Sunny and cool this morning, which meant that the cool didn't last long on our walk. It was nice in the shade, but otherwise we roasted. Met no one.

Grandma and Jinn left for bridge shortly after we got back from the walk. Got some laundry done, did some computing, had lunch. Then called Syd to ask if she wanted to go to the library. She did! Yay! So we went to the library, and for once I had more unread checkouts than rereads. Wow. Found a Caroline Stevermer (necessitating an expedition into the teen section, which was crowded--a little easier that way) and a Peter Dickinson mystery. I had to restrain myself from checking out the Stevermers that I have waiting for me, in omnibus form, at home, but in the end restraint triumphed. Besides, I got plenty else--although not the Bujold I've been trying to get five weeks running. Sigh. I should have taken Syd up on the offer to go to Penrose....oh well. I got plenty, anyway. More or less spent the rest of the afternoon reading.

Dinner was late, and our walk short. It was almost dark, but I could see three boys sitting in the pine just before the Heller gate. Lark wanted to ask them what they were doing, but I talked her out of it. Otherwise there was no one out. We didn't go the full way, only a little along the road, and then I decided to go some distance down the road to Nevada. I've tried this before, only Lark stopped and wouldn't go any further, while looking at me as though I were crazy. Well, we got a little farther this time. Then she stopped. Sigh. So I came back, and we went home. And I have a headache.

Slept in--not sure why, but I don't think Grandma called me. That or I just don't remember. Total menace of a reprobate canine in my dream, though, and then the insane family that produced him--in training if not genetics. Seemed like they were at B's--dunno. Crazy horse, too, but that was all right. Oh well. It wasn't much of a loss--it's cold and wet outside, to the extent of wearing a jacket on our walk. Met a doe--I think she was the ill one from a few days ago, but in substantially better shape, to the extent of being able to leap the fence when Lark took after her. It began to sprinkle as we got home, and was raining seriously by noon. Carole and Grandma went to run errands, and I have laundry to do--Grandma wants me to wash it ahead of time, before packing. I feel like I'm packing a week early--not the intention, but probably how it'll end up if I don't watch myself.

Got some laundry done. Read Faust, began the Divine Comedy. 

Had dinner at lunchtime, rather late, and dinner even later--Grandma wasn't hungry, having snacked earlier, so I just warmed up some of last night's pasta. Then we larked. It was a bit cool, not that the jacket stayed on long, but we only met one person. Everywhere were signs of water, from today's downpour. The level of sand in the creek bottom was down by a couple of inches, and what remained was packed hard.

Bloodhound puppy, golden, Boston bull terrier

Dreamed Lark successfully put up the ewe lambs and two unfamiliar goats. Despite the animals all looking more or less right, it was a pretty unrealistic dream. Everyone went where I wanted them to. Also the ewe lambs looked about the same as when I left, which shouldn't be right.

Lee came early and took Grandma outside, which is becoming the norm. I don't think Philip got up until she left, and I know he never ate breakfast. Lunatic.

Lark did not get a walk this morning. At least, not a normal walk. First she had a ride in the car, where, despite the availability of food all morning, she did not get sick. At all. Then she had a walk--a long one, up a hill along the road from where we parked. Then we had to climb the horribly steep trail up to the stairs. At that point, I sat down--Philip had pretty much left us behind on the trail, and waited for us at the steps. There were, again, a lot of people climbing, although it was rather hotter than Saturday at first, with the sun coming and going. I think we were past the false summit before it began to rain. There was a guy climbing with a couple of kids--Oliver, a dog-lover with lots of energy, and Grace, with less attention to spare as she worked her way up. She really did well, considering how overweight she is--I'd say there's hope for her yet. Quite a lot, really, if she can finish the Incline on her first try. The young woman with the bloodhound puppy was doing it again--what with Lark, Zeus, and a young Golden, it looked rather like a puppy play date on the slope above us. Lark was having lots of fun, as I'd finally let her off the leash. I'd been wondering if Phil would approve, but when he suggested it I quit worrying about it. The view, as omitted in the last post on this subject, was great; I could even see our hill, and figure out approximately where the house was. At one point there was an enormous curtain of cloud obscuring it, though; I wonder if it corresponded with the rain at noon, which Grandma told us about. By the time we made the false summit Phil was pushing me pretty persistently, and then he came up with a system: go thirty steps, rest ten seconds. Okay. We'd done maybe half a dozen of these when there were about four more steps, at which point we dropped the system. There's a lovely flat space with lots of rocks and things to sit on at the top; we sat for awhile, admiring the view, having a drink (Philip had refused all water until the top), giving the dog a drink, and cheering Grace on. Oliver did twenty pushups, but they weren't very deep. It made me think of Grandma's story of taking Doug on the Cog Railway: once at the top, she warned him of altitude sickness, and he promptly went to the edge of the pavement and started doing pushups. Gah. We all took the trail down, in installments as one group or another left separately, and it was quite a while down the trail before my legs were anywhere near as tired as the first time. My left, while sore, was never rubbery--a relief. It began to rain more heavily on the trail, and after a bit of that Lark started giving me pathetic looks--"I don't like this, make it stop, c'mon Mom, there's stuff hitting my head!" She was alright otherwise, but we were both pretty wet by the time (after an interminable trek past various now-empty parking) we made it to the car. I toweled her off a bit with the sweater Grandma had suggested I bring, and which had hitherto served no useful purpose. But Lark lay down on it, and tried to go to sleep. (Unsuccessfully, as she slid about on the vinyl seat, but the effort was there and I appreciated it.) She came wide awake as we got to Boonzaijer's, though, and it dawned on her that Philip and I were getting out of the car and--worse--she wasn't. We went in and got fruit tarts, which are delicious confections of cream in a pastry shell with strawberry, kiwi, orange, and grape slices on top. I looked out at the parking lot as we ate, and there was that little pointed face at the window, waiting for us to come back. We did so shortly, with a slice of Belgian double chocolate mousse cake for Grandma; Lark was delighted to see me. She calmed down before we got home, though. The light was red for our turn onto Nevada, and as we sat there, watching the arrow, hail began to ping onto the windshield, closely followed by huge drops of rain. We--eventually--pulled into the driveway in a downpour. Philip ducked out of the car and dashed for the door. I tried to open my door so Lark could follow while I collected my stuff. It wouldn't open--the rear passenger doors on the Vic open only from the outside. Philip came dashing back to open it, and I let Lark out to follow him, then reached for my hat and backpack. When I got out of the car, Lark was waiting, in the pouring rain (which she detests), for me to come too. I was touched.

