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I woke up in room 329 with an alarm around 7, rolled over, and slept another thirty minutes. I rose, started on the blog, cleaned up, shaved, dressed, and headed to a more comfortable space. No coffee in the room, so it is a desert when I wake up there. I traveled in Air Ford NH to Bagel Cafe, but on a roundabout route, I did a U-turn; I turned right and not left on the main drag when I started. I found coffee in the hotel’s small oasis lobby and drank it while making the longer-than-expected trip.

Air Ford NH finally seemed longer than it was. At Bagel Cafe, I had a large poppy salmon bagel and coffee with cream while I spent the morning writing the blog. While I wrote, the crowd changed a few times. It was mostly younger people in groups and folks working, taking a break. Few grey folks like me were writing or reading for a few hours. I suspect the early hours were busy when they opened at 6, and I was here for the late customers.

I have talked to Deborah several times; we are in the same time zone now, so we exchange good mornings when it is still morning. I will return to the Pacific Northwest, my beloved home of the last twenty-eight years, late Sunday or early Monday (assuming I make my connection in Seattle and my flight runs as planned). We are trying to make the long-distance relationship work.

Air Ford NH carried me to Annika’s and Clint’s place, and Clint made me a few tacos for lunch. With no plans for the afternoon, Clint got Misha and me to play the board game Lords of Waterdeep. Annika and Misha are Susie’s cousins. This is Clint’s favorite, and he soon taught us the game. This is a worker placement and resource game with a theme of the Dungeons and Dragons setting of the city of Waterdeep. The mechanics are simple without the usual engine building, multiple levels of resource management, and goal chasing of more complex games, like the board game Lisboa.

Soon, we are all running without questions and playing an intensifying game. I take the lead, but soon, Misha overtakes me, and Clint, from behind, climbs suddenly forward. I build many buildings and score a goal that gives me points for the buildings. The central point system is to fulfill quests drawn in one place with resources collected elsewhere. Your workers are placed there to get the quest or resources. There were also intrigue cards that usually allowed one-time benefits and often benefited your opponents. The game was light, in my opinion, but also fun and short. A perfect match for three players, something you don’t see often.

Next, it was nearing time for Pat, Clint’s friend, to pick us up. We headed to Manchester, the largest city in New Hampshire, about the size of Salem, Oregon, but undoubtedly wealthy and a center of business in the state. We soon located a Boards and Brews, paid the fine (or so it seemed), $5 a person added to our bill, and acquired Euphoria: Build a Better Dystopia (2013) board game from Stonemaier Games from the massive collection of games ready to play at Boards and Brews. It is not one of the game publisher’s successes (Wingspan, Scythe, Wrymspan, and Viticulture being their best-loved games), but Clint liked it, and I only heard that there were other better games. This is the earlier published version.

We made an easy mistake in play and soon corrected how the stars were placed (when you build something, it goes on the building or when removing the penalty for not building it later). Soon, like Scythe, the game accelerated to a sudden finish. I can now see some of the elements in Scythe appear in this precursor to the beloved game. I played a reactive strategy, trying to stockpile resources and take places on the board that would get me knocked out and get my worker, a die in this game, back and ready to place again. I would then slide in and complete things or place another star. Soon, Misha and I were competing to win, but with a pile of resources now, I could take advantage of positions on the board while Misha went back for more resources. I ended the game for a win like Scythe by placing my last star. There is no scoring. Again, I can see why Scythe added scoring after the game stops, as there is no payment for good play, which is an obvious complaint. 

The game style was worker placement and resource management, but it was heavier than Lords of Waterdeep. It was fun. It plays under an hour once you know it, and I may consider buying it; it sells for $65 for a new copy from the publisher, but used copies are as low as $25. I think the mix of complexity but with acceleration makes it a good game. While initially confusing, the goal cards and factions add interesting variations and allow for replayability without feeling like the game is just a repeat. Not a bad game.

Aside: My chicken fingers were served uncooked. Ick! They removed the cost of a beer for that. The folks at Boards and Brews seemed overwhelmed by a group playing a more complex game and ordering beer and food. Strange.

