes, and sent the payment (and Acererak) to the IRS–done! I called David S and wished him a happy Mardi Gras, and then he said, “What did you really call for?” and told him my taxes were done. “I knew it,” he said with a laugh. I have done this to him for years. I finish before he starts and call him. We laugh, and I wish him good luck with his family’s taxes.

I reviewed The Dummies Guide to Pre-calculus and prepared to meet with Corwin for math teaching. I reheated the jambalaya, and sadly, it was not as good. As warned in my classes in The Big Easy, the spices had changed. It was hotter, but the flavors faded against the heat. The New Orleans Cooking School recommends making their dishes flavorful and letting folks add the heat. Still, it was Fat Tuesday, and jambalaya still worked for me.

Corwin showed up while I was talking to Deborah on the phone, and they exchanged greatings; the phone was on speaker. Deborah rang off, and I started on math. Corwin had no lunch, so I warmed up my leftover couscous, chicken, and couscous sauce. It is delicious, and Corwin is then able to focus. We cover functions and transformation of the parent functions (i.e., f(x)=x², f(x)=|x|, and so on). I gave Corwin the problem text I found, and we reviewed which ones to do. There are about fifty. Corwin will work them this week and bring back any problems or failed ones for me to see if there is a pattern to any mistakes and to explain anything.

Corwin heads back home, fed and ready to do math, and Deborah and I chat (I call her back) while I dress for dinner. After discussing and checking various prices, we decided to stay in the same hotel. It is not much more, and it was a nice hotel. I will later add my driving hotels in Mount Shasta and the Fresno area for my trip to and from in my EV. Yes, I am going to drive an EV from Portland to LA!

I rang off from Deborah when Corwin arrived. I put on my gold vest and NOLA tie, find my pocket watch, and get that on, too. I use a summer hat to finish the Mardi Gras look. Corwin gets a tie, too, and sports a dress shirt. We headed to BJs Brewhouse (Mariha was ill) for drinks and a celebration of NOLA and me finishing my taxes. Eric is our waiter, and they work out a Sambuca Sazerac (they have no Absinth) for us. It was wonderful.

I had the full rack of ribs (and brought some home for lunch), while Corwin had the ribeye steak. My dinner was remade as somehow the ribs were cold (Eric and the manager were shocked). The second try was perfect. Coffee followed the drinks (one was enough!). It was a grand celebration.

We returned home, and Corwin, stuffed, headed off to the gym. I read and soon was in bed early, reading and falling asleep. TripIt was updated with my plans. I looked at possible events but could not understand how to connect to them from our hotel in Long Beach. I thought it best to wait and schedule items there. Deborah has four days of conferences that I can use to learn about the area. I will become her personal trip advisor in consultation with the locals.

With hotels, trips, and driving in my head, I soon stopped reading and slept. Thanks for reading!

Going backward, the soy sauce bottle crashed on the floor, the bottom broke off, and the floor was covered in salty brown stuff intermixed with broken glass. This was not my plan at 11:30ish at night. I do not remember why I opened the frig and reached in and knocked it off the shelf. Dripping with soy sauce, I stripped off my PJs and cleaned the mess. I threw the PJs at The Machine, returned to the bedroom, put on a clean pair of PJs, crawled back into my covers, and returned to Elric stories. I soon was sleepy and put away the book. I slept and dreamed forgotten dreams, none including Elric’s soul-destroying sword. I woke twice for proof of hydration.

Before all this, I was at Wildwood Taphouse, delivered by Air VW the Gray, still charged over 80%, and had “beers as black as my soul. ” In this case, I must have had some cinnamon in my soul, as the beer was sweet and spicy, reminding me of Christmas and not of doomscrolling. I enjoyed the small glass (these are high-alcohol beers that are best to sip and enjoyed in small glasses). I revised my story “Chat Holmes and Watson” that I wrote as a distraction to grief and cancer recovery in 2023-2024. The copyright for the detectives has expired, and thus, I thought I should give it a try.

This was my fourth or fifth edit and writing, and I usually stop there. You got it by then, or it is best to forget it. I made a few updates and let Grammarly find things that Grammarly did not find a year ago, the last time I worked on it. Nothing that bad. I rewrote a few poorly formed sentences after Grammarly replaced them, losing their meaning. Yikes, the AI needs to come with an undo button!

