Well.. guess some of your “ forgetting things” has flown over to me, here in CA..

I walked out of my house yesterday for my last thumb arthritis pt appointment not realizing ( at the time) I had, indeed, left the iPhone sitting in my kitchen.

Panic ensued when I got to the office and was futzing around in my bag to let them know I was there, but the phone wasn’t.

I have not seen the therapist in 3 months and this was to be my very last appointment unless I go the route through our physician, which, as you know, takes forever.

Instead of concentrating and having a good last appointment, all I could think about was the darned phone!

She was kind enough to call it for me, but, then, who would answer? You can’t do the “ find my iPhone” trick, either! 😣

At the almost end of the session, she ☎️ my 🏠 landline 📞 and my husband said “ 👋, yes Karen, your iPhone is here”, without even knowing who was calling 😬..

With our traffic now ( the Murray Bridge is closed for 2 years! Yes, years!!)! everyone drives in the neighborhood and, of course, 💨.. I want to put up a sign that says “ You may be heading home, but we ARE, so drive responsibly”.. Ha! They would not see it because of their speed..

Off my soapbox..

“Eye opener”.. let’s hope it not only IS open, but can continue to see…

So glad you have a great sense of taste.. in clothes and your husband, who is not “ himself” lately, but you are a great partner. 😇

Oh, my gosh. Were you along for that event too? I've been trying to remember where I was when that occurred. Isn't it astonishing how scarring and unerasable an incident like that is?

The meeting with Gramma - would that have been at her mobile home in Gladstone, when Harry was still alive but suffering from that horrible stroke? That day is another one that's going to get set down here someday.
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That is pretty cute, isn't it! Two things are going on here though - it's a head-on crash between the keypad and my vision issues (and not my hyperactivity, except tangentially). I was at this for a couple of hours. I woke up at two for the usual reasons, and thought I'd knock off a quick, short post before going to bed for a couple more hours. It didn't happen, and two hours later it just kept coming out, one odd association or remembrance or refinement at a time.

Which is fine. It's a side of me you've been familiar with when it drove you nuts that I'd come home in the wee hours after playing chess over at Hoover's house. Why are you upset, since you were asleep anyway? I just didn't get it at the time. My apologies, 57 years later.

The trouble now though is that my vision is at the worst then, just before I'm due for my next prednisone dose. It's hard to look at the bright screen, the keyboard is blurry, and I'm continuously hitting an adjacent key. I'm working at training myself away from early work like this and time boxing it into a different slot. In this case you get some gibberish generated from the spell checker, but also I regularly hit the all caps key when aiming for the A key. It's one of the reasons that I suspect that the mad king also has GCA fronting his malicious insanity.
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Yikes! These walks down memory lane are heavy and yet exhilarating. Grandma Woodings, met only once and yet so memorable. And that dark night of the poor unsuspecting canine. A memory that can go back to sleep, thank you very much.

Wow we are so lucky that you are so verbal. I recognize much of your experience having been an elephant in the room myself a time or two. I think we are lucky to be in the left coast in times like these. A place of innovation and thinking outside the box. My favorite takeaway from this entry is the word “quipestion.” Whether real or invented, intended or accidental, I love it.
Keep on keepin’ on, traveler. Just mind the gap.

Thanks. It has all my favorite colors!

Yes, that's so sad. PIFF died about five years back, after a 50 year run. All those community-centered events started drying up when folks moved in to watch Hulunand laugh alone in silence. We had no idea what a golden age we grew up in.

I saw Amadeus there when I was living over off Aurora. What a wonderful neighborhood theater it was. I'm glad SiFF has save the Cinema, but it looks like SIFF might need saving.

Keep on keepin' on Scott! Carpe diem. I am grateful and thankful for you sharing such a personal story. It lingers in the bones. Wishing you all the best heading into your next adventure. Tail winds.

Well, that was a short stint among the gods! Banished from the Pantheon! I understand, know why you're there wearing multiple hats, and we appreciate both of them. Thanks for the careful readership, and for the hot tip.

I'm stumbling to keep up but I got most of the references. I think. I do agree with the Arlo designation, although would like to stay out of the pantheon of demigods for now. BTW, the children's film "Moana" has a great song about demigods, called "You're Welcome". You'll want to watch the clip because it's hilarious.

I don't know why I was so taken with them, but I really loved the colors and the bleed. I suspect that it was from growing up in a house with art around and watching mom paint. For years she supplemented the family budget by colorizing graduation photos back before color. Photography was widely available. I'd come home from school and the counter would be covered with an array of works in progress. She went on eventually to get her degree at the UW (ooh - there's another post to come that I hadn't thought of - I'll bet it pops up soon) and ended her working career as the head of the art advisory office at the UW. It's only gradually that it's sunk in that I grew up in an unusually rich artistic and musical household and how much it's helped shape who I am. Suddenly I have this sort of Dorian Gray self image, me on that counter and she adding some color to my life. Oops, there comes another crazy post too. Cause I've got high hopes, I've got high hopes (see, still mad as a hatter).

Hey, welcome back! I've been lurking your way too, and was so sorry to see the way your last attempt at the GDR ended up. Have you healed yet?

Remarkably enough, we're gradually realizing there's a terrific future still out there for TA, one that will bring us closer to home more often to manage our needle supply so it will be easier to keep in touch.

We've got a rental car for the last four weeks before we fly back to London, and I've been looking at driving down to Mt Angel for a loop through the flats and foothills before we leave. Maybe I could swing by and see how that puppy is coming along while he's still so young.

Love to you both, and in spite of all the trauma don't worry about us - now anyway, though I get it that I sounded pretty scary for a while there. Probably still do to some! We're figuring it out though and are fine.

On Jul 2, 2025, at 10:10 PM, CycleBlaze wrote:

Hello Scott,

Ron Suchanek posted the following comment in the journal Prednisone Dreams:

I've been away from the blog for quite a while. Turns out, raising a puppy is labor-, not to mention, dollar- intensive. Who knew? Anyway, I'm just getting caught up here and, wow, what a ride. Its been a challenge for me to get a handle on the chronology of events, so I've given up on that and just absorbed as much as I could. I'm sorry you, and Rachael, are having to endure this ordeal. I hope all continues to be well going forward. And let's all hope Prednisone isn't a gateway drug. Take care, friend! Hope to see you soon