Tuesday, July 31, 2007

It was hot today. Not so hot that I nearly spontaneously combusted, but hot enough so that when I picked some cucumbers in the garden and cut them for a salad, I realized they were starting to cook. Tomorrow it's supposed to be even hotter, so I was thinking of adding some water to the potted tomato vine and seeing if we end up with soup for dinner.

(I know what you're thinking: "that's absurd!" And it is. Sorry.)

Monday, July 30, 2007

I did my best today to avoid another posting about golf Monday. I really didn't have anything else to say, so here it is: I shot a 37 on the front and had a small problem on the back involving 92 golf balls, a half-hour reprise, a bog, and a slight temper-tantrum that resulted in a 51 on the back nine. Whoops. I'll leave you to piece everything together.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

I'm sure you've noticed the relative lack of quality posts. The buck doesn't stop here: nothing of particular note happened today. Sarah and I went to church this morning; I preached; we went to the 'potluck' afterwards. We came home and read the newspaper. We watched an hour special about ice cream on PBS. We went out for ice cream. (I wonder if there's any correlation there...). We went for our nightly 3-mile walk. We watched TV. I couldn't stop eating. I couldn't form a compound sentence. The end.

Two bonus points for reading through the whole post.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Long story short, he asked me not to stand there anymore.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Long story short, I decided to never to stick my finger in there again.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

"Oh, good news: I saw a dog today!" It's what happened. But two bonus points if you can name the movie and the actor who first said it.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Still here. Shot 86 yesterday. Golf. Not people. More later. Posts. Not shootings.

Friday, July 20, 2007

I managed to stop eating. (I know you were worried...I was). In case you were wondering, here is a list of things I didn't eat:

Monday, July 16, 2007

Dad and I found out that a course down the street offers a 2 for 1 deal on Mondays, so, naturally, Monday has turned into golf day; we ended up playing 36 holes this morning/midmorning/noon/afternoon. It's great, considering that we both thought we'd never play again (due to injuries and deteriorating abilities on both our parts). I managed to play one nine (the first) at even par (that's [generally] a 36 for you golf neophytes out there), but I didn't shoot in the 70's (80 and 83). Still great, considering the fact that I took the last 7 years off. Here's to Mondays (and Dad's open wallet)!

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Church. Twelve-mile bike ride. Basketball. Dinner. TV. I guess it doesn't really take very many words to sum up a day. Tomorrow, I play golf, so I'd imagine there will be more words; we'll see.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

It was cold today. And hot. And windy. And rainy. And cloudy. And sunny. Not in that order. The weather, it's real again...

Friday, July 13, 2007

The summer of cats continues. Yesterday, Mom, Dad, Sarah, and I were on our daily walk, and I heard an animal SCREAMING from a swamp by the road. We stopped, and a kitten came crashing through the bushes. Shaking like a leaf, the kitten moved from person to person, unsure whether it wanted to be picked up or to run away. After surveying the situation (no collar, no people/houses around, totally freaked out cat), Mom carried the cat home. After spending some time with the kitty, it was clear the little bundle of nerves had been raised in the wild: I've never seen a cat so small and yet so muscular and acrobatic. It (she) actually reminded me of a monkey, jumping wildly after flies and doing flips on the ground. But she was a little wild (feral, for you cerebral types): for instance, she freaked when she figured out that there was water collected in a bowl, jumping in and out of it, dipping her face in (our theory was that the mother nursed her in the wild, and the kitten never had to drink from a bowl, stream, pond, etc.). Most interesting is this cat's coloring: the only way I can describe it is a black and dark gray striped cat with orange stripes layered slightly under the surface of the black and dark gray stripes. Very unique coloring. Now we just need to find her a home (not us)...