Followed lunch, dry clothes, and conversations. My muscles, while a bit tired, are not yet seriously complaining. 

Nap......

Philip went back to Golden after dinner--something to do with work. 

Started Wuthering Heights after the comp shut down. Got two chapters in and switched to Moliere. Grandma has a Heritage volume with Tartuffe and The Would-be Gentleman--much more fun than Bronte, and with great illustrations. And I am glad to say I can now disagree with Napoleon's summary of Tartuffe--"A third-rate comedy"--with a more informed opinion.

15 pushups, 20 situps, 5 elbow-to-knees (Lark always gets worried at this point), and three arabesque stretches.

Golden Retriever, pughuahua?

Finished Three Came Home last night. Oops. Hadn't meant to do that. Oh well.....

Spent some time petting the cat, whose people should be returning today. Maybe I should call Brook and ask when.... 

Larked in good time, with the air still nice and cool. Met an elderly lady and her elderly Golden at the gate--Lark growled at him for coming too close to me.....this really is not good. Oh, and we saw a weasel; which is to say, Lark saw it and jumped, and then a couple seconds later I saw it about fifteen feet up a tree. Heh. It was a sort of reddish brown, with a pale grey underside. Yay new wildlife! Anyway, he looked pretty much like the top picture on this page. Although I have to say I don't think I've ever heard that version of "Pop! goes the weasel" before.....

Ah, and there was some sort of big truck, of the utilities variety, at the Heller Center. We were almost to the trail when he drove out, and I grabbed Lark's collar and got us there while the driver waited. Mm. Met another older lady out on the trail, then didn't see anyone until we got home. And we keep coming home when it's (objectively) still cool out, so no swamp cooler....

Quiet afternoon. Found an Ogden Nash collection and Kate Greenaway's Language of Flowers, printed in 1879 but all the young ladies in the illustrations are wearing Regency styles. Also it vindicates my side of the argument about flower languages: Mom says authors just make it all up as they go, with which I disagree. And here's this. Muahaha.

Philip got in as I was getting the mail while hoping the rice would dry out a bit. Last night's was some of the worst fried rice I have ever produced. Sigh. We ate it, though. With watermelon afterwards. I was about to take Lark out afterwards when Syd got home and came over, with a couple of granddaughters in tow--I assume they'd come with their mother to get Syd and Ralph from the airport. Lark, who was already excited about going for a walk, absolutely exploded. It was like when you blow up a balloon and then let it loose to zip around. Lol. Oh, and I got paid.....too much, but I'm not going to complain.

After that we larked. Philip had a movie scheduled close to eight, but we had plenty of time--I think it was about seven when we got home. In the meantime, it began to rain lightly shortly after we got out. We met a couple people--more than on a hot day--a woman with a dog, which looked very much like a cross between a pug and a chihuahua. Lark was a bit aggressive--he yelped, I grabbed her, they departed, I gave her a talking-to. For all the difference it's likely to make. Geh. Later there was a young guy out jogging, too--pretty cute, in a bland kind of way. It rained the entire time we were out.

We got home and Philip told me I ad to be ready to go in fifteen minutes. We were going to see Moon, which was only showing downtown and therefore required time to get there. Philip, please note, got into the shower only after I got home, and could reasonably be expected to use the bathroom. I ended up getting dressed in the studio, as soon as he was firmly in the shower.

Moon is suspense and sci-fi, with some mystery and a bit of psychological, I guess. Not my thing on so many levels, but I suppose it was a good movie. Pretty open-ended, but at the same time it doesn't feel like the answers to those questions would really fit. He goes back to Earth, and that's it? Well, no, but that's a story for another day--maybe. For our imaginations, maybe.

We got home about ten, and Philip promptly hooked the laptop up to the TV for another episode of Castle. I think the plot was a bit better in this one; in the last one, with our mystery writer tagging along with the cop the entire point of the plot was that it be something a mystery writer could predict, and therefore, it follows, a reader too. At least if you've read as many of the greats as I have, the writers who created these plots and cliches. Anyway, episode 2 was a bit less predictable, and our novelist shines slightly less in the revelation of plot points; this one took him by surprise, too. We are, however, discovering more about our lovely cop, although I object rather to having it laid out clearly for more obtuse viewers on Castle's laptop, as it is likewise revealed about the character in his new series, the ostensible reason for his tagging along behind Beckett on her cases. Besides the Mayor's being a fan, anyway--the man has fans everywhere, and uses them to a disgusting but expediting degree.

Incline tomorrow--so not prepared in any way, shape, or form.....

