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I always feel guilty when I have a quiet day, little is done on my projects, or the house is not cleaned. Thursday was one of these non-productive days. Doom scrolling, what we liberals call reading the news, brought forth more illogical changes to the US government by the Trump folks (it is vague if this is the administration, 2025 Project, or an extra government process), including defunding science, health programs, and military changes. The specific ‘crime’ of the National Security Agency chief was his appointment by Biden. No reason was given in the press other than a vague charge of disloyalty to President Trump. The political danse macabe continues.

The news on the financial front is like a view of Niagara Falls—majestic, loud, and hard not to watch. Yes, there is a lot of loud falling. However, the view is different for some of us with significant retirements in the market (I am mostly in cash). It is from the barrel headed to the falls. It is a fantastic view from the barrel and likely an unrepeatable experience, and something we would prefer not to do. F**k.

I assembled the coffee the night before and let the new Coffee Machine perform an automated operation beginning at 7. Thus, when I rose, more like a vampire than my usual popping out of the sheets, I found the kitchen (it seemed to be in the same location, but seemed further away) and enjoyed the Fair Trade already prepared coffee. I took the croissant, sliced it, and plated it with a banana. Coffee in my cup, liberal, I was ready to face the world.

As usual, I wrote the blog and listened to Kink.fm on my computer. This has been my go-to radio station since I moved to Oregon. The programming has changed often, but I still like their mix. I do not enjoy their obviously paid repeated playing of certain songs. The endlessly played song, Vampire, that I actually liked is no longer played. They did it for months, often playing it twice an hour, and now it is gone from their playlist. I still listen and like most of what they play. I like to hear the new stuff mixed with older items such as Teddy Swims played against Dave Mathews Band.

I wrote for the morning, published the blog, showered, shaved, etc. I also read more of the 1936 Battle of Jutland book authored by an American naval officer. The author spent the first chapters setting the stage of WWI and even quoted (again without footnotes!) some other books or referred to some (again without notes). If this book had been carefully footnoted, I suspect it would be read and remembered as a great work. As it is, I am not sure I will finish it. Better books are out there on Jutland 1916 (many new and most extensively footnoted with some even pointing out mistakes in the original sources). Still, the writing is engaging, and his comments are interesting. So maybe I will finish it.

I met Scott for lunch at Cedar Hills McMenamins for a few beers and a burger. Yesterday, I was there and had the no-meat Mystic Burger, but this time, I went with the Captain Neon Burger (meat burger, blue cheese, bacon). Scott and I talked about our travels, both planned and executed. We are both watching the market (see comment above about being in a barrel) and, in Scott’s words, getting more popcorn as we wait for what next crazy will come from Trump and Company (or is it ‘Elon and Company & Trump’).

After a few beers and little sleep the night before, I must admit I slept. I had called into a US Bank call on the markets and nodded off as the platitudes and calming voices worked on me. Not only did I not sell anything, but I was sleeping! Perfect. I had it on mute, so my snoring was not broadcast. With my Wealth Management account for my 401K, I find I have more access to calls on investments. I called my investment manager and told him I was fine, had nothing to say but ‘good luck’, and would let them do their job.

I binge-watched the last four episodes of the Disney+ first season of the Star Wars show Andor while drinking some reheated coffee to wake up. I reheated the pasta and chicken I had made a few days before, but I was not that hungry, and most went to the trash.

Deborah called at the end of her night, and we talked awhile. We planned some events for my trip, including a cooking class for my birthday on Friday (next week) and watching an opera on Sunday (next weekend). Deborah rang off as she was sleepy (she still works and raises early). Our drug of choice when meeting is coffee. One of us will need it with me in Pacific time and Deborah in Eastern time (three hours difference).

I finished my binge-watching and look forward to the next season’s release (it’s after Easter). I read more Jutland. I got through another chapter. I put the dishes away and could write my story in the house, clean, or do something.

I decided that more beer, yes, dear reader, more beer, was a good idea and headed to Wildwood Taphouse. JR was there recently, back from a driving trip to Arizona. We were happy to see each other. We had a few beers and chatted. I had planned to write, but the energy at the bar was electric, and it was more fun to meet people and talk to JR. It was someone’s birthday, the taphouse is known to be pro-dog, and there was a mass of doggies, mostly well behaved. Beer, pets, treats for dogs, and birthday cake were distributed. I felt better.

