Nothing like a move to uncover a piece of the past. Judy when we were dating.
Halloween
Fall at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
(Even sea monsters need kisses too.)
(Even sea monsters need kisses too.)
Rball
Racquetball update.
I’m involved in a league with mostly A and Open players. I’m set up to get my ass kicked every week for about twelve weeks.
I played a guy today I’ve never beaten. I played smart. I played patient. He’s a counter puncher. That’s what he’s comfortable doing, so I kept forcing him to the back of the court with soft shots, making him take the first offensive shot from back there. It worked. For him. He kicked my ass.
There was a victory though. We still had a little time left after the three league games, so we played one more. I’d had enough of playing smart, and playing his soft game. He is better at that game than I am, so I just let it all out and played my game. Straight power. No mercy. And it worked. His “touch” game unraveled. It was never close. I beat him at seven.
That last game doesn’t go in the books, but we’ll both remember it.
I’m involved in a league with mostly A and Open players. I’m set up to get my ass kicked every week for about twelve weeks.
I played a guy today I’ve never beaten. I played smart. I played patient. He’s a counter puncher. That’s what he’s comfortable doing, so I kept forcing him to the back of the court with soft shots, making him take the first offensive shot from back there. It worked. For him. He kicked my ass.
There was a victory though. We still had a little time left after the three league games, so we played one more. I’d had enough of playing smart, and playing his soft game. He is better at that game than I am, so I just let it all out and played my game. Straight power. No mercy. And it worked. His “touch” game unraveled. It was never close. I beat him at seven.
That last game doesn’t go in the books, but we’ll both remember it.
Magic moments
Magic moments. Wild things.
An earlier day, I was diverted from my late-night run by the call of the coyote. The coyote’s song pulled me from my usual route into the open field. By the light of the moon, I ran the worn dirt paths into the wild. I was alone, running with the creatures of the night. I couldn’t get right in the middle of them, but I could run through the dark in their direction, hearing how close I was getting.
Magic moments. Wild things.
Running, this afternoon, I crossed paths with an old guy. An old guy even older than me. He was shirtless also. I was coming back the bicycle path next to the stream. He had just come down the hill from the south, looking a little tired. We exchanged that glance of recognition. He pointed toward the east and asked: Highway 42? I answered yes. He was off on his adventure. He wasn’t even sure where he was. He had a long way still to go.
It’s all good.
An earlier day, I was diverted from my late-night run by the call of the coyote. The coyote’s song pulled me from my usual route into the open field. By the light of the moon, I ran the worn dirt paths into the wild. I was alone, running with the creatures of the night. I couldn’t get right in the middle of them, but I could run through the dark in their direction, hearing how close I was getting.
Magic moments. Wild things.
Running, this afternoon, I crossed paths with an old guy. An old guy even older than me. He was shirtless also. I was coming back the bicycle path next to the stream. He had just come down the hill from the south, looking a little tired. We exchanged that glance of recognition. He pointed toward the east and asked: Highway 42? I answered yes. He was off on his adventure. He wasn’t even sure where he was. He had a long way still to go.
It’s all good.
Sports
The good news? Judy is not a basketball fan.
The bad news? Grown men with giant wads are still drooling and spitting their way through the playoffs. I admire the athleticism and the strategy. I just can’t stomach watching the players turn their own dugout and the field they play on into a quagmire with their own bodily fluids. Guess I’m a radio baseball fan.
And the first hockey game is televised tonight.
When will I regain control of the clicker so I can watch something worthwhile: that being those stupid cable B movies I love so much?
The bad news? Grown men with giant wads are still drooling and spitting their way through the playoffs. I admire the athleticism and the strategy. I just can’t stomach watching the players turn their own dugout and the field they play on into a quagmire with their own bodily fluids. Guess I’m a radio baseball fan.
And the first hockey game is televised tonight.
When will I regain control of the clicker so I can watch something worthwhile: that being those stupid cable B movies I love so much?