Big brown mix with black shading again

Up a bit late. The cat was glad to see me. Had to spray some ants--Syd left the can out, with the request to use it if necessary. There were more this afternoon, this time focussing on the food dish rather than the counter. Sprayed those too. Syd's coming home tomorrow--and everything's still alive....(To "everything's" Spellcheck says: "Are you sure about that?" Yes, thank you.)

An uneventful morning walk. It was sunny out, although not, technically, hot, and nobody else was out. Phooey. I'd been hoping for the lady and the Golden, at least. I like 'em. Lark disapproves of Jackson, though. "Get away from her!" she says when I pet him. Sigh. I'm not sure whether to call this an advance in our relationship or not, but either way I disapprove. Gonna have to figure out what to do about it--she can't just tell me not to pet other dogs; I mean, she talks to other people.....I'm sorry, dear, petting is not an exclusive part of a relationship any more than conversation. Live with it.

Ended up not getting on the comp 'til after three, with one thing and another. I regretted the delay once I got on--Doug had been on all morning, talking into thin air. Oops. He seems to be into Russian Novelists at the moment: having cut a swathe through Solzhenitsyn, he's now reading Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky. None of these names are acknowledged as legit by Spellcheck--so helpful....

Clouded up by dinnertime, with rain threatening by the time we larked. We met the iPod-bearing jogger with the big brown mix again; he doesn't leash his dog, but always reaches for his collar when he sees us. Last time we ran into him, we were in his blind spot, coming down the creek bed as he came down the main path; he stopped and grabbed for his (obediently heeling) dog as soon as he was aware. I think I disapprove of earbuds while out: there's so much else to pay attention to, and in the end it's rather a liability. Perhaps a sturdy man in good shape, accompanied by a large dog, doesn't need to be quite so alert as a woman whose dog is as petite as she is, but it's always good to be aware of what's going on around you. We also met the Asian/Caucasian couple, who I begin to suspect go on walks for Serious Discussions. That's what it's always sounded like as I approach, although I'm glad to say not too serious. It may just be the natural tendency of his voice to sound like he's talking about something important, though. I don't know. I have every expectation that this will remain the case, nor would I want it otherwise. One family's problems are enough.

Reading Three Came Home. I wasn't at all sure I wanted to read a prison camp book just now, but Keith has a terrific style of her own, amusing and serious in turns, and very sympathetic. I can't find Mom's other recommendation, Christ Stopped at Eboli, but I did find Wuthering Heights. It's on the table for consideration, while I read Three Came Home. I am not at all sure I want to start reading the darker/crazier English classics--Grandma and I were talking about Thomas Hardy at dinner--but I've been thinking about it, and will no doubt continue to do so. A book about three men making sheep's eyes at an ice queen fails to attract me, large supporting cast of actual sheep notwithstanding.

15 pushups, form improving; 16 situps, having realized how pointless it is to continue after my abs have quit and left all the work to back and (somehow) shoulders; 5 standing elbow-to-knees; 3......a bit like an arabesque but I'm holding the outstretched leg at the ankle. All of which are no doubt very good for me, but they don't seem to do much for the Incline-afflicted muscles. Hm.

Well, I wasn't as sore this morning as I had expected. I did not, for one thing, want to scream until I actually stood up. And it was only really bad when I took stairs. Yeowch. Nonetheless, I bestirred myself, since Philip gave me fifteen minutes (from the middle of breakfast) to use the bathroom before he needed it. I was finished in plenty of time and heading over to the Seamans' before he was out of bed. Maddie was extremely glad to see me, the door to the master bedroom having blown shut again, this time with her outside. Her food, water, and litterbox are all in the master bathroom. You see the problem. She wolfed her gooshyfood, then galloped 'round to check if I'd opened the door yet. I had, and she ran for the litterbox.

That taken care of, I came home to find Philip getting into the shower. We got out the door at nine-thirty precisely, and made it to church with a couple of minutes to spare. The preacher was a guest, an enthusiastic man with a neat white beard, with "Christ is the King" as his topic. The text was from I Corinthians, with points from throughout the Scriptures. The sermon didn't really have much in the way of a planned outline that I could hear, and there certainly wasn't one on the back of the bulletin, but it wasn't a bad sermon. And one of the psalms was to a tune I knew, which happens about once every two weeks if I'm very lucky.

Afterwards Mrs. Kleinbeart had some questions about homeschooling, having done some with her children, and then I went and talked to Jenna while Philip chatted with a girl I don't know. They were plotting a fourteener once I leave. Sigh. Oh, and the camping trip is cancelled. Logistical difficulties, apparently. And Philip is planning to take me home the first week in August. Sigh. Well, I suppose I have a lot to catch up on.....including Lark's relationship with the stock. Will her increased obedience level go straight down the tubes with the first glimpse she catches of an airbrained ewe lamb? We'll see.

I decided it was time to go for a walk around two, precisely timed for the rain to start once we were fairly out. I decided to keep going, as it wasn't very heavy; it wasn't until the rain began more heavily, and Lark began giving me looks expressive of the opinion that this was stupid, why didn't I do something about this stuff hitting her on the head, that we turned back. In good time; for the thunder became serious as we headed for home, and once there was a crack of lightning directly above me that seriously scared me. We went for home at a smart pace, with a pause at the gate as I waited for some thunder to subside before I touched the metal. I have no idea if this precaution was actually worth anything or not; I was, however, quite certain that I did not wish to touch a tall metal gate, at all. It was a compromise. We reached the house with no mishaps, at least, and Lark submitted to toweling with slightly more docility than usual, which is to say she didn't gnaw on me very much. I hung my clothes up to dry and sat down with Maurois' Disraeli. It's extremely absorbing, and leads me to wonder if any of Maurois' other biographies are available in English.

