life in the old lane

Word just flittered by reporting the firing of Billy Long as IRS commissioner. There has gotta be a damn good story there.

Just a normal, lazy old lady day. Made a couple of fine cranes from my absolutely best paper. That was a joy.

And, I continued with the “Sphag in a bag” treatment for orchid 2 of 10.

The orchid is supposed to stay in the plastic bag for a month. Then you put it on the compost pile! But I might learn something. I hope orchids don’t feel pain.

This was a nice purple orchid. It was a COVID New Year’s present from management.

However, today there are only 5 cases of COVID-19, and 4 of the cases are among employees. Employees are now called Team Members. Have no clue why. There are workers and management, AKA not-workers. That’s the way it was back in the day, anyhow.

Researched my new digs in Kona. According to Google Maps, I am about 3 minutes farther away from most places I visit on a regular basis. 3 walking minutes. Google thinks I walk faster than I do. So, say it’s 5 minutes. No biggie.

I believe it’s time for an adult beverage.

Ah, technology. No peace. It’s always something.

Yesterday, as soon as I finished the blog, I decided it was time to get my Halloween to Xmas Eve Hawai’i plans nailed down. Text the people who handle the condo. Hearts and Hibiscus emojis come back. So happy they are that I am returning. Yes, they have my time blocked off. The price they quote is more than fine. Coffee and a pickup at the airport are promised. Aloha, see you on Halloween. Not five seconds pass, and I get a text that says OOPS. We accidentally rented some of “your” days. Sad face emoji. Well, sorry. That’s not going to work. Sad face emoji.

Well, that’s the price you pay for not owning your own place. But it’s a small price. I scuttled around VRBO and found what I hope will be a satisfactory place. It’s at the outer limit of my grocery store walking range. And the laundry is in the basement, not in the apartment. But it will be fine. And, if it isn’t – I’ll leave. Go to Papeete.

So. With that accomplished, what to do but work on the dying orchid?

I take it outside and remove it from the pot, and cut off all the dead roots. And all the roots were dead. But the arial roots are fine. I submerge what’s left in a bucket of water

Now what? Should have devised a plan before starting. Ask ChatGPT.

ChatGPT told me to get the orchid out of the bucket immediately and let it dry. Then it described a possible rescue plan:

Sphag-n-Bag Method (traditional recovery)

Wrap the base of the orchid and the aerial roots loosely in moist (not wet) long-fiber sphagnum moss.

Place in a clear plastic bag (like a gallon Ziploc) with air holes or opened once a day to prevent mold.

Keep in bright indirect light, warm temps, good humidity.

Wait. Over weeks to months, the orchid may grow new roots into the moss.

When new roots are at least 2–3 inches long, you can re-pot in bark.

✅ Best for: slow, stable root recovery.
🚫 Downside: can mold if you’re not careful.

ChatGPT was pleased that I am making a serious effort to save the orchid. We’ll see.

But today’s real accomplishment was: 17 minutes 22 seconds mile. Who knows I might even break the 17-minute mile!

Woke up this morning — that’s a good thing. Looked across my room and realized that the country has taken a turn that negates my entire belief system — that’s not a good thing.

Gratitude

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As of dinner last night – The Asylum has started using real dishes and flatware! Celebrate little victories.

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The sun has been hiding. I rather like sun.

So, want to see what there is to see at 9:30am if you are doing 3 laps around to get in your first mile of the day?

My floor is having a little celebration for a neighbor who will be 100. I saw another neighbor walking back from the grocery store. He is over 100. I don’t think my family’s genetics will help me reach 100. I think I am past my “sell by date” already. But, living to be 100 is rather terrifying.

OH Dear. Big problems in my personal tech world.
Mouse Battery Very Low.

Saw this fine fungus yesterday while on my post dinner walk around The Asylum.

And yes boys and girls, we did listen to a song titled “There was a fungus among us” way back in 1958.

Of course, there actually is a fungus among us now.

And what about this? I had my phone in my pocket. And it started an email with nothing except this image as an attachment. The image is not mine. I have never seen it. Maybe I shouldn’t blame the phone. Maybe one of the LLMs that I spend too much time with is achieving singularity right in my very own Pixel phone.

Went to in person yoga today for the first time in a couple of months. I am taking refuge in an ibuprofen bottle.

Been back a week now. I can leave anytime on my next adventure. Starting to lay in plans for Halloween – Xmas. Nothing fixed yet.

But, I did implement my accept and adapt eating plan today.

I shopped. I found my apron. I sharpened my knives. I sliced, diced, and sautéed. Finished with butter, pepper, and good balsamic vinegar. (Because that’s what I had in the cupboard.)

After enjoying my lunch (the chicken spent about 45 seconds too long in the heat), I cleaned up. Made coffee and had a nap. I am content. 

And I am still not complaining about it being too cool for August.

Indeed, I went out and read some on my “private” patio. Seriously, I have never seen anyone else using it. It used to have rather ratty old metal chairs. It’s been gentrified. People will discover it.

Last Sunday, I was on the train crossing Montana.

If it works — don’t fix it. That’s what I am going to do about my 9 year old WordPress theme. I am going to keep using it. I consulted with ChatGPT and it agrees with my decision.

