I just sent out the Evite for Frank's memorial on July 5th. If you didn't receive a copy and you'd like to go, let me know.

Next up, choose the poems and music. We may reprise some of those that I read at Toast­mas­ters. Certainly, we should read “How to Eat a Slug”.

Perhaps the most ir­refutable sign of middle age for me was getting pro­gres­sive lenses six months ago.

I had noticed for several months that I was having a little difficulty with smaller print, and a visit to the op­tometrist confirmed that I needed reading glasses. Now I'm near-sighted and far-sighted, all at the same time.

The new glasses took some getting used to. I had been accustomed to looking through any part of the lens. Now I had to tilt my head downwards rather than simply turn my eyes down, if I wanted to look at the floor, or I'd be looking through the short-distance reading portion.

These lenses are …continue.

I just posted this message to Frank's favorite newsgroups, soc.motss and rec.arts.movies.past-films.

Frank Maloney was a longtime regular in this newsgroup. After a long illness, he died on January 6th, 2009 at his home.

Some of Frank's friends are helping Lyndol, his partner of more than 30 years, to put together a memorial for Frank. It'll be held near Seattle on the afternoon of July 5th.

Frank was a published poet and we'll be reading some of his poems. But he also spent more than 20 years par­tic­i­pat­ing in newsgroups, posted thousands of articles, and made many online friends. It seems fitting for us to read some of his voluminous output.

We'd …continue.

Other people must think I'm a grown up or something. I've been invited to a couple of dinner auctions in the last year. We were invited to one for Choral Arts tonight by one of the primary organizers. Emma was feeling unwell, so I went by myself.

I flat out made a donation and bought some raffle tickets. I also won two modest items in the auction, tickets for Arts West and five voice lessons.

I have little natural aptitude for music. I found it difficult to keep time on a triangle in the class “orches­tra” when I was a kid. Songs and music don't stick in my head. I might—might—rec­og­nize a …continue.

I initially learned to drive on the left in Ireland, but have spent the last 20 years driving on the right in the States. I personally never had any difficulty switching from one side to the oth­er—ex­cept when extremely jet­lagged—but I know several people who find it enormously stressful. I find it easy enough to orient myself so that the lane divider is at the correct position.

When I was a kid, my father often brought his Irish car over to mainland Europe on the car ferries. A right-hand drive car driving on the right is doubly tricky. It didn't seem to bother him too much, but …continue.

Emma turned 50 today. She was a mere (late) thirty-something when I met her.

We had dinner at The Georgian in the classic Fairmont Olympic hotel. Until a few years ago, it was the Four Seasons. The Georgian is in an old-fashioned dining room with soaring ceilings that mutes the con­ver­sa­tion. The waiters were attentive and made us feel welcome.

The food is not out­ra­geous­ly ex­pen­sive—we both chose to have the prix fixe dinner at $49. I had the wine for an additional $20. The pre­sen­ta­tion was superb and we both enjoyed the food. An asparagus salad, followed by chicken wrapped in apple-smoked bacon, and the black-and-white soufflé. Scallops were an al­ter­na­tive …continue.

I mentioned last month that we were re­fi­nanc­ing our house. We signed the escrow papers today. Aside from the snafu over which Eastside Starbucks to meet in, it went without a hitch.

The new mortgage kicks in on June 1st.

I gave a poetry reading tonight, of Frank Maloney's poems. I'm working through a book of In­ter­pre­tive Reading projects at Freely Speaking Toast­mas­ters. I had to read some poetry for tonight's project and Frank's work was an obvious choice. (Had I remembered, I would have recorded the reading and made a podcast.)

Frank was most active as a poet in the 1970s when he published his collection, How to Eat a Slug.

Six poems follow that give a taste of his work. The material in [square brackets] I omitted from the reading.

I fear going into my home office. It's a huge mess of clutter, books piled everywhere, boxes of unsorted papers, crap all over my desk. (No, it's not as bad as the ac­com­pa­ny­ing photo.)

My office overwhelms me. As a result, I don't go in there, except to drop more stuff off and make it worse. I rarely use the desktop system there.

The living room couch has become my sub-office. I sit there of an evening and surf the web from my laptop. I pull out the bills every couple of weeks and take care of them from the couch. Then I dump them in the office.

I know what the solution is. I've …continue.

In Seattle, it is said that moss grows on the north side of the rain. To be sure, moss thrives in the shadier parts of our yard.

On a cold, dry February day, I rented a pressure washer with the intention of scouring the moss from the ground and the flaking paint from the garage walls. Although it was quite effective at removing moss, it made a godawful mess. There were muddy flecks of moss everywhere. Against the flaking paint, it made little impression and I still have to deal with that. I had dealt with perhaps a third of the moss when the pressure washer died. I got a partial refund, but …continue.