Philip left for Golden while Grandma and I were having dessert, after suggesting some rather convoluted plans for the schedule next week. I think he said something about coming down Wednesday for both mental and physical torments, namely, the Incline and some SAT math. He would then go back to Golden on Friday, coming back....I'm not sure when. Before Wednesday again, I imagine.

Finished Disraeli before bed.

15 pushups, about 16 situps. Decided there was no point continuing after my abs quit--I'm not doing this just to bust my back and (somehow) shoulders.....

Husky, bloodhound puppy

Spent some time petting Maddie this morning. I think she's getting pretty bored and lonely over there.

It was nice and cool out, with a stiff breeze and intermittent clouds over the sun when we started out on our walk. By the time we made it to the trailhead, the sun was out for good and we were too low to catch the breeze. Sob. It was pretty hot. We met an older couple with a red husky; I'm not sure, but I'd say the husky was pretty old too. It had a white face anyway, so that was no help, but its pelt seemed a bit faded, and its movements cautious. I don't know. No adventures this morning, anyway, for which I am grateful. And Philip was there when we got home.

Philip napped straight through lunch, and then I embarked on the campaign to get him off the couch and into town for groceries. I was foiled--at least in the latter aim--by a phone call from Ben, who was doing the Incline and wondered if Philip wanted to come. Philip did, and asked if I wanted to come. I supposed so if Lark could come? I was fairly sure I was going to regret it, but by the time Ben said, no, no dogs in his car, I was kinda committed, mentally. So I went. Ben was driving, and besides Phil and me in the backseat there was Tom, his roommate, who wasn't going on the Incline but wanted to do some running on the trail. So off we went. The main point of the drive there, as far as I'm concerned, was when I spotted three bighorn sheep in a meadow at Glen Eyrie. We went by too fast for me to get an alert out, and I was still uncertain that they were indeed bighorns by the time we were past. So we went through Manitou, and eventually found Parking, and spent a minute or two wondering whether or not to wait for the impending storm to blow over or just go up. The ayes had it for "just go up." So we did. I was already having trouble long before we made it to the steps. Philip made me keep going. They decided I'd better set the pace, which meant, among other things, that we stopped pretty much whenever I decided to. This was nice. Anyway, Philip pushed me on, with Ben providing the voice of experience, and we climbed. And climbed. And climbed. Climbed quite a lot, really. Met some interesting people. We leapfrogged most of the way with a man in a red shirt who was trying for the second time that day. A woman with a beautiful bloodhound puppy running extremely elongated ovals around her passed us both coming and going. A girl--younger than me--with her dad were trying it for I think the fifth time, having made it so far only two-thirds of the way, a record they surpassed today. And there were some young men heading down at speed. Not very high speed, and sideways, but I was pretty irritated until the first one slipped. He didn't fall, but I felt a little better. Philip and I turned to head down when we were three-quarters of the way, leaving Ben to go the rest of the way and catch up to us later. Feh. We turned onto the trail, which connects with the stairs at about the two-thirds point, and took it down. Tom overtook us shortly, and Ben caught us with a good way left to go. My legs were pretty tired by then, with the left calf threatening to give way. I hoped I wouldn't need it for anything particularly serious, because if I needed to, for instance, break a fall, I was in trouble. Fortunately there were no crises for it to betray me in, and by the time we reached the bottom, it had more or less steadied. My feet were beginning to complain a bit, though. A light rain began up on the trail, and it was beginning to get serious when we made it to the car. The culverts were full by the time we got to Boonzaijer's for the Traditional Ben & Tom Post-Incline Dessert, a tradition Philip and I were happy to support. Having left home about noon, it was a bit after five when we got home. I was ready for a nap, but we still had the shopping to do. This was successfully navigated, as was the preparation of dinner. It remains to be seen if I can survive both the after-dinner movie and getting to bed; walking Lark is out of the question. I did manage to get over to feed the cat, though, and got the mail. Aren't you impressed?

Golden Retriever

Got out for the walk about nine-thirty, after spending some time with Maddie. Carole was here when I left--she and Grandma were headed for the doctor's office for another INR. It was pretty hot out, but there were some people out--ran into an older woman who walks alone about at the creek crossing. I stopped in front of the stand of scrub there to look back for Lark, who was just then coming past the woman, with a polite greeting in her walk. Then I heard a buzz behind me. I whirled so fast, I don't even remember doing it and was standing on the far side of the trail staring at the rattlesnake that had been curled in the shade behind me. Yikes! This time I remembered the "run and hope Lark follows" plan. It didn't work. I looked back to check and the dog was just sticking her nose into the brush where I'd been standing. "Lark!!" That worked. She came. Tell me that's not the exact reverse of what we thought would work--I came up with running because I was sure calling her would be useless. Guess not..... We ran into Jackson the Golden and his lady up in the trees, and since she was headed the way we'd been I warned her about the snake. She was shocked--she'd been going back and forth along the shady trail, and on her last pass Jackson has been sniffing around about where we'd found the snake. She'd thought he'd found a dead animal or something, and had called him away. Meep. Yay obedient dogs. Lark is still warning Jackson away from me, though.....ahem. I was talking to her when the lady from earlier caught up with us. She heard us say "snake", and stopped to ask about it. She'd heard me call Lark when she'd found the snake, and was a bit shaken to hear how close she'd been herself. Yeah. I did the rest of that hike on adrenaline, afraid to stop once we were on the winding, rocky half lest I learn more about the area I was in--such as what else was there. It's great terrain for snakes, you see. I felt better once we were back on the road, but Lark was beginning to drag pretty badly. I was still able to move briskly. Have I mentioned I'm doing a study on long pants when it's hot? Apparently they help. I have no idea why, but I have more energy left when wearing long pants than in shorts. Also I'm less certain that a snake would be able to inject me.....ahem. Long pants + summer = comfort. Somehow.