I added more to the ending, which also was lighted up in red by Grammarly as it was new and had not been reread with much care by my year-ago self (red is bad and needs to be fixed, blue is suggestion, red for a paragraph means a subroutine of Grammarly wants to rewrite it all–all can be very exciting). I made corrections and then let Grammarly weed out some superfluous wording, though I retained some as the Holmes and Watson canon used more words we use now. I made a point of leaving in more decoration words at the start and then letting the story become more compact as it goes on. It is as if the chat version of the storyteller, Watson, becomes increasingly modern as he becomes more integrated into his new reality.

I liked the story and sent it to 2600 Magazine, The Hacker’s Quarterly, to see if they wanted it. They published my last couple-thousand-word SciFi story. According to professional writers, I am doing this backward. You should pitch a story, and when someone buys it, then write it. Being retired, I can write what I like and then see if someone will publish it (for free or, in this case, a year’s subscription or a T-shirt). I got confirmation that the PDF arrived, and I am being considered (with all the warnings that if they can’t read the text, you will get nothing).

Before this, I made dinner. I baked some chicken thighs, boneless and skinless, with Moroccan-style spices. I made couscous with spices, almond slivers, and raisins. I heated couscous sauce from North Africa from a bottle. I put the couscous in a bowl, covered it with sliced chicken, and then covered that with sauce. I had a salad to go with it, adding green olives to make it fit the theme. I might have had two bowls. Much was left over as I cooked four thighs and plenty of couscous. It makes a great reheated leftover. It looked like the kitchen had been blown up when I was done. I left the dishes for the house elves (sadly, I did the dishes on Tuesday morning).

Before this, I was at Safeway. I wrote a list and wandered from it occasionally but tried to be frugal. I am not very good at being frugal. Eggs were interesting. The excellent and heirloom eggs were $6.99 for twelve in a see-thru plastic holder showing 11 blueish eggs and one reddish. The regular large white eggs in the usual paper container that easily opens and dumps your eggs from the usual supplier were $6.99. Confused as to what to do, I picked the heirloom eggs. Why not?

With my list completed, plus a few extras, Aws checked me out. He was happy to see me. Aws, a legal immigrant from Iraq and a previous war, and I discussed the cost of eggs. He spoke of his hope that the new President would make it easier for the middle class with a tax cut or other help. While I let him know I am not for President Trump, I agreed that Trump kept his promises before (though I disagreed with much he did), and there was hope. It is hard for a liberal like myself to give support like this, but folks need hope, and maybe it will work out.

Before this, I called the towing company, and they picked up the Volvo, which is now the property of Oregon Public Broadcasting. I hope they can get some money for it. I had thrown on some clothing and dropped the papers off at the dealership that still had the ruined XC60. Everything was in order, and I will likely just get a gift receipt in the future.

I wrote the blog all morning and enjoyed coffee with a banana and a biscuit I made the night before.

And that takes us to the start of the morning at 7ish. Thanks for reading!

I woke to my alarm, rose around 7, and found coffee and a banana for breakfast. The coffee, liberal and Equal Exchange brand, was good. I wrote quickly and soon finished the story describing Saturday by 10 and published it. Next, I showered, shaved, and dressed for church. Seeing that Fat Tuesday is this week and missing New Orleans (NOLA), I stopped by Donut Day on TV Highway and bought a dozen donuts, half of which were very colorful for Mardi Gras (March 4th this year). The owner, whom I have not seen in years, was happy to see me. We both are a bit older now.

Armed with colorful donuts, I head to the First United Methodist Church near the park in Beaverton, sporting my NOLA tie. The cake donuts do not make it to the worship service, and the colorful donuts are much reduced by the time service is over. I see there was no usher today; I filled in.

I sit in the back as we have a homeless guy with a donut (just one bite) and some coffee. From his looks, he is on the other side of some substance that seemed like a good idea when he took it, but now he is rough. He is a young and strong man, so I stay back in case of a problem or if he needs help.

Pastor Ken, as usual, dives for the coffee and enjoys what is left of the cake donuts. The man heads to the restroom and then walks the long distance to the men’s room (I have no comment on how this church is laid out). The pastor for our other renting church, which has Spanish service (we host two congregations each Sunday, one in the chapel and one before us in the sanctuary), helps the man. The guy, stumbling, walks out of the church. I later checked (I had a question to answer) that he was not lying outside needing help–I did not see him.

Another person spotted me outside and asked to use the restroom. I escorted her to the requested facilities inside the church and waited near the door to ensure she was OK. “The library is not open until 1,” was the explanation. I agreed, as the library hours have tricked me a few times. Soon, gal was on her way. It was communion, and soon, I was walking to help. I also did the offering and put away the money. It was a busy day for ushering!