While we chatted over the noise, JR’s eyes got damp several times. He lost his wife six months ago. I know, though each person’s experience of loss and grief is unique, what it is like after six months and you begin to realize this is your life now. It feels so unreal. It is not lonely or depressing; it is just unexpected, and there are so many little details to handle and decisions to make. It felt like a slow spin to me. My eyes get damp a few times a day and often when I don’t expect it. Frequently, my voice cracks unexpectedly sometimes as the emotions rise without warning. I know, as JR, that time will lessen occurrences, but I can say that the tears or moist eyes have yet to stop. I am not sure I want them to.

With closing time approaching and me changing to water, I said my goodbyes, and EV took me home. I soon was in bed and remembered I had only a few hours of sleep last night. I closed my book, and in a blink, I was asleep. I soon joined some party in my dreams and woke up happy on Friday. The dreams are forgotten, but it was a good rest. I could smell the coffee; I had assembled the coffee before I headed to bed.

 

 

I spent much of Wednesday haunted by a headache, which was likely caused by allergies; painkillers were in use. I was still unwinding from the long drives, too.

I rose after 7, and the coffee was ready when I found the kitchen; it had not moved. The weather, while not gray and totally overcast, the usual for the long March-April-May-June rain festival we used to get, included now broken clouds with sprinkles here and there. My tulips are ready to bloom, and more have appeared, and my rose bushes are breaking into new growth and bushing. My lawn service has edged, mowed, and cleaned up, and my backyard looks marvelous.

I wrote the blog after texting Deborah a good morning, signaling to her that the Pacific Northwest Time Zone is awake. I updated my transactions in Quicken. Mortgage, insurance, credit card payments, and utilities all seem to hit at the first of the month. I made toast with my homemade milk bread, poured liberal Fair Trade coffee into my cup, and found a banana to go with it.

Aside: Yesterday’s blog was the words were ‘fairly traded’ coffee, which might have been Grammarly AI not knowing what ‘Fair Trade’ was or I typed it wrong and nothing caught it. Deborah noticed it and let me know.

I wrote the blog and struggled with Grammarly missing spelling issues, but instead, the AI suggested a rewrite of my sentences. Still, instead of improving them, it was just changing the means, often to nonsensible wordings. I also discovered that I would select a minor update and discover words changed. Yikes!

I also started a rewrite of my first chapter and corrected the voicing to align better. I had slipped into an IT-guy narration of a system instead of storytelling. In other words, it was boring.

I reread the blog twice and made many more corrections (including missing Fairly Traded). I managed to get the blog published and, without rushing, was soon showered, shaved, dressed, and boarding Air VW the Gray. I headed to Cedar Hills Crossing and McMenamins for a beer and burger. I selected the Mystic burger, a non-meat product that is wonderful when fried like a patty over flames. I spoke to the manager there, and the Theology Pub room is booked for next Thursday (10 April starting at 6:30 for ten), but I will be flying to Michigan that day and will miss it.

I returned home. I rested a bit as the headache was a struggle. I got more painkillers and felt better. I added the board game Ruins of Arnak to our game choices in the EV’s cargo hold, had some crackers and hummus for a snack (I wanted to get some food with the painkillers), and watched more Star Wars episodes of Andor. I had forgotten much of this; it is a tour of the dark parts of the early times of the Star Wars Empire.

I headed to First United Methodist Church of Beaverton in the VW. I parked and walked to the nearby coffee place. Prices are higher now; for $20, they have a special of a coffee, sandwich, and a cookie, and that is what I selected. The turkey cheddar sandwich was recommended, and I got mine to go. I was not hungry after the snack and sat outside under a tent listening to the rain while I ate 1/2 a sandwich.

Soon, Dondrea, Z, and others showed. After a back-and-forth discussion, Z and I selected Scythe to play. We set it up for two, Andrew showed, and we added him. I quickly redid a teach as both of them had played before. I helped a few times, but soon Z and Andrew were pushing out on the map. Andrew started to push out, and Z, playing Blue (Norse), felt trapped between me, playing White (Poland), and Andrew, playing Red (Russia).