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Yesterday, it was 95 degrees with high humidity. Today it is 65 degrees with no humidity. I've written before about the weather in California, but this 30-degree swing (not that I mind) would have sent "the OC" (as only people outside of Orange County call it) into a tailspin. There would be breaking news bulletins preempting our favorite TV programs, and the newspaper headlines would proclaim things like "Wacky Weather", "Weird Weather", and "What the Heck!? The Sky is Falling!!". In Michigan the recent swings in weather are known as Wednesday.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

What did I do yesterday, you ask? In the morning, Dad and I played 18 holes of golf. After we got home, Dad went back to the pond to rake seaweed out, and after deciding that it was too hot in the house to do anything (95 degrees), I followed, and we played in the muck with the seaweed until about 6. Later, I worked on a friend's computer for about two hours, and then Mom, Sarah, and I went for a 3-mile walk. The end.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Today's post marks the 500th of this blog. Hold your applause. No...applaud. I didn't say stop.

Friday, July 06, 2007

I read a book today. Everything was going along just fine until the last 20 pages. It was as if the author painted himself into a corner, couldn't figure out what to do with the story, and ended it 50 pages early. I have a good mind never to read again. Starting...now.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

I didn't eat any bugs or see any fawns today, so I guess I don't really have anything to report. It was raining this morning, so we splurged and went to the movies (actually, Dad splurged; we just mooched--Evan Almighty was good). It cleared up in the afternoon, and now, at 11:21 PM, it's so muggy that I want to go and jump in the pond. I'll let you know what happens.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

This morning, I poured the remaining Cinnamon Toast Crunch into a bowl with some milk and sat down to have breakfast. As I ate my first few bites, I noticed some small black 'floaties' in amongst my cereal. Just junk from the bottom of the box, I thought; I looked closer; they were moving. As it turns out, they were ants, and I had been eating them. Perhaps more strangely, I found myself actually weighing whether to finish my breakfast or to throw it out. I'll leave you to guess what I decided.

Today's slogan: Ants, they do a body good. (runner up: an ant a day keeps the doctor away). In an unrelated matter, does anyone know where I can pick up an anteater (UCI is NOT an option)? Also, I finished today's round of golf with 5 pars and a birdie; dare I to hope...

Monday, July 02, 2007

Mom, Sarah, and I were walking around the block today (not what you think--it's a farming community--blocks are 3 miles) and had a once-in-a-lifetime experience. We were nearing the end of our trip and walking a somewhat solitary strech of dirt road. To our right, some horses were feeding under a tree in a bare barnyard; to our left was an open field, green with young corn (or weeds; to be honest, I don't remember). Some movement caught my eye, and I turned to see a creature galloping straight for us. Its legs flailed with each bound, and, at first, I thought it was a funny looking hound. But as it neared, I realized it was a terrified young fawn, sprinting (like a chubby kid with a fistfull of dollars after an icecream truck) straight for us. Snorting and bleeting like a goat, it stopped just short of us; its mother and sibling looked on from a treeline at the other side of the field. The white spots on its sides quivered with each breath, and indecision marred its delicate countenance. The horses stamped their feet in the background, and, for a moment, the fawn debated crossing the road and joining them in their pasture. We were caught entirely off guard: I didn't know whether to reach out and stroke its silky coat, or to watch it in awe, or to run from it. As the shaking ball of nerves stood inches away, we herded it back toward its mother and the safety of the trees. At first unsure, the fawn trotted hesitantly through the field, looking again at the horses. We turned toward home, afraid that our presence might scare the doe into leaving her young. As we parted, I felt sure that we would not be meeting again; our four lives had been fleetingly connected; but only for a moment; sometimes a moment is all you get. It was amazing, yet sad. I hope it found the doe.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

I spent a lot of time just wandering around the yard today. I played with the cats, hit some golf balls, walked back to the pond and watched the fish, valiantly fought some hornets (I didn't die) and played some basketball. It sounds like I did a lot, but when you spread it over about 12 hours, there was a lot of down time. There's just something I like about being outside in the summer doing nothing in particular. I think that's why I so detest apartment living--there's no "outside" where I can wander around (at least, not without running into 1453 other people, their dogs, and their dogs' poop). Land. I want some.