Category: The DayBook

The day started with wonderful red reflections — wonderful enough to get me to open the window for a proper shot.

But before long: sleet.

I amused myself making a fine lunch. I wondered if I could still make a proper omelet. I can. Usually just do fried eggs. Also made some just-OK lentil soup to use up scraps of this and that. Scraps of this and that are no substitute for good soup stock. Hot sauce helps.

Gratitude

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Grateful that I can walk up 11 floors to my apartment.

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Our elevators are so unreliable that I consider my apartment an eleventh-floor walk-up.

Don’t let me exaggerate too much: one freight elevator and four regular elevators serve the building. Since I returned from my early winter travels, two of them have been largely offline.

Walking down the stairs: piece of cake.
Walking up: I take a little break at four and nine. Figure using the stairs is the only thing I can do to help. And it’s good practice for Tokyo.

A week from today — sailing to St Somewhere.

Was it not Jimmy Buffett who sang about needing to go to St. Somewhere? Well, I am leaving for St. Somewhere next Saturday.

Today’s sole objective was to finish culling and cataloging my photos from 2025. Mission accomplished.

And once that was done, I selected a few purely for my own amusement.

Photographing Japanese girls was not my objective.
But I seem to have captured a few by accident.
In their natural habitat.

I spent a nice, cozy day indoors doing a whole lot of nothing.

The primary focus was mending my elderly jeans skirt and culling photos from 2025. I try to be as ruthless as possible with the delete key. But not one picture from the Volcano Run or the Island Hopper will be deleted. Those were once-in-a-lifetime experiences.

A couple from last month’s Island Hopper adventure:

And what will happen to all my photos when I die? Absolutely nothing. They will vanish.

Every now and again, I think about setting up a fund to keep this blog alive after I’m gone. I probably would, if I were a better chronicler of the fall of the United States.

Mother Nature, That Bitch, was just messing with me this morning. Gray winter clouds appeared before I made it out for my walk.

But today, one of our residents pulled off her third annual fashion show. A fashion show at the asylum is a gloriously bizarre event. And great fun. Thank you, Victoria.

What’s not to love?

And it was a fine sunny day.

Went to in-person yoga for the first time since October.

Ubered to yoga and took the bus home. One bus was half full; the other was almost full. I was the only non-Hispanic rider on either bus. I can only imagine how fearful many of my fellow passengers must be. Our area has been relatively ICE-free so far, but that could change in a heartbeat.

Especially since we’ve finally disposed of our MAGA governor. He leaves office this Saturday. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, Glenn.

This orchid was left outside my door a couple of years ago. I know it has bloomed before—but never like this.
Thank you.

Chuuk, Federated States of Micronesia. Stop #5 on my little adventure last month.

About an hour after leaving Pohnpei, Chuuk appears. I’m sure there were many interesting atolls along the way, but clouds had other plans.

Chuuk is by far the most populous state in the Federated States of Micronesia, with roughly 50,000 people living on about 46 square miles. Most residents live around Chuuk Lagoon. Weno Island, located inside the lagoon, is the state capital and the country’s largest city. It’s about 7.2 square miles, rises to 1,215 feet at its highest point, and is home to the airport.

Much of Chuuk’s notoriety comes from World War II, when Truk Lagoon was Japan’s primary Pacific naval base—until the U.S. destroyed it in Operation Hailstone in 1944, leaving one of the world’s largest shipwreck graveyards beneath the lagoon.

Haven’t a clue what Chuuk does for a living. There are a couple of hotels and a lot of great wreck diving.

All of our landings were perfect. Except that it rained, we mostly couldn’t get off the plane, and I missed my flight to Tokyo—it was a great trip. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

If I weren’t so old, I’d go back and spend a few days on a couple of the islands.

A flight like none other comes to an end.
Whatever happened was what I planned.

But the sun called in reinforcements: wind. Which meant it was still too cold outside for my tastes. So, I sulked indoors today. Accomplished very little. But I didn’t kill anyone. That’s a win.

This is from Japan, specifically Yokohama. They cost a little more in Tokyo.

Speaking of the cost of food: the cost of food at The Asylum has increased dramatically. The cost and quality have a clear inverse relationship. However, they did not raise the price of yuca and lima beans. Still $9.95. 

RIP Bobby. Thank you for a real good time!

I’ll say this: I look forward to dying. I tend to think of death as the last and best reward for a life well-lived. That’s it.
Bob Weir, 2025 American Songwriter Magazine

Pohnpei, Federated States of Micronesia. Stop #4 on my little adventure last month.