After that, Pat, who was driving, took us back to Clint’s house, and then Clint and I headed to a Maker Space night at the local school. I helped there and watched as Clint and my friends discussed some changes. We then headed out for beers at a cash-only local bar (a would-be towny bar but with 36 taps, PBR for $3 for the edgy folks, and food that was better than the gaming store–it was cooked) and discussed Dungeons and Dragons. There, Clint agreed I could DM, and I soon discussed how I handle large groups in 5E Dungeons and Dragons.

We agree to play D&D on Friday night, with me finding pre-made characters and cobbling a shortened version of one of my adventures. We returned, and soon, I returned to the hotel, showered, and sent out 14 or so 7th-level premises for Clint and friends. I sleep with visions of undead, horrifying traps, and spells flying in my head. I sleep well; I am the DM: Undead, traps, horrors, and spells are my allies.

Thanks for reading!

45I did not rise early in 2025 but slept until nearly 9. I rose in my Extended Stay America Hotel again, amazed at how rundown and almost useless this hotel was. The room has never been cleaned, there are no new towels, but more importantly, there is no complementary coffee or breakfast. The bathtub was coated with some paint, and much was peeling off. I will never use Extended Stay America again. But it is clean.

With little reason to stay in the room, I headed out in Air Ford NH, turned the wrong way, got turned around, and then parked at the Bagel Cafe. I purchased a poppy bagel with salmon and all the fixings. I watched a BMW SUV parked in two spaces to prevent anyone from parking beside their precious car. The locals are not happy. The locals even take pictures. Soon, the locals parked their vehicles near the BMW as close as possible. This New Hampshire, “Live Free or Die,” and are not putting up with the parking stunt.

I wrote as I watched all the drama. It took me a while to punch out 700+ words. I reboarded Air Ford NH. I talked to Deborah briefly as we greeted each other in 2025. I soon arrived at Clint and Annika’s house. It is just noon, and I have some leftovers for a snack.

Clint asked me what I would want to do, and I suggested that seeing the Atlantic on this side, where I was previously on the West African beach, would be good. A poll was taken, and three others, all men, decided to join. Next, we are in a Subaru headed to the tiny bit of cost of New Hampshire; I leave Air Ford NH keys in case the remaining folks need another car (there are many).

We arrive at Hampton Beach and Tide Mill Creek in about an hour, cross over the bridges, and then walk on the beach. We are also amazed by a house being rebuilt to be higher. I remember that the reduced-cost insurance programs were eliminated by Congress, and now, homeowners must make improvements in risk areas to get insurance on the general market. Building codes have been tightened in many at-risk regions (except in some southern states, where recent damage showed new structures failing in lightened building codes). The house we saw was raised a whole story, with a new cement foundation and walls soon to hold it up. It appeared the house had been moved and used to sit near the ground. Fascinating to all of us.

Aside: Due to the law changes and the loss of Congress-funded rebuilding, many homes in at-risk areas are sold at reduced prices to folks with deep enough pockets to reconstruct them to code and can afford to insure them on the open market (I believe the government insurance was gone).

The beach was lovely, and the sand was not what I was used to. This is thicker, and you sink into it more than the fine grey sand in Oregon and Washington. The seas on the Atlantic and its storms can be vicious, and the large stones and seawalls surprise me. I am used to open beaches and the Oregon laws that say nothing may be done to stop erosion without permits, and those are usually only for piers for river and harbor access. Still, walking the beaches and looking back at Africa, where I last was on the Atlantic, was terrific. Clint was surprised I did not touch the Ocean, but with my Brooks and it being winter, I was not interested in getting my feet wet.

We drove along the coast, stopped again, and watched folks in wetsuits surfing. A large crew was out there, and some of the waves were good. We, as you an see above, were dressed for the cold. Being out there in the water did not appeal.

Next, we crossed into Kittery, Maine, to the Portsmouth Naval Base. We had to provide our IDs to the base guards, who welcomed us and saluted Clint, a Major in the Airforce (reserve); we found the old early 1900s prison now a disused and scary-looking building on the water. Next, I had us stop at a small park. There was the conning tower of WW2 submarines (two different ones with each number on the other side with its ‘kills’ painted on each side). I did not recognize the type, and it was a pre-WW2 design. An 1800s-style huge iron anchor was lost and recovered and is now placed there. A Polaris missile, the remains of an early Cold War submarine weapon, was also on display. USS New Hampshire’s (BB-25) bell was on display from 1908. It was worth stopping and seeing these memories of different times.