With any luck, she'll learn which animals to stay away from based on which ones I shriek at her for talking to......so far we have rattlesnakes and coyotes. It would probably cloud the issue a bit if she ever met the huge garter snake that lives in the rocks over the culvert, but I don't believe she's encountered him yet. It's a very retiring creature.

Spent the afternoon reading Three Men In a Boat, not yet feeling up to choosing something else off Grandma's shelf without a prior recommendation. Besides that, it's a lot of effort for a book one isn't sure one wants to read. Three Men In a Boat, however, is most definitely a book one wants to read. Humor takes its turn with Victorianly poetic descriptions of scenery and imaginative descriptions of local history--one of my (several) favorite parts is Jerome's plaint on the subject of living with lovers, segueing smoothly, if bitterly, into a contemplation of how it must have been for the people who had to live with Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn during their necking period, and how difficult is must have been to avoid them.  In general, it's rather difficult to remember that this is written in the nineteenth century, as to my ear it has a great deal in common with most of the really good English writing I've been exposed to. Now and then it rather smacks one, however, as when Jerome is wondering flippantly whether, in the year 2000, the willow china of the day will be set on the mantel as ornament. Well, as a matter of fact, I'm very much afraid so. I don't know about the Ramsgate souvenirs, though.

Messaged Mom for new reading material, then found a book on the shelf: The Literary Courtship, by Anna Fuller. How could I resist? It turned out to be a romance, written and set in the early 1900's, and taking place largely in Colorado Springs, complete with photographs. One, of Nevada Avenue, surprised me with its familiarity: the street is paved now, but Philip and I take it on the way home from church every Sunday. The story itself was sweet, simple, and pretty predictable, at least to the veteran of such novels. All in all, there were no surprises, but the writing was enjoyable and the narrating character sympathetic.

Fed the cat and watered the plants after dinner, then took Lark on her run. There appeared to be a gathering of the picnic or barbecue variety at the green house; what was less explicable was the man sitting in the car parked along the road. Nor was he explained; but he did warn me about continuing, saying I was likely to run into a bunch of boys playing Airsoft war out back, and that they might mistake me for one of them. I thanked him for the warning and acknowledged this possibility. I was wearing a white t-shirt, which was helpful, but I made sure to take off my hat. In the end I doubt they noticed me, being occupied in camping behind their cover and carrying on urgent discussions through their walkie-talkies. Spoiled kids.....We did meet, some way into the trail, a middle-aged couple. The woman paused to ask about Lark, and to tell me they'd run into a similar dog earlier. To my regret, we saw no sign of any other dogs, nor met anyone else.

Golden retriever, poodle mix

Maddie was glad to see me this morning. I spent some time playing with her after checking all the plants, but had to quit when the claws came out. We larked as soon as I got home, which was pretty late. It was hot out. We met a couple of people on the Heller road--a man jogging, and the woman with her Golden who warned us about the rattler last time. She didn't recognize me until she was right close and I was talking to her dog, though. Maybe because I was wearing different camos and a nonmilitary t-shirt? Hm. Anyway. Despite the heat, I managed to maintain a good brisk pace, even back up the hill on the way home, so maybe there's something to be said for long pants? Or something. I've also been thinking about borrowing Syd's bike, which she suggested before she left, but I'm still not sure I want to. I'll probably just procrastinate until I get home.

Owen, as requested, sent me some brother-pics. The one most to the point was Mom standing between Peter and Doug--and looking up at Peter. Quite a ways up, in fact. 

Urk. Maybe I should take a few weeks of Krav before I go home.

After lunch I decided to make brownies. Grandma had shown me where everything was, and I had just cracked the first egg, when the doorbell rang. Oops. It was the folks from JJ Caulking, come to inspect the situation. Jackie was along, apparently an irregular occurrence, plus her husband, Sam, and one of the boys, Clint. I use the term "boy" loosely, as he's twenty-seven. Anyway. They didn't stay very long, and then I got back to the brownies. I'd finished, and was initiating cleanup, when a deer caught my eye: there was a doe, probably once a nice bright red, standing on our side of the edge of the Seamans' driveway. Her presence, in itself, was unusual; besides it being the middle of the day and all, Grandma says the red deer rarely come up here, and it's true that she's the first I've seen beyond the Heller estate. Besides that, however, she looked awful. Her ribs were showing through her faded, patchy coat, and there were suspicious little black marks that made me think of very fat flies all up her neck and along her head. It was pretty sad. I think she was probably old; her movements were measured and slow, like Cassie's, and when Lark dashed into the greenhouse and began barking up a storm she turned her head, examined the situation, and then decided the dog was no threat. She remained wary, however, and after a minute or so she began to move slowly off.

The brownies came out very well. :) Now I'm wondering if I should take Sam up on his teasing and really make brownies for the painters when they come. If I don't I know he'll tease me, and I'd love to see his reaction if he thinks I took him seriously......mweheh.

Larked after dinner. We met only one person, a familiar jogger with his little poodle. No deer. It was fairly nice out, there having been a downpour during dinner, but there didn't seem to be anyone taking advantage of it. There was a police helicopter, though, flying back toward the far end of the little Heller valley.

15 pushups, form improving; 20 situps--note: don't count in English.

Finished Mistress of an Age, reading for three hours straight.....