Scythe is a steampunk 4x game (4x explained here), and soon, conflicts and discoveries were telling. Battles were fought all over, and soon, all the players had battle stars. I had evacuated to my base area, but I was still chased down there! Andrew had to leave about 1/2 through the game, and Z got to play two factions against me. Z was fair and played them separately. As White (Poland), I get two choices from encounters and use this to build faster. Also, with the amount of combat I was taking (having lost most battles), my forces were centralized (losing move the defeated piece back to your starting base). I was three stars from ending the game. I was able to gain all three in one turn as I finished two items from my player board and a goal card, ending the game abruptly and winning with a score of 53 with zero popularity and two combat stars (officially making me a ‘Warlord’ in the types of winning track). Red (Andrew and then Z) was closer and, with more time, would have won. Blue (Z) failed to spread out but could have, and that would have scored high, but again, that would have required more time. It was good that I stopped the game when I did!

I was keyed up by coffee and the game. I watched two more Andor episodes (it is excellent) and went to bed late. I could not sleep. Read more Jutland from the American Commander published in 1936 and was surprised how close this book matches my current reading of WW1. There are hints of American First (the old one) as the author seems to appreciate the Central Powers’ position more. The book has no footnotes, which makes it less valuable to me. Still, the bibliography is detailed and lists many sources I have never even seen mentioned before, including the mysterious reference to the British Office of Stationary reports on Jutland.

I look forward to reading the analysis and facts presented in this time capsule of a book. Already, the book’s introduction mentions the handling of gunpowder as a problem for the British. With the story, often repeated, that the Germans learned to improve their handling of gunpowder after they nearly lost a battlecruiser in the Battle of Dogger’s Bank. I also learned that he affected battlecruiser, thinking it was doomed, fired it guns repeatedly to get off as many shells as possible, somehow firing in ten seconds. This I have never read before. I will have to check this story. It was indirectly claimed that the British battleship Lion was thus disabled and Tiger damaged by this desperate act. This sounds rather romantic.

The author ignores that the Germans had to run from the battle or be destroyed and that mis-signals caused the functional British battle cruisers to concentrate their fire on the doomed cruiser, Blücher. Had the British followed up with their attacks on the battle cruisers, it would have been a 4 to 3 fight with one German ship badly damaged; only luck would have saved the German ships. The author does say it was wrong to use the cruiser on this raid (it was).

Aside: The Germans ‘donated’ the battlecruiser Goeben to the Turks at the start of the war (the ship’s story here). Had they instead sent the Blücher, the battle would have been even (and the cruiser would still have been helpful as a ‘gift’ to the Turks), and with the proper gunnery and better German armor, it might have changed history. It is one of the gaming solutions, what-if scenarios, I mean to try someday. It would have been a bloody fight, and with Beatty not using his advantage of longer ranged guns and not training his gunner well, it could have gone to the Germans.

I must have slept as the time went from 1 to 5:30 in a blink and then to 6:30 in another blink. I remember no dreams, just waking. Though I felt like I had traveled somewhere and had just come back–dreams of Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

Tuesday mornings are a rush as I have a game at Richard’s in Portland at 9:30. I rose before my alarm, turned it off, and rose before 7. I then waited for the coffee to start. I was programmed to start 7; I defeated the purpose of having a timed coffee by starting my day too early. With my trip on Thursday next week (just over a week away), I am being careful about baking and cooking. I am running out of bread, but do I make another loaf? Humm.

I started the blog and finished about 80% by 8:30, but it was time to shower, shave, and dress. I did not rush, and soon, I was appropriate for public consumption and got into Air VW the Gray with an 86% charge. I had not reset it to charge over 80%, so the charging all night did nothing but light some diode lights that the charging was done. Growl.

The trip into Portland was more usual with 35 mph speed on 26 inbound to Portland, and no sudden stops for me, though I saw smoke pouring out of the breaks for a large truck that some nut passed, changed into its lane, and then slammed their brakes. All this was done at low speeds and very short distances, which is very much something you only see in Portland.

I arrived at Richards a few minutes late but before James. It is Mansion of Madness 2nd Edition again. Richard and James had played this last week and failed. I picked, as usual, a spellcaster, and we returned to a cooperative (mostly, unless you go insane) board game based on Lovecraft’s mythos and, for these later made scenarios, horror films and books. My spell removed insanity, but also, if I failed a roll, it would hurt my character. And I spent most of the game missing my rolls. I did keep the other players in the game until the very end. We erred on the final conflict, a terrible monster rose, and my character was by bad luck to be right with the creature. My character was slain after taking terrible damage (on more failed rolls), and James and Richard could not finish the quest in time as we had erred. Next time!