Pastor Ken preached on Revelations 21, a passage about the New Jerusalem. The passage includes the two famous phrases I think the best outside the gospels: “I am Alpha and Omega,” and “he will every tear from their eyes.” Ken described the passage of God, explaining that this is the model of a city and how God would have cities. A place of light that has no night. Where all the old things pass away and all is new. It is an extraordinary vision and one of the few in the Book of Revelations not prone to Hollywood-like imagination and strange interpretations.

Next, I headed to The 649 Taphouse in Aloha for lunch and a beer. Air VW the Gray was fully charged the night before; I did not park at the library chargers. I included putting the Apple in the EV in my morning execution. I got a red ale and chicken quesadilla and worked on my Holmes and Watson story. But it was missing. I spent the next couple of hours searching for it. I could not find it. I was unable to complete anything; I was unhappy.

I returned home, connected my backup device, and searched Time Machine for December 2024. Nothing. There, I noticed that it also covers iCloud storage. I discovered a later version in iCloud that had my revisions. Wow! My theory is that the iCloud was not connected when I was searching at The 649.

I renamed the document to include a version number and saved it on iCloud and Apple! Yay! It is over 2,500 words, reformatted as I remember, and ready for more work. Excellent!

Deborah and I chat on the phone while I make dinner. Tonight, I fry and roast a pork chop (slightly overdone despite the temperature readings, but still good). I steam fresh green beans and wilt them in butter, almond slices, and garlic powder (I am out of fresh garlic). Lastly, I boil and mash (with skins) potatoes with butter and some milk. I make a pan sauce for the taters. I should have started them earlier, and dinner waits for them to cook. Deborah rings off, and I enjoy a fine repast.

I read more Elric, reaching the end of the first ‘book’ in this composite version, which contains four previously published books. The second story, the Fortress of the Pearl, is not a favorite, and I manage only some of it before I am ready to find something else to do.

I decided to make biscuits with all the flour and powders I recently received from King Arthur Flour Company. I did not have milk, so I went to Plaid Pantry and paid too much for milk. I did not ask how much the eggs were. I suspect I would need a security escort for those. I mixed it all up to the recipe from King Arthur’s website. I baked them without brushing them with melted butter. They were good, but I would cut the salt by half (I do not use much salt and am overly sensitive to it now–most folks would be okay with it) and brush them. Still good.

With a few biscuits inside me—one on a plate on the bed that I tasted while reading—I shower and crawl into bed. I read but soon slept. I dreamed of travelling and Deborah joining me on strange trains and buses to places I did not know. Most of the dreams have faded.

Thanks for reading!

I rose on Saturday with only the plans to receive flour and other goodies from King Arthur Flour Company and to see Z at her birthday party (she turned 14 on 28 Feb). As is my habit on Friday, I did the four days of laundry, and I put away clean clothing on Saturday morning. I washed my robe and a few items from yesterday. I doom scrolled, what us liberals call reading the news from the USA–primarily drenched in politics, updated my transactions in Quicken, and checked my 401K, trading in a narrow 1% range for months.

I expect the market to not change and certainly won’t rise. Our activist Federal Reserve may decide to raise interest rates as inflation is driven by events (i.e., bird flu, tariffs, trade wars, loss of control by the US government as it partially shut down from cuts and funding issues), so diving for financial cover is difficult. It seems to be a belt-in and hold-on. President Trump wants cheap money, and I expect he will ‘fire’ the Fed after that. The Bank of the USA may be recreated (with all the exciting risk) and be controlled, again, by congress and the President. The Federal Reserve notes currency replaced with new USA bills or Trump Bitcoins. Escape Pods are unavailable for me (or you, dear reader).

Leta, my mother-in-law has already worked out that she can live just on her teachers retirement when Social Security Checks stop coming (i.e., they fire the people who run the checks so nobody can send them, they bankrupt the USA next month with a default on debts, or other unexpected results of the executive orders and chaos in the USA government). Leta said she did not want to live through another Great Depression, but she sees all the signs of one coming. Leta, and others, are scared, “I don’t want to do the 1950s or 1930s again!”

Aside: Yes, I know some of my readers have a different opinion of what is happening in Washington and the US Government. I respect your right to believe what you want in the USA. The blog is what I experience from my point of view and is not meant to be a political statement.