It was pretty cool this morning, up until the sun came out--just before we larked. Oh, well. It remained very cool in the shade, with intermittent breezes elsewhere. We survived. There was a doe watching us from across the creek, once; she had a lovely cool nest in the tall grass under a tree, and looked very comfortable. Perhaps there was a fawn nearby. A bit later we met a girl out jogging. She was blonde, and my age or a little older.

New info and plan on the camping. Apparently it runs from the 31st through the 5th; Philip, for various reasons, can't go, but he does think I could go by myself, if he can find someone at church to give me a ride. This suggestion is making me, very quietly, freak out, but I'd like to try all the same, I think. I need a lot more info, though....

Finished the chapter on Germaine's ideology, started the one on her relationship with Napoleon, which tries--and is, so far, doing a pretty good job--to explain why she and the little Corsican did not get along. Oh, and I finished the verbal sections of the SAT, in some cases with half the time to spare. There were several questions, however, that I could not answer to my own satisfaction. Whether they will be to the test's satisfaction I do not know.

Ran over to Syd's after dinner. Maddy followed me through the house as I performed a perimeter check and cleared the area, and demonstrated a much better appetite for her gooshyfood than last time. Otherwise nothing of note. Well, the rain. It was sopping outside. It was down to sprinkling when we got out on our walk, and cleared up shortly after. Speaking of the walk, the most interesting occurrence was meeting a family at the bend in the trail near the head of the creek. The boy--early teens?--was holding a GPS device, and everyone was following. As I approached they were going off the trail, then rerouted onto is as the oracle told them they were getting cold. "Playing GPS?" I asked, after they'd noticed out presence--Lark first, as she wriggled up. She tends to be wrigglier with men than women, but here she had both--besides the mom, there was a girl somewhere around my age. Dad began explaining to me the game they were playing--GeoCache, by which you find various caches with your GPS, leave your name, and go on to the next. Exciting outdoor family activity. Sounds good. They certainly enjoyed it. Well, the guys did--mom and daughter weren't so vocal......although possibly they were merely eyeing me with suspicion as I peered at screens and things. I don't know. It was a good walk, anyway.

Four coyotes

Nice and cool and wet this morning. It actually stayed that way all through the walk, too, although the sun came and went. We didn't meet anyone, but I did learn something. Crows really croak. Like frogs. Bullfrogs. Grrroak. I never knew. I would not, however, have minded in the least if the crow, after educating me thus, had either gone somewhere else or shut up. He kept flying, back and forth, overhead until we got out onto the road. Sheesh. He must've thought I really needed the lesson drilled into my head.

Quiet day, really. Reading The Forever King, somebody's sequel to their slightly modified--majorly modified--version of The Once and Future King. Several characters, including Arthur, have reincarnated, and a couple never died. It's not bad, I suppose.

Went over to Syd's to be briefed on the house-sitting. Since it seems the camping trip is a week later than thought, she doesn't need to arrange anything separate for the weekend. Also Phil told her there will be no camping trip, because of Austin's wedding, but I'm still not sure whether he was clear on the actual date at this point. Hope lives eternal....

Larked about seven-thirty. It was really nice out: cool, cloudy, no visible sun. Lots of bugs, though. We were more than halfway along the narrow, twisty second leg of trail when I saw four coyotes: parent leading two pups, with the other parent bringing up the rear. Lark, fortunately, never saw them, but we came under some rather suspicious scrutiny. The adults seemed to feel were best left alone, I'm glad to say. Later on, as we came up the road, a doe bounded across; I'm still not sure if Lark found her or not, because she went off-trail for awhile when we came up to the point she crossed.

15 pushups 20 situps

Some sort of big mix

Got up more promptly than otherwise, but lost any time gained thus by following the dog over to Sid's and falling into conversation with her. She says we should be able to figure something out for this weekend, which is when I'm supposed to be house-sitting, and also when the church camping trip is. Actually I'm house-sitting Wednesday through Tuesday, but I'm asking for Saturday and Sunday off. Which, Sid says, can be arranged. Probably.

FOUR HOURS A DAY?!?! LIUGF;OIHDG[ODIFS VKJNS'E! 

Kill.

Went to the doctor's office with Grandma and Syd for Grandma's INR test. Six milligrams, come back Friday. Stopped at King Soopers; Lark was low on dog food.

Had a nice long talk on the phone with home after dinner. Lots of stock news, heard everyone's voices. Doug cracked up completely at Syd's remark about reincarnating as my dog. Had to lark as soon as I got off the phone, though; it was nice and cool after the evening's rain, but there were a lots of bugs chewing on me. There was a magnificent red buck watching us from the other side of the valley, once. We only met one person, and jogger and his dog. He grabbed the dog immediately he saw us, and held his collar until he figured he was out of range. I had to leash Lark, though, or his calculation would've been way off.

Started reading Legacy about as soon as I learned my comp time was limited. Grrrrr.

The Magicians and Mrs. Quent (massive spoilers)

Galen Beckett's The Magicians and Mrs. Quent, while a creditable attempt at transplanting the Regency, has failed to capture the style of the period. His dialogue, attempting to echo Austen, sounds merely like a barely tolerable imitation. Had I been his editor, I would have assigned him some reading and revision: more Austen, Georgette Heyer, perhaps Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and then go through the entire book and see how it sounds to you, Mr. Beckett. 