I returned home in the EV in light traffic. I had purchased some cubed steaks, and Corwin was planned to be over at 2 for math lessons. I steamed asparagus and microwaved some potatoes. I chopped celery, carrots, and pickled beets for a large salad. I salvage my lettuce from ten days ago. I fried the steaks in the non-stick pan.

The pan was not hot enough, and the steaks were more cooked than fried. Next time, I will use the cast iron pan and get it smoking hot. I made pan gravy in the frying pan, adding butter. When I added water, I discovered the ants had found the corn starch, as the little guys floated to the top. I tossed the corn starch and the cornmeal next to it. I have not had ants in that cabinet before. Hmmm. I used flour instead.

My repast was excellent. Corwin was a no-show. I called, and he decided to put off the math; he is looking for a new apartment and cannot find the focus for pre-calculus now. I still offered him a late lunch or early dinner, and he would be over after donating plasma (another source of income).

I sorted the mail and put away the liberal coffee from Portland’s Equal Exchange warehouse. Today’s coffee was fair-traded but purchased at Safeway. I love the taste of liberalism in the morning, having drunk fair exchanged coffee nearly every morning since President Trump won his first election. We liberals need to remember to keep going. The world will someday find Justice with Compassion and the Love of Community. I see Hope at the bottom of every cup. It will work someday! Drink deep of liberal coffee!

While I was away, the lawn service has cleaned up the yard. It looks marvelous. In the spring, they come weekly on Tuesdays. I do the dishes and run the dishwasher. I have accumulated enough dirty items to run it full.

I watch more Andor on Disney+ and nod off. I am sleepy and nap in my chair. A text from Deborah wakes me. We have both been busy and have had only a short call and a few texts this Tuesday. Corwin is here at dinner time and reheats the food. Deborah calls while Corwin eats, and we chat in private and sometimes on speaker with us all chatting together. Deborah, on Eastern Time, is ready for bed (she rises early and works for a living), and we say good night. Corwin heads home after stacking his dishes. I board Air VW the Gray with a hat and my new Columbia light coat and head to The 649.

It is trivia night, and I find a table in the corner to hide. Crystal and Natalia are on today, with Crystal closing. I get a beer and tell them about my trip to LA with Deborah. They love the photos. Natalia loves to drive to California and shares how she travels there. She agrees that Northern California’s Lake Shasta and the volcano park are worth doing. She loved to camp there and had hiked the volcano vent paths.

The trivia is loud, and I did listen a few times, but mostly, I ignored it and wrote. Over the night, I reached my goal of 3,000 words for chapter one. The voicing is different than the first half of the chapter, and I may have to do a rewrite (I started aligning the voicing this morning), but still, the words and story are written and thus exist. I invent more of the history and magic of my fantasy world. I let my stream of consciousness build the world and its history while I direct the story to the conclusion. This chapter is positive and introductory. Others will introduce conflict, fear, and revelations. But, like my favorite mystery and fantasy writers, the main characters will be mostly unchanged. They (Brass and Mary) are the pillars I will decorate with the story.

The trivia contest goes on for hours, and I have a hummus plater with some pita bread and veggies. I need some food with the beer. I have a second beer, and then Crystal and I agree on coffee with cream and bread pudding. With dessert inside me, I wished Crystal, I was the last customer, a good night (they close at 11 on Tuesday).

I was soon home, and the EV, now set to recharge to 100%, was plugged in. Somehow, the cable had a knot in it! I untangled the first one, and it reached. I ignored the other one. I ignore the dishes and head to bed. After taking my meds, I put on my PJs (I remembered ordering more as I have a trip in a week from the online pharmacy) and found a book to read. I have a 1936 account by an American naval officer of the WW1 Battle of Jutland 1916. The author, Commander Holloway H. Frost, also wrote a secret account and analysis (I have a copy, declassified) for an intelligence briefing book for active American naval officers published in 1924. I am interested in reading what an American observer recorded. I did not know about Commander Frost until last year. His account has been overshadowed by the British and German accounts.

Aside: In the times before antibiotics, Commander Frost passed away young from an infection, and his colleagues and family wanted his writings published as a memorial. I am happy to get a copy from Abe Books.

So far, I like the book’s writing style. I am just at the beginning and Commander Frost’s retelling of the state of the Great War in 1916 (with maps!). The summary and words fit my understanding of the war at the point without the usual bashing of various countries or their peoples. In our time, you can almost see these pages as the script and maps for a YouTube video.

