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The image shows a sunlit room filled with a diverse collection of green houseplants displayed on shelves, in pots, and on a large vertical garden structure, with city buildings visible through windows in the background.

The Sunday routine

August 2, 2026
On Sunday mornings before we go out for our walk, Dwight tends to the plants. Currently, they’re dispersed throughout our home, with the succulents enjoying the balcony. Before any long trip, all the plant racks are wheeled to one location so they can be connected to drip irrigation.
A tall, intricate metal sculpture, identified by a sign as TIME MACHINE, stands in a grassy and dirt area before a brick building with graffiti under a clear blue sky.

Yard work

August 1, 2026
Cycled through the sculpture yard at Casket Arts today, as I occasionally do. I was a bit disappointed not to see any works in progress (I always find the process so interesting), as there were only finished pieces on display. Maybe this piece, Time Machine, is reaching back through industrial history to speak of oxidation and decay. It feels fitting outside a building that once mass-produced coffins.
A wet paved path with yellow markings emerges from a concrete underpass into a verdant outdoor scene with trees and standing water.

Kicking the daemon down the road

July 31, 2026
​It was raining, so I walked over to the U. I’ve spent about 30 hours there this week, and my commitment continues in four-week units, depending on the results. At a minimum, I’m helping cancer research, but I’m also hoping to help myself by kicking my daemon further down the road.
A dishwasher's top rack is loaded with mostly teal silicone food storage containers and their lids, along with a few ceramic mugs.

Minimizing visits to Urgent Care

July 30, 2026
Arrived today: silicone food containers. Excruciating pain from a tiny shard of glass embedded in my foot from our old glass set brought me to Urgent Care twice. Although these containers are expensive, I don’t expect them to generate any Urgent Care copays. They’re oven-safe to 450°F, so I’ll just need to watch out for burns instead.
This image shows a divided view, with a fan, a wheeled stool, and a sink inside a room on one side, and a large yellow rubber duck floating among sailboats on the other.

A steamy ride

July 29, 2026
Delicious! The study nurse brought in a fan and pointed it right at me. I’d arrived overheated and soaked after a steamy 16-miler complete with a breakfast stop at Lake Harriet with Dwight and a huge rubber duckie.
George Forster: an anti-hierarchical Enlightenment mind

George Forster: an anti-hierarchical Enlightenment mind

July 28, 2026
Spent a full day being observed for my second dose of the study drug: plenty of time to finish The Traveler, a biography of polymath George Forster (ethnographer, travel writer, political radical, …). Aged 18, he joined Captain Cook’s second voyage. He defied prevailing Enlightenment thought by rejecting human rankings and hierarchies, maintaining that being a good or great person “is not bound to any particular place on Earth or to a privileged tribe.” Amen to that.
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Very nearly an armful of blood*

July 27, 2026
Got my first dose of the study drug, amB7-H3 TriKE. Here, tubes are lined up for one draw (the second of seven draws) as they monitor me over several hours. All of these are strictly for research, so the results won’t show up in my online medical record. *Inspired by a line from the classic 1961 BBC television episode “The Blood Donor” starring British comedian Tony Hancock.