Next, we returned to New Hampshire (a bridge crossing) and Portsmouth, a trendy town. Misha found a well-rated pizza joint that supports his food allergies. We also stopped by Diversions Gaming, and I bought a deck of cards with their logo and a small matchbox puzzle (for just a few bucks). Then, I could not find a credit card. Hmmm. There is no activity, and I will cancel it if I don’t discover it in my pants or car. I used another; I carry four.

The Flatbread Pizza was excellent, across from Diversions, but it was also expensive. I was hungry as I had only a bagel and a snack all day. I ate my small pizza, and Misha and Gene took half a pizza back with them. Soon, we were on the road again, with Clint getting us back in about an hour.

Returned, I was soon asked to play Mysterium, an experiential cooperative board game. We had five players and a ghost. Clint plays one of the psychic investigators and not the ghost; Ryder wanted that. I made only one miss, but I was not ready for Ryder’s literalness and to follow fewer colors and shapes. But, I don’t forget that I began leading with Anne. Clint and Annika are in the middle. Lorelei was not connecting with Ryder’s thinking.

(sorry, it’s a bit blurry…it was the ghost thing)

The ghost sends art images (cards) to the various psychic investigators in Mysterium. You can find the suspect, location, and weapon options for the suspects. One last set of clues was shared, and secret votes were taken. Anne and I picked the murder, and since we were the most aligned with the ghost, our pick was the deciding one, and we all won. Clint and Annika missed, and Lorelei was wrong too but picked another, meaning a tie that Anne and I broke and won the game. An excellent board game but not easy and can be ego-bruising. We did not use the timer, which makes for a more fun game, especially with younger folks.

I left after that and soon was sleeping after a shower. I did not wake up until I heard my alarm at 7.

Thanks for reading!

Within a few minutes of midnight, we put down our draw bags for the board game Quacks of Quedlinburg (QQ) with all the Witches additions and 3D printed parts and counted down for the end of 2024. Happy New Year, dear reader!

The Magic The Gathering games broke up when some folks left, giving Clint (Annika’s husband, Annika being Susie’s niece) a chance to get out QQ with all the expansions. Some moaned when we learned we had to learn the new version and that the potion components could vary from the QQ regular game after various drinks, but we found our way. As usual, all my luck happened at the start of the game, and I blew up multiple times, losing my lead. I came in third with another player just passing me. My last play had been unlucky. QQ is a push-your-luck and resource management game. It is a favorite, and I would say the updated version was fun.

After the New Year, I soon headed out, was at my hotel at 1, and slept late after a shower. My coughing is still endless, with each morning being a hope that finally it will stop, but only to be ruined as the nasal drip starts again. Ugh.

Going backward in our story, I watched some football, grazed the finger foods often, and chatted with mostly strangers for most of the evening. The college bowl games are on with a new organizational structure that has left some unusual matchups. Penn State vs. Boise State was the one we watched. Penn State should have crushed their opponent, but as usual, after a few touchdowns, the underdogs, Boise State, started to push hard and threaten to unseat Penn State. Boise State team, tasting an impossible win, began to make mistakes, and penalties started to cost the team the game. Penn State then rallied and crushed Boise State as expected.

A sugar cone, Zuckerhut, was lit over hot mulled wine, Feuerzangenbowle, and soon, the caramelized sugar and hot wine were in our cups. It was great. This is a German tradition that I had not experienced before, and we all felt the German emotion called Gemütlichkeit (loosely translated as friendship). Lovely.

Various folks arrived, and I was introduced as a family member from Oregon. Various grazing foods and drinks were provided. As I was coughing and had to drive later, I kept drinking to a few small drinks of the Feuerzangenbowle hot beverage.

Before this, I learned that Clint had received the excellent board game Wrymspan (WS) as a Christmas present. We punched it, and I taught. Soon, we had it all set up and started a game. There were a few questions, but the game structure, a revised version of the massively popular Wingspan, seems to play itself. You are there to make decisions, not drive the game’s mechanics. Soon, I was fighting to win, and while my score of 75 was good, Clint’s 85 was excellent. I did get some very complex turns done and demonstrated them to Clint. I thought I played well, but I struggled to get the correct dragon cards, and my amber area was weak the whole game, meaning getting dragon cards was difficult. Still, it was excellent gameplay, and Clint got to play and learn a new game.