Even with the fascinating book, I was soon falling asleep. I turned off the light and soon drifted to dreams of my fantasy world and Jutland. No dreams were remembered. Thanks for reading!

 

The alarm at 7 woke me as I started a lazy Monday morning. Monday feels like Saturday for me. Retired, I have no work week to start, but most folks I know are working, which means no plans for me. It feels like Saturday, except there are no cartoons to watch. Instead, I find a breakfast of toast, coffee, and a banana. The coffee is ground from locally roasted beans. I am at the end of that. I need to acquire some liberal coffee! My order will arrive in a few days from Equal Exchange’s warehouse in Portland. There is nothing like a little liberal in the morning in your cup to remind you of Justice with Compassion and the Love of Community.

I started the blog, Deborah called, and we chatted for a while. It is good to start the morning with Deborah, and usually, we end her day with talking. I also updated Quicken with the downloaded transactions. I resisted doom scrolling (i.e., reading the news when you are a liberal).

The blog was over 1500 words and took most of the morning. I considered making lunch or having fast food, but decided that the last day of March, a wet but not messy day (for the Pacific Northwest) should end with something better. I headed out in Air VW the Gray with 70% something charge, good for local driving, and soon arrived at Stanford’s for lunch at the bar.

The old barrel-like stools at the bar were now comfy, tall, green chairs. Abril was my bartender. Her hair was split between black and manga blue. She also sported a nose ring with a diamond hanging just under her nose. She made me an Old Fashioned Stanford’s version. It was good, and I remembered Susie and I coming here often after some medical test or worse. Today, I was alone and drank her usual drink here.

The Chicken Dijon was on the special menu, and I wanted to try it. I make a chicken cutlet occasionally and wanted to try their version. The chicken was about the same as I can do, maybe a bit better (maybe). The potatoes were industrial-whipped potatoes that many folks like. I like mine chunky with the skins on with butter. I think it’s better. Their asparagus was steamed and grilled. It was good, and I only steamed mine. The drink and food sent the bill pretty high, but it was fun. I did have wet eyes as I remembered Susie and sipped her drink. I told Abrill about Susie as she saw my moist eyes.

Next was Best Buy with my $100 gift card received for buying The Machine and other appliances in my pocket. The choice for a coffee maker ran high. I did not look at the $3,000+ machines that would fit the new Willy Wonka movie! I found a plain one that did ground coffee (not espresso or using pods or built-in frother) for $99.99. I carried it up to the desk and gave the gift card back. The cashier all but rolled his eyes. Yes, there was one cent left.

Next, I headed to Cornell Farms and walked in and out with a $69 pomegranate tree to plant. I did not do more as I carried it to the checkout and could spend endless amounts of money there on plants, soils, and other hole requiring home improvements. I texted Corwin with another request for hole and plant installation. I pay $20 a planting; he needs the money, and I avoid testing my balance digging and crawling on the ground skills.

The plant is on the deck waiting for Corwin, and the shovel is in the ground where I want it planted. I have learned that it is best to be very specific, as there is no undo button. I reboarded the EV and headed to the gaming store but found nothing I needed there. I got some cash, putting the payment for hole and plant installation in the butter dish in the frig; yes, cold cash for Corwin.

Focaccia bread was tried again. I followed the recipe for using the bread machine and saw that the new bread flour was already half used up. I loaded the machine with the ingredients with some trepidation and started the machine. It dances! The dough is stiff, and the machine moves. I had spilled some water running tests on the new coffee maker (bravely set next to the bread machine), and the bread machine was dancing on the slippery counter. A towel placed under the machine prevents the dancing. No doomed focaccia bread this time!

I placed some bags of the beef stew I made a few weeks ago in a bowl in the sink with warm water. I did not know that the bags leaked (why?) and the stew was diluted. After squeezing out the water (using the same holes), I put it in a pan and reheated the slightly diluted stew.

When the bread dough was finished in the bread machine (set to ‘Dough’), I patted it out into a pan and let it rest, brushing it with olive oil and even more fresh rosemary. Once rested and starting to puff again, I popped it in the oven. I sprinkled some sea salt on it, but this was a bit bitter, and I will not do it again.

I ate reheated stew with warm focaccia bread while rewatching the first season of the Star Wars show Andor on Disney+. The new season is coming soon. After that, I wrote for a while, adding more to my story. I am trying to finish the first chapter at 3,000 words. I am at 2,500.