For almost 60 years I wanted a computer like “Computer” on StarTrek. The Large Language Models are scary close to that. I might not live long enough to see how it plays out. But I am damn curious.

Not that I mind — I’m not complaining that it’s only 79° in the middle of the afternoon. In the DMV. In August.

Made the most of the cool morning: covered a mile in 17 minutes and 37 seconds. My normal summer goal is to get it done in under 20 minutes.

I may have mentioned that the food “needs improvement” here at the Asylum. There’s nothing I can do about it. Accept and adapt. For about a year, I was in full WTF mode. I ate way too many hot dogs and grilled cheese sandwiches (with bacon). And chips or fries. Also, BLTs with lots of mayo. All that showed up in my blood lipid panel — and earned me a scolding from my doctor.

Time for a new plan.
Old plan: Asylum breakfast, a very small self-made lunch, and Asylum dinner.
New plan: Asylum breakfast (as long as we keep the current breakfast cook), a hearty lunch that I prepare myself, and a light Asylum repast at dinner. The reason to keep showing up for dinner at all? “Socialization” — supposedly important for old farts like me.

I don’t mind feeding myself. I did it for years. I do it in Hawai‘i. Time to make a proper trip to the grocery store and stock the cupboard and freezer. Policy has been made. Now it’s simply a matter of implementation.

Trying to avoid a beginning… My WordPress theme. I’ve been using it since 2017. Before that, I changed themes at least once a year. But this one works for me. It does use some “old kind” HTML and doesn’t collapse very gracefully on small screens. So maybe it’s time for a change — but doing so might seriously endanger the first 16 years of the WordPress version of the blog. (The first 9 years are hand-coded in HTML and wouldn’t be affected.)

Somewhere in the empty sweep of the Bering Sea, we dropped anchor off the west coast of St. Matthew Island — one of the most remote bits of land in the entire United States. We came ashore by Zodiac, landing on a gravel beach strewn with the massive carcasses of dead whales, slowly returning to sand in the wind and mist. There were no signs of humans, no structures, not even driftwood shelters — just silence, surf, and the wild weight of distance. This was not just the edge of Alaska; it is the edge of the world.

Most of my shipmates came to see the elusive McKay’s Bunting, a pale little songbird found nowhere else on Earth. But St. Matthew holds more than rare birds. Once home to a runaway herd of reindeer (that famously overpopulated and starved), it has a quiet, eerie history of brief human presence and long, icy solitude. The island is now part of the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge — protected, uninhabited, and untouched. 

Taking the easy way out, I let ChatGPT draft the description and I am using someone else’s photo of the little white bird. I saw it, that very bird. But, it really wasn’t any kind of a deal to me. And, I didn’t have the proper gear to photograph it anyhow.

Finished plowing through the emails today.

The best thing about being home is yelling: Computer COFFEE. And, if I remembered to put water and coffee in the machine, a few minutes later there is COFFEE. 12 steps away from my bed. I can walk right over to the counter in the altogether, pour a cuppa, and take 12 more steps back to my bed with coffee in hand. That’s a real Old Bat Cave luxury. 

“They” said there was going to be a storm. I went outdoors to welcome it. Not much of a storm. But outdoors is good.

I trimmed up my garden box and dead-headed my orchids today. Also, processed about ½ of the “important” emails.

Tom Lehrer and Ozzy Osbourne have died. But Sir Mic and Keith Richards still live.

Time to clean up after the trip. I am not doing anything that involves money or sharp instruments today. But I got unpacked and the laundry is done.

Seems that I covered over 10,000 miles. Not too shabby.

 

Mode	Miles
Air	3,700 mi
Bus	140 mi
Train	2,986 mi
Ship	3,509 mi
Total	10,335 mi

And, according to my watch, I walked 104 miles. According to Lightroom, I took 1,485 photos. I will be doing a lot of deleting. But, let’s look at a couple of those images.

It was a great trip. Thank you old body for not failing me.

The last day is usually pretty dull and pretty long, but I have my rituals.

Then get off the train and get along home.

Catch the Red Line to Shady Grove. Ride two stops to Gallery Place.

At Gallery Place, transfer to the Yellow Line going to Huntington. Leave the underground at Pentagon City.

Wait for the A40 bus. Which comes by every 12 minutes or so.

And, in less than an hour, I am back in the Asylum. I don’t think that Uber would be faster or easier. 

It was a great little adventure. All I have done is take a shower and eat a little dinner. Tomorrow: unpack, do some chores, and figure out “what now”. 

This trip on the Empire Builder has been splendid. Maybe I was on the good side of the train. Maybe I was looking out the window at the right time. Maybe it’s the best time of year. Maybe I am just lucky.

As of this instant, 3:30 PM, my plan is to get on the train in Chicago and go back to the asylum. Never mind for Covid. Or the fact that they seem to be having air conditioning troubles in my building. Why? Have I lost my marbles? Maybe. But truth of the matter is, I am in head for the barn mode and once I start heading for the barn, there’s nothing to do but to finish the run and get back to my own bed and if I don’t like it, I can always leave again.