As the book progresses, and the characters spend less time in the high society that Beckett had trouble portraying, the style becomes a bit less irritating. After awhile I started paying more attention to characters and their lines than the style, which is more fun. It began with thinking that Mrs. Lockwell sounded exactly like Mrs. Bennet, if slightly less obnoxious--Mr. Lockwell did love her, and still does, even through the madness. Then Mr. Wyble, the cousin, appeared, and the resemblance to Mr. Collins is impossible to miss. There was a moment when I was afraid Mr. Rafferdy was going to pull a Darcy, but he laughed instead and the moment passed. Indeed, he was all condescension--not. He's really nice. It took much longer for me to identify Charles Bingley and Lady Catherine, and I've only just realized who Georgiana is, and several characters never appear. I am glad to say that none of Ivy's sisters ever made the acquaintance of Wickham: he was solely Charles Bingley's problem. Well, and Ivy's for a little while, but at the end of their acquaintance his discomfiture was not difficult to accomplish.

Mind you, Part One, Invarel, has more characters in common than plot. While Ivy does have a convalescent stay in Lady Marsdel's house, rather more agreeable than a prolonged stay at Rosings would have been (I think Galen is a Lady Catherine sympathizer, or at least doesn't hate her--I was going to check the DWG, but I haven't gotten to the fanfic yet, only Novel Idea), Charles Bingley is pulled into bad company as he tries to support his sister (and is probably gay), and Rafferdy, on the verge of rushing out to propose to Ivy, listens to his father for once and decides to shoulder his inevitable responsibilities. Part One ends with the introduction, through a letter, of Mr. Quent, whose appearance I'd been awaiting as soon as I realized that the Mrs. Quent of the title was nowhere in sight. Important character, not been introduced yet, Ivy must marry someone named Quent. Q.E.D. Anyway, he needs a governess, he wants Ivy, their mother just died and is therefore in no position to argue, and they need the money.

Part Two, Heathcrest, made me think immediately of Jane Eyre. Well, she's going off to be a governess in a dark and scary house somewhere in the country, right? Although her poor sisters are stuck in what is now Mr. Wyble's house, since it was entailed to him. He moved right in, too, the creep. And had their father committed, although that took awhile. Anyway, Part Two is written in first person perspective, as is Jane Eyre; here, however, Ivy is writing not to a hypothetical reader, but to her father, although he will not be able to read them. I'm going off on a tangent. It does have a lot in common with Charlotte Bronte's work, anyway, although I have to say the children are rather better-developed characters than the child Miss Eyre tutored. Mr. Quent's appearances are few and, for Ivy, awkward; he doesn't spend much time at home, except when things are going wrong. This they proceed to do, and Ivy begins worrying the mystery of the Wyrdwood, seemingly connected to Mr. Quent's deceased young wife. She ends by discovering a number of disturbing things, most of them uncomfortably close to herself, and also gains a very nice husband. While not quite the obvious choice, one is certain he will make her happy. Except that he's a witch hunter. And she's a witch. And he was aware of it long before she was......

Part Three, Durrow Street, is pretty much cleaning up most of the messes discovered in Invarel and Heathcrest. Not all of them, mind you; it's very clear that this is not a standalone book. Mr. Lockwell is still insane; the rebellion is still fomenting; Eldyn--Charles Bingley--.....is actually pretty well set, but I think he still has adventures to come; we still have no idea who Ivy's real father is, although whether this will become an issue is questionable; and Rafferdy has yet to be married off to some nice debutante. I should add that if, in the third or fourth book, Mr. Quent is killed off and Ivy marries Rafferdy, I will be very upset. Possibly to the extent of discovering exactly where in Colorado Mr. Beckett resides.

I think, of all the more minor characters, Mr. Bennick is my favorite. I'm not sure why; perhaps because, when I first encountered him, it was not someone from Pride and Prejudice that I thought of, nor yet from Jane Eyre. Mr. Bennick reminded me of Aragorn. It is, perhaps, an unjust comparison, for Mr. Bennick was, at the time of his last appearance, a traitor; yet, for all the evidence against him, I think more of their shared habit of speaking out of dark corners. I may be wrong in thinking that by the end he may be an ally. I may be wrong in comparing him to Professor Snape, who seems, from what I've heard, to come out on the good side on a regular basis. I don't know. But I like him. He's a cool character.

Pit bull

Made it to church on time, but with the sort of sleep-deprived hangover that makes me lightheaded while standing and makes my blood run oddly when I sit down again. Philip was horribly helpful in keeping me awake during the sermon, which was, I think, on the gift of salvation unassisted by the recipient. I didn't have a bulletin, which made things even worse.

We didn't stay very long after the sermon, but long enough to see some people. George, a man with very black hair and a somewhat craggy face, was behind us with his wife, whose name I didn't catch. I asked Philip, and he said Mrs. Kleinbeart. So helpful. Well, at least it gives me something to call her. And while he was talking to a computers colleague, Brad (closer middle-aged, for once), I dodged over to ask Mr. Marble when Mrs. Marble is coming home. He says she and Ian (language major, I think in the Air Force now but that could be a different son) are coming back on the nineteenth, but Abby, one of the girls, is coming on the fourteenth. Unfortunately I think this is all August, i.e., after I'm gone. Sigh. Oh, and one of the ladies was celebrating her ninetieth birthday. I have yet to learn their names (hear, yes--learn, no) but I really like 'em both. The old gentleman is on oxygen, and they're both shorter than me, but I talk to him a lot, and they're both really nice. He told me his ninetieth is next year, and I asked how much of that time they'd been together. They had their sixtieth anniversary in March. Wow. That could explain why they look so.....together, I think I mean. You see one, and think of the other automatically, because the two are a unit.