Lastly, I got out my stamp albums and mounted my new stamps. I managed to get a reasonable price on the first pictorials and US Scott # 120 proof version (see them here if you are interested). Proofs were printed on cardboard to show what the new stamps would look like (you see posters now)—they are perfect. I am slowly getting all the proofs for the 1869 US stamps. I also got a few that were just holes in my collection. Somehow, over the years, I miss a few stamps here and there. I managed to get some reasonable prices for the missing stamps. Now, those pages are finished.

I also continue my collection of special locally published stamps from the mid-late 1800s. In those days, local delivery was often not done. You must head to the post office or arrange for a second, local carrier to deliver your mail. Some of these locals sold their own stamps or stamped the letters. These are valuable and a fascinating collection choice (some locals pre-dated the US postal use of stamps in 1947). This area is flooded with forgeries (many more than 100 years old), and I collect the actual local carriers and the forgeries (and reprints). I have the books on identifying forgeries and real versions (and reprints that are between forgeries and the original).

Tired and ready to sleep, it was already approaching Tuesday. I climb into bed after getting my PJs on. I was soon asleep. Thanks for reading.

Seldom do you think of cosmic disaster when reaching for the bread flour, but today, I missed all the omens that my attempt to make focaccia bread was doomed. Earlier, my cookbooks on the counter had fallen over (they are usually against the wall, and that is usually enough to stop them from falling over). I put them back, shook my head, and ignored this sign. Omens! Later, my antique sugar bowl, set on the back of the stove, fell but landed safely on the counter. It is made of Vaseline glass and is slightly radioactive. Signs!

Aside: Corwin accidently broke the previous sugar bowl, which was also made of the same uranium glass. This loss sent us to ask the local recycling authority to learn what to do with ‘used’ uranium. Do you just trash it or put it in the glass recycling? Or do we need special handling? I figured radioactive trash would cause some reaction that might involve folks with guns and warrants. No, just trash. On Sunday, I was relieved not having to call the local authorities and check if any policies on radioactive waste were updated. Being a liberal in Oregon and asking government folks about nuclear products seemed unwise in the new climate (back to people with guns).

The morning seemed blessed, and I rose slowly, knowing I had time before church at 11 to write my blog and enjoy breakfast with coffee, toasted homemade bread, and a banana. It was the last one. Thus, I had planned to stop at the veggie place at TV Highway and 185th on the way back from church.

Deborah called me, and we chatted briefly as I had time. She had already done some teaching (she still has some students online). Today, we would talk in the morning and then late (for Deborah). It is always a pleasure to start and end my day (or her’s) together.

I spent all my spare time chatting, doom scrolling (what liberals like me call reading the current news, unavoidably soaked in politics), and writing the blog. I rushed into the shower and did the usual things to get ready for church. Today’s tie was the whale fluke tie that Deborah bought at the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, California, to remind me of our whale watching and seeing orcas together.

Air VW the Gray was at 78% charge, which is good (about 1/3 of tank in gas engine range), and I boarded with my laptop. I might decide to have lunch out and write. Traffic was light, and I soon arrived at the church. The folks were still leaving the previous service. We rented the church to another church that met before us.

The service was the usual process. There was a tapping sound in the mics, and we checked that there was no electrical short in the huge amplifier for the organ. The organ is digital but connects to an old (like WW2 old) amp that takes enough power it could be used to weld. There was no smoke or smell (some of this old stuff is made to last forever when only used for a few hours a week). So no mouse or worse fell into the warm electronics (a repeated pulse can be an electrical fire). I reminded one of the younger folks NOT to use the fire extinguisher on an electrical fire unless they know it is safe for electrical fires (C02). Turning off the power and calling the fire department instead is best. None of that happened. It was a bad connector to a mic.

The songs were bright and happy. It is spring now (though often gray in the Pacific Northwest). The Greek scriptures of John’s Revelations were dark and some of the meanest stuff in the New Testament (at least, I think so): The Letter to the Church at Thyatira. Ken focused on the letter’s function and mostly ignored the darker parts of the text. He pointed out that the church must listen and correct its mistakes. He reviewed the connection of this letter to Old Testament commandments and made a good case that God often demands correction.

I must admit that I Googled the translation and looked at the underlying dark words while Ken spoke. I think it is incorrectly translated into English even in the New Revised Standard; it seems a modern usage and not appropriately sent in context. The reference in the text to Jezebel is, like most of Revelations (again, in my opinion), meant to create a mind-picture and not to be taken literally. The death of the offspring of sin is not meant to be killing, but the loss of faith and hope–this is how I taught this text before, and I think there is strong evidence for my direction (Jesus never says “Stone the sinners,” for example, but had dinner with them).