Before this, I met ten folks for tacos at the local taco place, Mi Jalisco. I had driven from the Bagel Cafe in Nashua, New Hampshire. I traveled in Air Ford NH. I wrote the blog while having a bagel (while not a NYC version, it was still a bagel). All the Hill and Weis clans had mostly tacos, with me going for three Taco Tuesday 99-cent shredded beef tacos. I was inside while the clan waited for me outside. I had arrived first (though I had the furthest to travel) and then waved them in. Lunch was great with the usual mix of young eaters who ate everything or lived off just looking and moving food around. After the meal, I took a few with me back to the house while others scattered for various missions to prepare for New Year’s Eve.

Before this, I rose before 8 and was feeling better. I started the blog and, at 8:30, boarded Air Ford NH, a borrowed Ford Escape, and found my way to the Bagel Cafe. There, I had a salmon (bad breath) bagel.

And that takes me to the start! Thanks for reading.

Monday was a travel day, and I was up at 3:20 when I woke up. I checked what time it was. I was startled awake by the silenced alarm showing. Did I do that? No memory. I jumped out of bed and soon headed out of the room after a fast clean up, shave, and gathering my already packed items. My PJs, a gift from Deborah, were packed in my carry-on, and I was out at 3:45 and on the road in Air Kia before 4AM. Yikes!

I made one last cup of coffee and drank it as I boarded Air Kia. The travel was wet and windy, and Air Kia fish-tailed a few times. It was hard going in the dark with the rain and trying to find my way back to the car rental place. The lines of the streets and highways are hard to see sometimes with the dark and rain, but I arrived safely and found the entrance to Hertz and parked and emptied the car. I checked it twice (as I did the hotel room).

I was pointed by a processing clerk to a shelter with a bus. The bus was moved to the next shelter, but I walked anyway. The wind and the rain blowing over the acres of cars were cold. It was still the correct bus. About twenty minutes later, I was at DTW. I rolled my bags up two escalators to find a long line to check bags. The tagging and boarding pass printing machines had and third of the machines not working, f**k, and there were lines three travelers deep. It was slow going, and I was getting concerned. The Delta folks did seem to fix one, and I jumped on that one after someone got it to work. Soon, I was tagged and then placed in another long line. That one went fast enough that I did not get more concerned. I dropped off my bag and wandered lost until directed to take the escalators back down and go through security there.

I descended, entered security, and soon took off things and put them in trays. Apparently, I did not raise my hands high enough (I think they wanted my pants to fall off) on the first scan and had to do it again. I passed, as did my tray of items. My pants remained on. After a moment of reassembly, I saw, as usual, that I had the last f**king gate in Detroit, as far away as physically as possible. How airlines manage the bending of time and space to ensure that each passenger gets the maximum exposure to retail stores and Airport propaganda always amazes me.

I see that I can pay for some 3D glasses and walk around in a virtual space with marks on the floor for the limit of the vision. I demurred. I walked to another escalator (How many ups and downs can a place have?) and soon took the express train to the end of the gates. After another escalator, I was quickly at my gate, A9.

The food place sign says they open at 5AM, and it was fifteen minutes past the demarcating time of no food to food. But I was informed that they were not ready. I thanked them for their efforts.  I found a table in view of the food place and A9. Perfect.

I returned to the food stand when they seemed ready, but alas, no, I could get a bagel and cream cheese, which was simple. I concurred, bought it, got a number, and was told to wait. As the process was simple, it was quickly completed, and I enjoyed breakfast. Alas, they do not make coffee (!), and I would have to try the coffee place over there (out of the line of sight) to get coffee. Nope. I just ate and wrote the start of the blog.

With 2/3 of the blog done, the boarding was soon, and I packed up from my excellent table. Called out my thanks to the bagel providers, and that got a smile, even on a blurry Monday. The boarding process was usual, and being a blurry Monday, the customers were exceptionally polite and seemed happy to just line up and be told where to go. Even the screaming children who just realized they would be put in a flying, uncomfortable, and scary tin can for about 70 minutes (we all should be crying!) were muted in their protests.

