superman without the metaphor

Thank you, Dad. So much.

happy birthday, happiness

205 years ago, manna fell from heaven. It fell onto Perth, Scotland. Food? Almost. Sanctification? Undeniably.

revival

Today I had to do the unthinkable – go to Wal-Mart. It was just a quick trip, and I was pleasantly greeted by a cute old man with a big wrinkly smile. So what could go wrong? Well, nothing exactly, except the human scenery was a bit different than I remembered from my last trip. I was soon to discover that, the one, the only, the incomparable Insane Clown Posse was in town for the six annual gathering of the juggalos, and their carnival of carnage followers had all flocked to Wallyworld this morning to buy things like soda, extra toothbrushes and chain saw blades (I’m only guessing). Some of you may not be familiar with this legendary (now duo) group. Think Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec moonlighting as a television evangelist on mescaline and donning all flannel. ANYWAY, kids are precious these days, aren’t they?

The big thing that happened to me this week is that I learned how to knit. Oh yes. Knit and pearl ladies and gentlemen. So far, Winston loves his new blue scarf. Though, there is the fever of revival in the air, and I fear that when I'm not looking, he may tear it to shreds.

stuck cold

The last week has been so miserably hot here. Today I didn’t even run because I think that I picked up a little heat exhaustion, which depresses me a bit, not the heat exhaustion but the not running piece. Still, I’ve been watching Food Network and trying to take it easy while watching Paula make biscuits over a fire pit with a shovel at a civil war fort in Savannah. She’s crazy ya’ll. I wish I could get away with saying, “ya’ll” like Paula, or my cousin who is a Vandy girl and has the “ya’ll” down cold. But it just doesn’t sound right streaming past my lips. I think I’ll have to live in Savannah for a few months out of the year to be able to pass it off.

Last Friday and Saturday, Peninsula had a little Harry Potter festival. Well, it wasn’t “little” at all, though Peninsula is a quaint village. There were hundreds of kids dressed up like little witches and wizards walking up and down the streets. All of the shops changed their names to something in Diagon Alley (even the Baptist church). There were so many wonderful things that were happening on Saturday morning, which is when I went through. It’s not just the typical story, how good it is for kids to be reading and excited about it, etc… it was as if there was this second Halloween in a small New England town and a Summer October that gave a reprieve from all of the heat and wetness. The sky was overcast and growing darker by late morning, so the setting and mood were completely complementary. Oh, I know I’m romanticizing it, as I tend to do with little scenes like this, but I can’t help but be encouraged by something of the magical now and then. So, I guess a more appropriate plan would be a few months of the year in Savannah and a few months of the year in New England. Now, if I could just figure out those little secrets to success – well of a kind.

As for the picture: Coco wanted an ice cube because Winston was eating one. So, being the good friend to animals that I am, I gave the 20 pound dog an ice cube. She took it under the table and in under about 10 seconds it had frozen to her skin. She didn't seem to mind, other than the fact that she was trying to eat it off her face. She posed with a picture before my mom and I ran hot water over it so it would fall off. And not to be discouraged by a little face ice trauma, she picked the half melted cube right off the floor, took it back under the table, and ate it.

there is a god

just a nudge

I'm having a week that is so filled with impatience I'm not quite sure how to, ironically, mend it quickly enough to actually get a good full breath in. Nin is leaving for Iowa soon. This morning I went into the bedroom where Winston was sleeping (he doesn't sleep on the floor anymore, too barbaric to lay where there isn't adequate cushioning for his head I guess). After he pained himself to roll over and look at me I told him that I would be solely responsible for his well being for over a week and he gave me a look like: You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. He blinked a few times, let out a dramatic squealing sigh, and then rolled back to his late morning nap.

Earlier this morning I drove into Kent to workout. Traffic was moving so slowly and then I got to the crosswalk of W. Main and Lincoln, the light turned green, and then there were four middle school aged girls that were walking so slowly that I ended up missing the green light completely. I think, perhaps, God was punishing me because I honestly had one of those vivid thoughts of pressing on the gas. It wasn't like a run-them-over fantasy or anything like that, I just wanted to give them a little nudge with my bumper, hurry them along. To make matters worse, a few minutes ago I decided to finally eat something and am sure, beyond doubt, that I sprained my right hand trying to open the Spanish olives. But this is what happens when Nin leaves for work trips. All of the hinges shake themselves loose until I can't stop wobbling. I'm not sure how things will go, actually. I won't try to make any predictions. Voltaire wrote: Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd.

mr. bones meditates

  

It's another lovely late morning Friday here in Ohio. Last Summer was so agitating, all of the many storms that came one after another. Today, though, it seems like Summer has been lingering all year and has no desire to leave. It's a funny feeling, actually, because usually this is my least favorite season. But maybe it just seems slower, and that's a good thing lately.

tuesday and punctual as a star

Today I came home late from running, having got a later start than usual. It was a really awful run actually, no breeze, the air heavy as sand on my skin. I came inside and sat to record my mileage from last week and start this week with a reminder to myself to never start after 6:30. In my runners journal, at the bottom of the page, there is a warning: �Beware: a run in hot weather can raise your body temperature almost two degrees every five minutes.� Is this really possible? I ran for 45 minutes and let�s just assume my normal body temperature is 99 degrees. That would mean that at the end of my run, my temperature would be 115 degrees. While it�s true I did see a few white stars in my sight line toward the end of my run, I don�t think I was quite peaking at 115 degrees. But I could be wrong.

Saturday Nin and I went to my parent�s house for a little cookout. We had a really fun time. The highlight? My mom bought Winston and Coco matching flag bandanas - appropriate since they are both red state dogs.