After the service, I gave Z the stuffed animal Deborah had sent her and a Paramount Studios portfolio. Dondrea got a pen from Battleship Iowa and a shot glass from The Olive Pit. Jack got a challenge coin from Battleship Iowa (and I finally remembered to return his memory stick). With that done, I headed out feeling off from too much coffee.

I stopped at the veggie store. They asked about my trip in the EV, which involved driving to LA and back. I told them it was interesting and enjoyable, a new way to do trips with stops for charging. I got two bags of veggies. I had tossed old veggies when I got home. I meant to eat them, but the trip with Deborah snuck up on me for cooking. Now restocked, I loaded the goodies into the cargo hold and returned to the now heavier traffic.

At home, I washed the mushrooms from the market and baked them. When they dried a bit, I added them to a hot pan with oil and stir-fried them. I added water twice to the pan and covered it to let the hot steam cook the fungus. I had not sliced the mushrooms, and the large whole caps looked excellent. I heated pasta sauce from The Olive Pit. I microwaved and then boiled three chicken thighs (bone and skin removed). Lastly, I salted and peppered the chicken and roasted it until it was done.

Pasta in salted water (I forgot to reserve a cup to add to the sauce) was next cooked (now that the mushrooms were put aside and a burner and pot were available). I steamed asparagus in a large pot with a metal strainer. Dinner was delicious. The kitchen looked like it had exploded.

Afterward, I did the dishes (I admit I returned for seconds; I had no lunch). I packed the leftovers in glass containers (thanks, Gene and Glenda, for those). I went back to writing my story and even read part of the story to Deborah (we tried to watch Matlock together, but our previous watch party setup did not work). Deborah, it was getting late, meaning we ended our Zoom meeting to sleep, and I started on the recipe for Focaccia. Doom soon followed.

I bought cucumbers, dill, and more garlic at the 185th Corner Market (the aforementioned veggie place). I heated vinegar, salt, and water until just boiling. I peeled a cucumber (wax on the skin) and sliced it to fit the pasta jar I had cleaned for this experiment. I was following Joshua Weissman: An Unapologetic Cookbook recipe for dill pickles. This is not canning, but simple frig pickles. I added dill, garlic, and peppercorns. I poured the hot liquid (there was some left over) into the jar and followed directions and when room tempature, but in the frig. I am hopeful.

I went outside and collected fresh rosemary in the rain. I did have to brush off a tiny slug that seemed to want the rosemary flowers. It is blooming.

I chopped garlic, used kitchen shears to cut the rosemary leaves into tiny bits, collected warm water, bread flour, salt, and yeast, and loaded the bread machine with all this goodness. I put it on the dough setting, and it started in. I did not notice how close the machine was to the edge of the counter, and I did not push it back to a safer location, which was a terrible omission.

I went back to writing. When I checked, the dough seemed heavy, but I was unconcerned. I continued to write.

There was a loud thud, followed a moment later by a loud crash, an explosion of glass, and an unseen electrical short. The ground fault protectors I put in the kitchen twenty-plus years ago prevented a test of how much power is needed to set off the electrical box breaker (see previous comments about fire extinguishers). The short was immediately shut off; I had to reset the plug.

The coffeemaker and glass pot were crushed on the floor. The electrical guts of the coffee maker were exposed. Thin glass was thrown across the floor and into the next room! I got the heavy metal dust pan from the garage. I made three passes with the broom until no more glass was shown. I carried the dust pan to the garbage outside each time, not wishing to risk it in a trash bag. I vacuumed the floor and carpet. I checked multiple times, and no glass is showing.

The coffeemaker joined the glass in the outside trash. I recovered the dough. But before I tossed it, I tested, and the bread machine restarted in the proper place (it is supposed to survive a short power failure and restart where it left off). But the would-be focaccia might be poisoned with glass, too, so I removed it, and it joined the rest of the items in the trash outside. My dreams of focaccia bread were unfulfilled.

A bit spooked, tired, and frustrated, I went to bed. I read Joshua Weissman: An Unapologetic Cookbook and decided I would not be stopped. I will finish my Focaccia and even some more items for this cookbook. With dreams of homemade ketchup, I turned off the light and slept until the morning.