I'm at my old house on Garden Home Road, and I start walking up the sidewalk uphill toward the intersection of Garden Home and Oleson. As I pass over the hill, I notice a mob of people coming toward me - some sort of political protesters. I'm surprised that there are so many of them, it seems like we've turned some sort of corner and finally the people are angry.

But I don't want to get tangled up with them, so I turn and start heading the other way back to my house. I walk for a while and then I'm pretty sure I passed it, but I didn't see it, so I turn around and start walking back up toward the intersection - at this point, moving against the tide of protesters with some difficulty. Also something goes wrong with my legs, they can barely move, like I'm walking through molasses. It's become a real struggle.

I find my house again, I think, but it's really small and run-down, I can hardly recognize it. It's just a cabin, about the size of my old Multnomah house. No wonder I missed it.