Category: The DayBook

Got serious about the upcoming trek to Hawai’i and beyond today. My luggage weighs 16 pounds. That’s one pound over my limit. However, I am unsure what I am willing to give up.

I wanted to give my garden box a really good soaking. While the hose was running, I took some pictures of summer’s end.

An interesting Birthday Day.

For starters, the Asylum is 38 years old. That’s well past the “best if used by date” for elevators! But the building is surviving pretty well.

And so are the residents.

Dick is a couple of months shy of 100. And he has lived here almost ⅓ of his life. That is something that many of us fail to recognize when we move in. Yes, this is our “forever home”. Yes, we expect to die here and may actually have moved in to simplify our final exit. We fail to recognize that we might be residents of the Asylum for a very long time.

BTW: Dick’s secret to long life: Just keep breathing.

It’s another birthday, and all eight of us are still here. Still in reasonable shape for our age. What a great and unexpected blessing this is.

It is inevitable that one birthday in the future, there will no longer be 8 at the table. That will be unbelievably sad. But there will also be gratitude for all the laughs, support, and love that we shared.

There was a lovely cake and 2 kinds of ice cream. Plus lots of good endorphin-releasing chatter about “weighted cows”.

The 2025 Batworks is done. The bats are easy and fun to make. But, old eyes and old fingers are challenged by needles and fine black thread.

The main task today was to vote.

En route to the bus stop, I see a cloud of smoke. WTF?

Mistook a mechanic for fascism — an honest mistake in 2025.

Hopped on the bus for a quick ride out to what I call the Police Station. I think they call themselves a “Government Center”. Everything was fully operational. No waiting. I was planning on Ubering back to The Asylum, but my app said that the bus was only one light away. Seemed silly to pay more and wait longer for Uber.

People, we gotta vote. 
Even in the off-year elections. 
Even if our candidate has no chance of winning. 
Even if we hate all the candidates. 
Even if we think our vote doesn't count. 
If we don't vote, for sure it doesn't count.

My watch said it was time for a nice brisk walk today. For once I agreed with my watch.  So, off I went. 

Pondered the demolition of the East Wing of the White House as I walked. That helped get my heart rate up out of the “moderate” range. Guess I could hop on the bus and go see the desecration with my own eyes. But I don’t think my cardiovascular system could stand the stress. 

A foundling orchid bloomed today — always a surprise and always a small win.

Meanwhile, he blew up another boat and killed two more people. We have to stop our government — and soon. I’ll go vote tomorrow. Might be the last time I’m allowed to.

For tonight, I’m sticking with the orchids. I’ve apparently become my grandmother — except her fixation was African violets.

At this age, you learn to admire small blooms while Rome burns — multitasking for the apocalypse.

Decided to get serious about what to take on this upcoming insane trip: fall → tropical → winter, with a very strange plane ride wedged in the middle.

You’re in more trouble when you walk to REI and inspect bigger backpacks. Not a smart move at 80+.  I am getting weaker by the day. Not stronger. I walked back home from REI empty-handed. Everything will fit into my trusty 25-liter pack. I will mail all the “tropical” clothes back to the Asylum from Kona.

Backpack: 15 pounds. Not an ounce more.
They sell clothes in Kona and Tokyo.

Funny day today. Mostly ’cause AWS has a hangover. Heck, I had to turn my lights and coffee pot on and off myself. How 3rd world is that? I couldn’t even pay for my January cruise or select a seat on a flight to Honolulu. What’s a person to do?

I did sneak a peek at the stats on my Seditious Elders video. Mildly smug to have had over 200 views. I tell myself, “it doesn’t matter”. But myself knows. Bigger numbers are better. Even if one isn’t an “influencer”.

How could anyone aspire to be an “influencer”? Just 21st-century snake oil salespeople.

Ain’t AI grand? Early yesterday morning, I encountered a fluffy fox on the Wilderness trail. (I know, it could be better. But I was too lazy to put the leaves back in place,)

By this time next week, I should be in San Diego. AWS willing;

Honor the old folks who were making good trouble. Watch in full screen. Thanks! — Your Elderly Photographer.

And the seditious old folks at The Asylum organized a fine No Kings Rally.

