Writing that previous post brought back the earlier frustration I'd felt over not figuring out the solution for the mystery cache correctly. Then, right after I shut down the computer, a thought hit me: Is there more than one system of numbers for Braille? I looked up Braille in our dictionary and compaired it to the printout from the internet I'd been using. No, the numbers are the same in both places. Then I noticed something: The Braille pattern for 4 is very similar to the pattern for a decimal point. That's what I'd been doing wrong. It wasn't my calculation, it was my translation.

I was very much in the mood for yoga yesterday - more so than usual. I don't know why. Lynn invited me to a protest Friday night, but I turned her down - I was so much in the mood for yoga. I pushed myself during class. I kept losing myself in meditative states during the final Savasana. I slept deeply last night, and woke up early, feeling refreshed.

I did some early geocaching before Phillip woke up this morning. I discovered a scenic little park down by the houseboats, and found the cache.

Phillip and I did some more geocaching today, and achieved a couple of firsts. We logged our first locationless cache. Geocaching.com doesn't accept new locationless caches anymore, but the ones in existance remain active. Unlike a regular cache, where you go to a specific set of coordinates and find a hidden object, for a locationless cache, you find a specific type of object and post its coordinates. (I like analogies, and the analogy I came up with for this is that a regular cache is like map reading, while a locationless cache is like map making.) The object of our first logged locationless cache was a converted firehouse. (There are a couple of other locationless caches I know solutions for.)

Next, we went in search of a mystery cache. I thought I had it figured out, and we went to what I thought were the right coordinates, but didn't find anything like what the clues described. (If we parked 30 feet to the west of the cache, like the directions said, our car would be halfway up an embankment.) Later, when we got home, and read other people's logs, we knew we were in the wrong spot. I don't understand it. I have checked and re-checked my solution, and I don't know (yet) how else to solve the coodinates.

Next we went to the first of a pair of caches hidden by the same person. It was a difficulty 3 (out of 5) cache. Our GPS receiver led us to a large park in Wallingford, and pointed us to a specific corner of that park. We searched and seached for it, and eventually searched the entire park, just to make sure the GPS receiver wasn't deceiving us. We returned to the corner and seached some more. Then Phillip noticed an object that he was sure the cache was hidden inside of. There was no way to reach inside of the object, and no way to open it. Phillip was so sure the object held the cache that he had me photograph it before we gave up and went on to the next cache. We were disappointed by not finding two caches in a row, but reassured ourselves with the knowledge that we had never found a cache more difficult than 2.5.

At the next cache location (the second of the pair), Phillip found an object exactly like the one at the park. This was a brilliant cache. Not only was there a challenge in finding the hiding spot, but there was an additional challenge of figuring out how to get the cache out. Phillip solved the puzzle of retrieving the cache. Phillip then had an idea of how to retrieve the previous cache. I was skeptical. I agreed that we'd found the right location, but Phillip's solution didn't seem likely to me. We were tired of geocaching, however, so we went to Hansel's church's fundraising event.

The fundraising event was interesting, but I wish there was more of it. We got our car washed, ate some food, and listened to some music.

On our drive home, we decided to try that cache in the park after all. It was the right object, and Phillip's solution for retriving it was right on. That was our second first of the day: We found our first difficulty 3 cache.

On the first day of this month, our digital camera - the camera that Craig gave us about three years ago - broke. On a day of geocaching, I was snapping pictures and the camera just stopped working. Turn on the power switch, and the power goes on. But the instant you touch any button, the power goes off.

A co-worker of Phillip is upgrading to a better camera and sold us her year-old one today. (These have been an expensive couple of months.) I haven't actually used it yet. The first order of business was to skim through the manual. The second order of business was to save the photos from our old, broken camera. Fortunately, both cameras use the same size media card.

Digital cameras rely on computers, and computers being what they are, however, there were complications. The new camera isn't compatible with the old camera's photo software. The old computer wouldn't recognize the new camera, even though both cameras use identical USB cords and the new camera was loaded with the old camera's media card.

So I installed the photo software that came with the new camera onto our new computer. The photos uploaded just fine into a new album.

Next, I planned to back up the new album onto a ZIP disc, just like I've always done with all the photos from the old camera. But, where exactly were these new photo files? After a little over 45 minutes (no exaggeration) of searching, the photos were nowhere. I could look at the photos in the photo software, the "properties" tab told me a folder name and a file name, I saved one of the photos to the desktop, but every search for the folder name, every search for individual file names, every manual directory search, even a search for every *.jpg on c: couldn't find the new photos. Unless there's a hidden drive in this new computer that I don't know about, the photos didn't exist. And yet, they did exist - I could highlight a photo, copy it and paste it to the desktop. I was frustrated. I didn't know whether to blame the new software or Windows XP.