I wrote the blog for the morning and skipped breakfast (all those bowls of jambalaya had me still full), just freshly ground coffee, locally roasted. It was another sunny, bright morning, and it seemed less cold. I soon opened the doors. I showered, shaved, and dressed. I reheated leftover jambalaya from yesterday (Tuesday is Fat Tuesday) and enjoyed it for lunch.

The flour, lots of it, mixes, and even soup mixes arrived. I put it all away. I am ready for more baking!

It was too nice a day to write (though I published the blog), so I boarded Air VW the Gray. I then headed to Cornell Farms, a family-owned nursery in the West Hills overlooking the Tualtin Valley (the valley I live in). It is lovely and has many things I think I need and some I would love to have, but the price keeps it a nice dream. I also no longer dig holes with my balance issues (no ladders, either) since the brain surgery. So anything I buy Corwin or someone else has to ‘install.’

For a Saturday, the travel was in moderate traffic, and the place was flooded with others like me who can be fair-weather gardeners. In my defense, I was there in the rain and the cold. I saw a huge BMW SUV back out of a ‘Compact Only’ space, blocking traffic in the complex parking areas (there are three little lots, all at different heights and skill levels). More of an unmooring than a pulling out. After two attempts and not missing any paint from others (including wheeled carts and people), the BMW was released, and a line of cars followed that had to give way for the full-sized SUV. I found an easier parking location and revelled in the smaller footprint of the ID.4 that I now drive. It is smaller, and the cameras and windows make it a pleasure to park.

I walked the gardens and sales area three times and enjoyed the options. I met David on the staff, and he agreed I should wait until I return from my March trip before planting a pomegranate tree in my backyard. Later, I found a propagated clipping of their colossal rose bush, now just beyond the twig phase, a bourbon rose bush that will grow 8′ tall. Yes! They had two left, and I took the more solid-looking one. Later, I called Corwin, and he said he would dig a hole as the selected location was filled with stones. I enjoyed a coffee and a cookie from their café. I managed to release my parking spot without causing a parking SNAFU; I tried to ignore all the vast and expensive SUVs parked (moored) in compact spaces.

At home, I got supplies from the garage, tried digging the small hole, and discovered the rocks. This will have to wait. I did take the rose fertilizer and spread it on the backyard roses. The tulips are starting, and while last year’s wet took some, most survived. I am happy to see them rising.

I reheated some more leftovers, pizza this time. I continued to read Elric stories and eat. I read on the cover that this book I found in Seattle is the corrected version of the story and published in the correct sequence. I had noticed that a later story, 1989, was in the middle of the book. Later, Michael Moorecock wrote a half-joke story of an intervention of a traveller in Elric’s story. It was fun. I am glad to see it placed in this book. I remember buying it and devouring a new Elric tale in the 1980s (The originals are from the 1960s).

I put away Elric and headed to Dondrea and Z’s place for Z’s birthday celebration. I arrived without much traffic and soon was munching on incredible cupcakes decorated with frosting moss and mushrooms. The cakes were books and moss and mushrooms. Dondrea is a master cake maker.

I stayed for a while, and Z liked the metal dragon coins and realistic resources for her copy of the board game Wrymspan. I was tired, and I even nodded off while reading and slept an hour in the afternoon. I returned home after hugs and offers of more cake—I demurred.

At home, I got the mail, which was slow, and got my earthquake insurance policy renewal. For just under $700 a year, I can get the house rebuilt for up to $744,000 with a 10% deductible (which I must spend first) and only $10,000 of required upgrades from the state/county. Hmmm. It is all that is offered now.

I reworked my TripIt version of Deborah and my trip to California. I also completed a driving plan—I intend to take Air VW the Gray to California. I am looking at Fresno, as I need to stop twice to limit driving to no more than 8 hours a day. Fresno is four hours from Long Beach; it works as a second stopover.

I soon read more Elric and then showered and read more, a super brain cookie. But, I feel my inner writer wants to return to my stories. I think I will drink deeply from Moorcock’s stories. I sleep after turning page after page.

I wake and have trouble sleeping. I seem fully awake, but soon sleeping again. I dream of being drafted and working for Trump and Musk in some workforce. I remember the furniture was all white, plain IKEA, as the lack of planning had us provide our own bunks and storage shelving and assemble them. I discovered I had ‘volunteered’ for a marathon (it came with the award first as that was how it was done now, I was told by Elon via an email) and needed to get in shape, and Clint was sending me texts on how to get in shape. Deborah was in a Michigan-based workforce and sending me advise too. I woke shaking my head. Yikes!

Thanks for reading!