I am too tired of my 300+ photos and my computer to do any more tonight.Down from 313 to 63. Aiming for 55 before I start a slide show. People will only watch for so long.

But, here are some rushes.

 

Most of the day was spent figuring out how to make origami lantern flies. And, I worked on a very complicated minimalist packing list for my upcoming 17,693-mile misadventure. Going from fall to tropical to winter. Must fit into my 25-liter backpack. And not weigh more than 15 pounds. 

But, it was too nice to stay indoors. So, my trees from the street.

At this instant, I am in my bed. Which is now in cozy winter mode. I wonder what will happen when I get too old and decrepit to wash the summer stuff and put it in the trunk and get the winter stuff out. You think about these things as you slump gracefully toward decrepitude.

Remember this wonderful entrée from last night’s menu?

Well here it is.

I took one for the team and ordered it. The server clearly pitied me and added a hefty serving of salmon, as if to apologize on behalf of the kitchen.

So I asked ChatGPT about it, and this was the verdict:

Oh, yes — “Creamy Yucca with coconut, lima beans, and crispy kale” sounds like something dreamed up by a chef who’s never actually eaten it.

Even if they meant yuca (cassava), that combo’s still suspicious: you’ve got a heavy starchy root mixed with lima beans (more starch) and coconut (fat), then topped with crispy kale (token virtue). It’s a confused dish — part Caribbean, part vegan café experiment.

If it really is yucca (the spiky landscaping plant), well, then the menu might literally be inedible.

That’s not dinner. That’s a dare.

I wish I could take credit — but nope — that came from The Robot.

Busy day for an old woman.
Did my semi-annual fridge cleaning, washed the summer bedding, and deployed the winter set. Also spent some time on Bat Duty for The Asylum.

Looks like my window needs washing. But, that’s not something I can do. So, I’ll just admire the orchid. 

And dear reader. This is the lead item on tonight’s menu.

They didn’t even spell yuca correctly.

“Yuca” is a starchy root vegetable, also called cassava.
“Yucca” is an ornamental plant with spiky leaves.
They are two entirely different plants. — Google, ever helpful.

I wish I could say the rest of the menu was better.

Nice nice day today.

Every year, I keep an eye on these three maples outside my window. I’m leaving five days earlier than usual this year, so I wonder if I’ll get to see them in full red glory.

Went for a walk with a 60-something friend this afternoon and found this hopeful sign along the way:

Meanwhile, back at the Asylum.

Think the weather will be in the 60s and cloudy for the Asylum Residents’ Protest. I want to go downtown to the hopefully HUGE protest. But, I think I’ll stay here and support the home team and maybe produce another video that can be sent to friends and family to show that we ain’t dead yet.

Thinking about getting ready for the trip. Well, how ready do I have to be?

Essentials:

• • • passport
    • credit card and debit card
    • glasses
    • prescription drugs
    • phone
    • phone charger
    • Nice to have – iPad (it uses the phone charger)
    • Even nicer to have for 2-month trip – MacBook and charger. 

Honestly, that’s all I really need. Everything can be acquired as needed. Jack Reacher Style. I plan to send everything except this list and a pair of granny panties, and a pair of compression socks home from Kona. Making the trip to Tokyo ultra-light. 

Time to work on gratitude. 

1. 1. Grateful that I made it to and survived yoga class.
   2. Grateful that Uber got me to yoga on time with no hassle.
   3. Grateful for the 52 Art bus that took me to the dentist
   4. Grateful the dentist and hygienist couldn’t find anything that needed fixing.
   5. Grateful for the Metro buses that delivered me home.
   6. I can’t remember the new route numbers, so I’m really grateful I got on the right ones.
   7. Grateful I can walk up to my apartment when 3 out of 4 elevators are on strike.

   I consider this stage of my life a bonus round. I no longer contribute to society. If the grid fails tomorrow, I’ll not be one of the survivors. I am grateful for today.

   

   That’s a block from the building Carlton and I lived in for 5 years. It’s right by my dentist. And the building in the photo is an old folks’ home that I would be living in, except it’s a condo. And I don’t do condos. 

   Grateful that I think I can still pull off this ridiculous 17,693-mile, two-month adventure.