The offspring staggered home last night, collapsed into bed, and slept the sleep of the righteous until almost 7:30 this morning, at which point she popped up and went downstairs. From what my wife says, she asked once if the ribbon had been located, then dropped the subject. The performance was, apparently, without incident. The football team wasn't so fortunate, losing catastrophically. From what I gather, they won the first two games of the season, and have lost every one since. I feel a little sorry for them, but not a lot, as I'm not a big proponent of team sports where the community is supposed to all get together in support of them. The day that I see equal support for, say, the chess club, I'll rethink that.
I was a little grumpy this morning -- last night, I had reglued the end piece on that wonderful bread board that my wife has, but this morning I found that it had shifted about a quarter inch, likely when I was putting it down to dry. I am not a perfectionist, but I like when things go as they should, and I guess I see a reflection of myself when they do not. (When they do, I usually think that its just luck.) I think thats a lot of why I like to bake (or try to bake). When it goes well, I can usually convince myself that there was a certain amount of skill involved. Not a lot, but some. I'm always amazed by people who spend great amounts of time and effort to get a recipe right. I'm usually just glad to have it be edible.
I'm working my way through Eternity Road. I'm not as captivated as I was by his other book, but its good entertainment. I might give up on Agony and the Ecstasy, or perhaps just get a different copy -- the print on this one is small, and its a little tiring for me to read. My wife, for the longest time, had a program of reading one Great Book a year (or every couple of years). I suppose this is my nod to that. I'd like to read more, but it seems that there isn't that much written that captivates me. Its either mindless or way too long. Yeah, I know, there's tons of decent books out there. I believe that. I just can't find them. For yoks, I occasionally look at the books recommended by book critics. Almost always, they are full of angst, sorrow, betrayal, the worthlessness of life. Great fun.
Its a fall morning out there. I can feel the electric baseboard heat come on in various rooms. I like that.
I was a little grumpy this morning -- last night, I had reglued the end piece on that wonderful bread board that my wife has, but this morning I found that it had shifted about a quarter inch, likely when I was putting it down to dry. I am not a perfectionist, but I like when things go as they should, and I guess I see a reflection of myself when they do not. (When they do, I usually think that its just luck.) I think thats a lot of why I like to bake (or try to bake). When it goes well, I can usually convince myself that there was a certain amount of skill involved. Not a lot, but some. I'm always amazed by people who spend great amounts of time and effort to get a recipe right. I'm usually just glad to have it be edible.
I'm working my way through Eternity Road. I'm not as captivated as I was by his other book, but its good entertainment. I might give up on Agony and the Ecstasy, or perhaps just get a different copy -- the print on this one is small, and its a little tiring for me to read. My wife, for the longest time, had a program of reading one Great Book a year (or every couple of years). I suppose this is my nod to that. I'd like to read more, but it seems that there isn't that much written that captivates me. Its either mindless or way too long. Yeah, I know, there's tons of decent books out there. I believe that. I just can't find them. For yoks, I occasionally look at the books recommended by book critics. Almost always, they are full of angst, sorrow, betrayal, the worthlessness of life. Great fun.
Its a fall morning out there. I can feel the electric baseboard heat come on in various rooms. I like that.