I was tired from Thursday’s adventures and slept in late, after 8:30. I rose and made local liberal coffee, Equal Exchange, and then started my morning as usual. I read the doom-laden news and updated my transactions in Quicken. I was happy to hear from my accountant the previous evening that my taxes were nearly done. Cornerstone Tax Service in Hillsboro got them done in about a week. Excellent. I owe $1,000 and am looking at a refund of $2,000 from the state of Oregon. Nearly perfect, though I had made a substantial prepayment for a quarter when I realized that my interest and dividend earnings had no withholding and my refunds for last year were counting, too.

(Susie’s flower opened today)

I am looking forward to finishing 2024.

I started on the blog, running late already, and it was a long account as Thursday was packed. I wrote until almost noon. I spoke to Deborah and texted here and there. After a break, I showered, shaved, dressed, and was ready to start my afternoon. It is a no-sale day for us liberals, meaning I limited my purchases to local, a few items I could only get at a retailer, and a chance to walk.

Air VW the Gray got me to Powell’s without incident, and I walked through the store a few times. After deciding to pass on a Sunday School class, I resisted a few interesting books on New Testament Greek. My timing for the class did not work—I am traveling often, and thus, I will move on to other things. I have plenty to do!

Mary Beard had a new paperback book on Rome, Emperor of Rome, and I got a copy for about $22. I only buy books about history, gaming stuff, have lots of footnotes, or are about magic tricks. Fiction and so on are usually in my Kindle. I have not yet worked out my library membership, but I will try to get that working soon.

I also got a lovely chocolate bar, as Powell’s Beaverton has a large candy section and other items that are hard to resist. I stopped by New Season’s and bought the minimal items I needed: shrimp and sausage for jambalaya. It was a warm and sunny day, and I wanted to cook something from The Big Easy. I noticed that the store was nearly empty.

(Notice the words in the glass.)

Next door is the furniture and stuff store City Home. Chaz, I talked to the sales folks, and they told me this was their newest and largest store. They also just put out some new items.

(When I saw this setup, I thought of my sister. When I sent her a photo, she thanked me for decorating my guest room to her taste. I left the stuff at the store. I was tempted by other items.)

I stopped at The 185th Corner veggie place and loaded up; it is a local place. For $24, I had a large bag of green freshness (I would have paid twice that or more at New Season’s). I then spotted their coffee and got a bag for too much. I have to grind it. It was lovely and locally roasted.

I finished Kolchak: The Nightstaker by Jim Rice. I liked the story and the style and can recommend it if you can find it. This book is about all that the author was paid for. It was a different time in the 1970s, and an author often went unpaid. The author’s estate copyrighted this book from a Kickstarter created by a fan.

I started Elric of Melniboné, and this version, a collection of the first books, has most of the stories in the correct order. I forgot how much I liked Michael Moorcock’s writing and appreciated a book in the proper order. A brain cookie and I picked up this volume, of two, in Seattle’s Pike Place Market in the used bookstore B L M F Literary Saloon. The second volume is still there, waiting for my return. A reason to return.

I chopped the onions, crying intensely, celery, green pepper, and garlic. I located rice and other items in the pantry and seasoning shelf. I primarily followed the New Orleans School of Cooking recipe and my memory of Chef Reneé’s instructions for Jambalaya. I could hear his laughter and locally accented voice as I chopped, ordered, assembled, and finally cooked. Mine was more fresh-tasting than the smokey flavor of Reneé’s version, with a slight kick, but still good. I used the chef’s trick of adding some veggies at the end to create a bite. I called Corwin, and he came over and had some; he pronounced it good. He took a large container with most of the shrimp (I used pealed and deveined shrimp). As I get older, shrimp has less appeal to me (unintentionally punned). The next version will host the addition of muscles, clams, and a white fish.

Corwin and I tried the new coffee after grinding it. ‘Gather, Darkness’ was perfect with the food. I must admit I had three bowls. I put Deborah on speaker, and she spoke with us for a while as we enjoyed New Orleans-style deliciousness. I finished the dishes; Corwin had done most of them. Then, I returned to reading.

I read until after midnight, enjoying my trip back to Melniboné. I thought it would be fun to tell precursor stories to Elric, but I will settle for the complex tales from the existing canon. I had trouble putting the book down.

I soon slept, and while I cannot remember my dreams, I suspect I walked the dreaming city of Imrryr on the Island of Melniboné and maybe caught a few sounds of the song of pain, and my heart quickened like a native.

Thanks for reading.