About an hour after leaving Kosrae, Pohnpei appears. Pohnpei: an Eden-like landscape, a mind-numbing ceremonial drink called sakau, and the world-class surfing break at Palikir Pass. My kinda place. If I were decades younger.

The state of Pohnpei is located roughly midway between Honolulu and Manila. Its land area is about 133 square miles. Most of Pohnpei Island is volcanic, with the highest peak of around 2,600 feet. The island is roughly circular, with an 80-mile coastline surrounded by a coral reef. The population is approximately 37,000.

I presume most of the state revenue comes from commercial fishing licenses. There were many large commercial fishing vessels inside the reef.

You can see why the pilots love this flight. Who wouldn’t want to land a Boeing 737 here a couple of times a week?

Once again, we were not permitted to deplane. We were late. Strangely, no one seemed upset about staying on board. There were four of us who were simply along for the ride. Others were trying to get home for the holidays, to Guam or Manila.

We were perfectly content watching roughly 150 passengers cycle on and off the plane. The segments from Kosrae to Pohnpei to Chuuk felt a lot like riding the Metro bus at rush hour—only with palm trees, clouds, and coral reefs outside the windows

A flight like none other.

Scuttled out for a walk this morning while my room was being cleaned and made a point of doing some stairs. Of course, “doing stairs” is almost as necessary at the Asylum as it is in Japan.

When I returned on Christmas Day, two of our four elevators were on vacation. By late Tuesday, they were all back at work. By this morning, two were on vacation. Again.

Gratitude

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Grateful that I can make it up to my room on the 11th floor using the stairs.

Note: Just because I can doesn’t mean I like it.

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When I was in Japan, I ran into several peony gardens. From the locked gates, I could see the peonies blooming madly. But “Peony Viewing Season” didn’t open until January 1. One must respect tradition.

So I enjoyed our Asylum peonies after my walk.

Fortunately, Ray Rosemary and the sage are plugging along nicely. Time to think about coleus and maybe even impatiens

Kosrae, Federated States of Micronesia. Stop #3 on my little adventure last month.

Somewhere along the way, we collected rain clouds. They stayed with us. We didn’t deplane here, which was expected — we were already late, and it was raining steadily.

The plane was about half full when we landed. Many of the Pacific Islanders got off. Then many people boarded — whole families — and we departed at over 100% capacity, if you count lap babies.

I was curious about this airport. So, checked it out on Google Maps.

The airport is constructed on a reef and connected to the island by a bridge. The runway is 5,751 feet long — quite generous for the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Of course, there is absolutely no margin for error.

Kosrae is the second-largest island in the Federated States of Micronesia, with 42 square miles and a population of about 7,700. Mount Finkol is the highest point at 2,080 feet. It’s a lush, mountainous island with young, sharp peaks. The government is the state’s largest employer, and the main attraction is diving on the coral reef that surrounds the island.

If I were even ten years younger, I might consider visiting. There are two modest hotels. 

A flight like none other.

Well, we haven’t invaded Greenland yet. So I guess that makes today a good day.

I had a splendid little two-mile walk this morning.

Gratitude

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Grateful that I can still enjoy a two-mile walk on a warm winter day.

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Kwajalein, Marshall Islands. Stop #2 on my little adventure last month.

Getting off the plane or taking pictures out the window while the plane is on the ground is verboten. They didn’t say anything about taking pictures before the plane landed.

Kwajalein is the 14th-largest coral atoll by area of enclosed water. It comprises 97 islands and islets, with a land area of just 6.3 square miles, surrounding one of the largest lagoons in the world — 839 square miles of water. The average elevation is about six feet above sea level. Kwajalein Island itself has a population of roughly 1,000 people, mostly American military, along with a small number of Marshall Islanders and other nationalities. Everyone requires explicit permission from the U.S. Army to live there.

From Honolulu to Kwajalein, my seatmate was one of the two onboard mechanics. At Kwajalein, he was replaced by a very attractive and slightly dangerous-looking gentleman headed for Manila. He looked exactly like how I imagine Ranger from the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich.

Almost all of the Westerners got off the plane here. A few got on, heading west, including Ranger, and another man I would later spend an afternoon with in the Guam airport.

As I said: a flight like no other.

The first week of January usually means a return to ordinary time. Except these times are anything but ordinary for this country.

The U.S. has gone completely off the rails many times in its history. January 2026 feels different only because it’s gone bonkers in too many ways at the same time.

I revisited and updated my “death planning” documents today, in preparation for a visit to my lawyer. When you are somewhere between 80 and dead, this isn’t a depressing task. It’s oddly reassuring. I feel better knowing  I’ve cleared the path a bit for the inevitable.