I found 34A and put my bag in the overhead bin, ignoring that I should first use the space at my feet. Punishments for this sin were vague, and I decided to risk it and enjoy my feet having room for over an hour as we were depressurized to the base camp of many mountain climbers (yes, about the equivalent of 7,000 feet). I was joined by two gals covered with implements for flying that made me wonder if they knew this was the Detroit to Boston flight. Yes, they were only flying one flight.

I performed the ritual to summon my screen to life and recognize me, including exchanging codes. Now, I plugged in my wired but noise-reducing earphones and watched most of the movie Argo (I will complete it on the flight back—yes, Delta-sync will remember where I left off). I paused the show, nodded off, and missed the beverage serving. We were informed that ‘smooth air’ would be searched for, but it was likely allusive in this area. The pilot insisted that we wear our seatbelts and just try to relax–few services would be available.

My seatmates were missing. I heard one seatmate espouse that her blanket was necessary. She could not find it. She ran to the restroom, and she cried and was ill. She received comfort from other passengers (I was oblivious as the restroom was ten seats back, and I was enjoying the movie). The blanket was found, and she finished the trip in her seat.

While it is easy to eye-roll, talk about the snowflake generation, and make fun of younger people, something folks with grey hair think is one of the few pleasures of getting older. Pain is still pain, and I made every effort to be supportive and pretend this was all normal. I smiled and helped here and there. I was happy for her when she could relax and find peace.

We arrived early but then were delayed by the gate staff being missing and the usual curfuffles of arriving too early. Soon, I was off the plane with all my goods and walked endless poorly marked hallways with more escalators going up and down in unexpected places. I found my checked bag and called Clint. He wanted to know what terminal I was at. A helpful fact that was not on any sign–Yes, Logan Airport conserves signage.

Soon, we connected, and I was whisked away in an older Ford Escape that did not have a large screen. We stopped for brunch after Exit 1 in New Hampshire; I missed the state change. We skipped the tunnel as the maps app had used to cover Boston above ground. We had a baked tomato, eggs, and feta with pita for brunch. Wonderful!

We stopped at my hotel and learned there was no checking-in until after 2:30. Period. I find this in only half of the hotels. I often score the room, even in the mornings. My coughing was not improved by the lack of sleep and depressurization from the flight. We headed to the clan ensconced at Clint’s and Annika’s home (Annika being Susie’s neise). Clint explained the lay of the land; me, coining a phrase here.

Soon, I was at the house, about twenty-five minutes from my hotel. I soon saw Gene and Glenda (Susie’s uncle and aunt) and various kids (now much older). Clint showed me his 3D printer and started a print. Clint and I then found time to learn and play the Kickstarter board game Chocolate Factory. A Kickstarter I did not back (but I remember reading about it). I found it a marvelous resource management game with just a hint of worker placement and engine building sliding in. It plays six rounds and uses a unique sliding action I have not seen before. It reminded me of a much lighter version of the Grand Austrian Hotel.

You start with coco in pods and turn them into chocolate-based products, which you can machine into various fine chocolates. You play three shifts and burn coal to run machines. I often ran out of coal. You can exchange chocolates for coal (thus, excess can be at least used). The run of your factory was immersive, and I wanted a Willy Wonka hat and sing some songs when working in my factory (“Ump, Ump, dup-pa-dee-do”). I managed to pull ahead by filling orders for corner stores and doing enough on the large stores to keep Clint from sweeping me. I won by 18 pounds (points) but felt I could have done better. I was tired and decided to get dinner and rest at the hotel.

The hotel I would call a pit and cannot recommend it and will not be returning to the brand. It is clean. There is no coffee, and dishes and other things, like DIY coffee makers, are only available on request. F**k. I espouse that hotels supply coffee. Ugh!

I found Clint’s recommendation, Cedars Cafe, and had lamb kabobs for dinner. And that, with freshly made hummus and pita, was a great meal in my room. I showered and found a tiny bottle of shampoo and soap bar. I went to bed and soon slept. I woke once to prove hydration and then took my meds; it was late, but at least I remembered. I rose late with my cough reduced with mostly forgotten dreams of making chocolates.