Finally, I highlighted all the new photos, selected "copy," and pasted them into a new folder I created on a ZIP disc. All the photos are now there, on the ZIP disc, as individual jpeg files, named exactly the same as they are in the photo software. I still have no idea where the files are in the computer's directory system.

Among the most common excuses for not showing up for an appointment in our clinic is: "I never got the reminder letter, so I didn't know when my appointment was." Whether or not you choose to believe the truthfulness of that excuse, I think it's significant that so many patients think it's a good excuse. When I'm scheduling a patient, very often I can tell that the person on the other end of the phone isn't writing down any of the information that I'm giving them. People rarely write anything down. If they do, it's typically as an afterthought. "And how do I get to your clinic?" is typically followed by one of two responses to my verbal directions: "Hold on - let me go find a pen." or "But you're going to send me a map, right?"

I wasn't in the mood for customer service today.

Meanwhile, geocaching continues to have unexpected bonuses. I was looking at a map of caches in the area, and wondering about the fact that there are no caches hidden on the Seattle University campus. I knew the answer, of course: Seattle University is a private school and permission to hide a cache either wasn't given or wasn't requested. But that started me thinking: In all the years that I've driven by Seattle University, I have never been on their campus. So I took an easternly detour on my walk home today. It's a beautiful campus, full of caching opportunites. I walked through the Student Center and past the lovely and fun architecture of The Chapel of St. Ignatius.

Phillip emailed me this morning and suggested that I look for the cache in Freeway Park on my way home from work. I've been thinking about that one, I responded, but it's a big park and I didn't have our GPS receiver. Even if you don't find it, replied Phillip, it would be a nice walk through the park.

So, I took a western detour on my walk home. I looked around, knowing only that I was looking for a bench west of the waterfalls. Despite the fact that my goal was actually east of the waterfalls, after only one false search, I found the right bench, and I found the cache. Even though it was raining slightly, I took off my jacket and bag, spread them over the opened cache, and hid the log behind The Telling, so that (I hoped) to passerbys, I'd just look like someone reading in the park.

The best science fiction is actually about our own society, in disguise. I don't remember where I originally heard that. That's why I enjoy Ursula K. Le Guin's science fiction. It reads less like science and more like social commentary.

After logging our find, I walked through The Convention Center, caught a 7 bus right away, and got home only about tem minutes later than usual.

I came home and did some drumming - a complicated rhythm called "Liberte." Bass, Slap, Slap (rest) Open, Open / (rest) Slap, Slap, Bass (rest) Slap. It isn't a simple Right, Left, Right pattern, either. It's: Right, Left, Right (rest) Right, Left / (rest) Left, Right, Left (rest) Left. After a while, I got it.

Church service this morning, The Day of Pentecost, ended with the hymn Hallelujah, We Sing Your Paises, accompanied by Natalie and Verlon on djembes. It was quite moving. I knew that Verlon played the djembe, but Natalie surprised me.

My own drumming used to be a daily practice. Then, somehow, it became a weekly event. Then, somehow, it fell into a whenever-I-think-about-it event. Today's service jolted me into getting my djembe under my hands again soon.

I had the apartment to myself for most of this afternoon. Phillip was working overtime. (I've checked under the bed for pods.) It was the prefect opportunity to get some drumming in, except for the deadline for the Church Council Meeting Minutes and The Tidings report (which really have to be done together). It was a nice, quiet afternoon for writing.

I must drum more.

I am exhausted. My head hurts.

Late Friday night, I dragged Phillip out of bed and together we returned to the cache (close to the yoga classroom) and re-glued the magnet.

Saturday morning, I worked on the Church Council minutes and read some more of The Telling, by Ursula K. Le Guin, while I ran virus and spyware scans on the computer. I began thinking that this month's Centralites At Play event was coming up soon. I checked, and yes - it was Saturday night.

Saturday afternoon, Phillip and I did more geocaching. We looked for five and found four. The Evil Penguin continutes to elude us. It surprises me how many pockets of wilderness we're finding in the city. The last cache we looked for (and found) was in a nicely landscaped pea patch community garden.

I'm glad I thought to check on the CAP event, and that we didn't miss it. It was Gay Bingo, sponsored by Allen. There were twelve of us from Central. I had never been to Gay Bingo before last night. Phillip and I had planned to go several times in the past, but something kept coming up. Phillip's been, before he met me. It was a blast - a lot more fun than straight bingo.

The theme for last night was Madonna. No one in our group dressed up in costume, except for Jeff, who dressed in a general '80's theme. Someone (there is a theory as to who) embarrassed Pastor Shannon by submitting a note to the MC asking her to stand up and explain to the crowd, "What, exactly, does 'Love Is Central' mean?" No one in our group won a round of bingo.