I forgot in yesterday’s blog that we did see the Dymaxion house at the Henry Food Museum. This was a post-war idea of building an aluminum house with a cable system to hold it together, Buckminster Fuller’s idea. Only two prototypes were built, as he never got funding, and they are combined into one example at the museum. We waited about forty minutes in line and got to walk through the house. The bathroom was smaller than what I had seen on submarines, and the kitchen made my galley kitchen look friendly and spacious, but still, it was a wonder to see the unaccepted idea. They walked us ten at a time, the maximum the house could handle, and explained the functions. Some of the ideas we have seen in cartoons and some SciFi shows. The museum had just opened the house to visitors; Deborah had never been inside, though she had seen it many times, and it was one of her favorites at the museum. We noticed some changes and learned that the house was reinforced now and that the house had people walking it all day. We wondered aloud if a party at one of these would have damaged the house, but we were told that the constant tours required reinforcement, though we were less convinced.

Seeing this vision of Buckminster Fuller and the post-WW2 idea of a two-bedroom, two-bath home was fantastic. Walking through and seeing the system’s guts, exposed for the tours, was fascinating. I would recommend the tour to anyone (except for small kids, as it would bore them).

Poe’s Desk. There is a collection of historical furniture that was fun to look at.

With the story now all caught up, my coughing reduced this Tuesday, New Year’s Eve. I am pleased to finish up the story; thanks for reading!

I have an hour before my flight starts to board, so this will be a brief blog post today.

I rose early with my alarm at 6:30 to begin my day. I started writing a blog that would be 1200 words long, and it took me a few hours. I decided at 8sih I needed breakfast, cleaned up, shaved, dressed, and moved to the lobby. There, the industrial breakfast of the usual items was waiting, but there were no biskets to go with the food served canned white sausage gravy. I put some gravy over my red potatoes and rosemary, the other starch that would go with gravy. Coffee was plentiful. I had made Dunkin Donuts in the Kuelig that I purchased for too much money from the CVS pharmacy. So I was highly caffeinated when I was writing!

I finished the blog in the late morning, and Deborah picked me up in Air Mini and skillfully got us to the Henry Food Museum in Dearborn. The place charges even for parking, so our two visitors’ access to the Museum was just below $100. Wow. The place had been updated since I was there over 30 years ago.

Some items I remember were still there, including the chair that Lincoln was sitting in when he was shot. The big presidential cars and the remodeled one that President Kenedy was shot in were included. I did not know it was still being used by Nixon and Carter. President Reagan’s huge car was also there. Reagan was wounded by a ricochet while getting out of that car in the 1980s. His press secretary, Jim Bradey, was terribly injured at that moment.

Deborah and I enjoyed the cars and the displays of changes in technology. Neither of us is a car person, so some excitement projected from some displays was lost on us. We found lunch there by grabbing it from premade as the line was long, and soon, we wondered why you would not slice the grapes in a chicken salad sandwich. The whole round grapes popped out of the sandwich, making eating them more exciting than you are ready for! We finished our sandwiches with only a few lost grapes on the floor.

We walked more of the items with Deborah looking for something, a weird surprise, but she could not locate it. The last breath of Thomas Edison was captured (sort of) in a test tube and is on display. The cabinet that contains the item was in the history of the power section, and the lights, which is ironic, have failed in the case with all the inventors of lighting systems, making it hard to find. It was a strange item.

We wandered a bit more but had been there for hours, and it was time to head back. Like the museums in Chicago, there are mold machines that make you a plastic item as you wait. We figured out the complex pay system and finally got a four-inch-tall Henry Ford figure made as a gift for Corwin.

Deborah got us back to our area, and we relaxed a bit. This includes stopping at Deborah’s house and getting her dogs, Zelda and Trixie, fed, walked, and petted. We made a reservation at the Hibachi place in Rochester. This is like the old Benihana places; soon, knives flew, and food was trying to be caught (I failed every time). We had steak and scallops, and it was pretty good. Dinner was great, and while we were sad that our time together was ending, it was a great night. We had many laughs and got to enjoy some fun.

I said goodbye and goodnight (Deborah will be in Oregon in February). I apologize for making this less detailed, but I am tired from traveling to New Hampshire tonight. Thanks for reading.