A.M. Fowler was here when we got home, but she didn't stay long after. Started The Magicians and Mrs. Quent, which has a major Regency vibe and which I picked off the new-novels shelf at the library. I think Mom might like it. Pride and Prejudice meets Jane Eyre meets Lord of the Rings, or perhaps a Patricia C. Wrede Regency. I'm not at all sure how much of his plot this guy had planned in advance, though.

Quiet afternoon. Read some, napped some.

After dinner Lark finally got her walk, poor thing. It wasn't as cool out as I expected, considering it had been raining when we got home from church, but it wasn't too hot. We nearly ran into the man with the pit bull from awhile back, but I talked Lark out of running ahead and I'm not sure either of them saw us. Otherwise it was pretty uneventful. There was a nice cool breeze as soon as we got out of the park, though. ¬.¬' 

Looks like Philip messed with the time controls again. I called him, but he was driving and didn't pick up, and I haven't heard back from him. All I can say is I'd better not be locked out by eight-thirty on a regular basis.

Lab-ish, something that reminded me of the golden/gsd

I finally get enough sleep, and I still want to fall over on the walk. What is wrong with me? Wasn't a very interesting walk, though.....

Did the grocery shopping with Philip. Grandma sent us to Whole Foods this time, which was interesting. Especially the deli area--the atmosphere is.....individual. With that out of the way, he dropped me at the library, while he took the groceries home and ran a few more errands. Typically, the library had Legacy but not Beguilement, continuing the trend of reading them in reverse order. Sigh. It's Beguilement that I particularly want, too. Oh well. Read Komarr until Philip called to say he was waiting.

After lunch Phil pinned me down for some math. I did another section of a practice test, and he walked me through all the geometry problems. Remains to be seen whether I remember any of it, but I guess it was interesting, and for the most part, comprehensible. There has got to be a better way to explain functions, though. "Little box that takes things in and spits things out" is not best calculated to latch onto something else in my head and stick to it.

Immediately after math Phil took me off the the dorm parking lot for a driving lesson. We were out about forty-five minutes, and at the end of it he had me drive home. Please note that this involves navigating the curve on Stanton, which freaks me out even when I'm not driving. I got us home, though. And into the garage, although Philip hit the parking brake at the same time I hit the driving brake. Insulting. Grandma laughed when I told her about it, though. Also when I mentioned that if I ever decide to pass for college-age with the bunch at the University, I have a much bigger chance of someone catching me than before. But anyway, I never even scraped the car.

Wonders will never cease. We were on our walk after dinner, Lark and I, and saw a doe. She was a lovely red, and her expressions reminded me irresistibly of a skittish sheep, her stare and the way she moved her head back. She was above us, some way up the slope, and I had hopes that Lark wouldn't see her. In vain. She saw the doe, and started toward her, not bounding but trotting, uncertain if she could chase. I called her back, telling her no, leave it, come, and, after some indecision ("But that looks chaseable!") she came. She did. She left a deer and came to me, and sat for her leash, and eagerly accepted a treat. She did strain rather at the leash, and went off hunting as soon as I let her off, but she did not, this time, see the doe, who had followed us suspiciously over the shoulder we'd gone around. She ended up deciding on her own to get out of there, and sprang away--in a somewhat deliberate manner, like a bounding jog--without being properly spooked. Lark did not pursue.

That was the main event, as far as I was concerned, but we met a couple--I think the woman was Japanese, and her smile made me think, "Oh, so that's why they draw the eyes as lines for smiles"--it was a very nice smile--and had a distant not-quite-encounter with a woman, two or three kids, and two dogs. I was in a position to make effective evasive maneuvers, so I did. The dogs were both larger than Lark, and while she's becoming more sociable she still doesn't appreciate situations like that. We got home with three songs to go on the CD I'd put in before leaving.

Up to episode 8 in Trigun. Ehehehe.

 

B's birthday present came last night! She asked me what I wanted months ago, the last time I came over before coming out, and I told her I'd like Emmylou Harris CD's. This, of course, sent her off into a tangent about country music and singers, but she didn't forget. Last night, when I checked the mail, there was a parcel in the mailbox. She sent me the Warner|Reprise Years Anthology. I promptly sat down and wrote a thank-you note, stifling the instinct to send it to Mom first for inspection, and am now wondering if maybe she wouldn't appreciate a phone call more. Being B, she probably would. Sigh. Anyway, it was something nice to listen to as I lay awake until three a.m., trying to fall asleep. 

Larked about nine-thirty this morning, after letting Lee in. It wasn't too hot when we started, and there were a lot of people out. Actually there were only two groups and no solitaries (or dogs), but the first was some sort of tour group of at least half a dozen people. I disengaged as soon as possible. This took some jogging, since I had to get far enough that Lark wouldn't be constantly running over to visit. The second group was much smaller, and consisted of a couple and their grandsons, having a small Cheerio-based picnic in the creek bed, between the crossing of the wide trail and the tributary where the smaller trail joins it. Lark was delighted to make their acquaintance. 

About one-forty-five Jackie from JJ Caulking came. She had an appointment, to discuss painting the house with Grandma, but I think she was a little early. Anyway, she brought her granddaughter along: Patricia, very stylish in a cute kind of way, and thirteen, which I would never have guessed. She looked about my age. They were both on the short side, very dark, but Patricia was pretty quiet. We were kinda....."What do I say? What do I say?" There wasn't a whole lot of conversation on the couch. Fortunately Lark always gives me a method of ignoring awkwardness, by petting her, but......it's not ideal. It's still awkward. She just lets me pretend I don't care. Not. Ideal. Sigh.

Phil came in.....actually, I don't know when. Couple hours before dinner, I guess. Which we prepared jointly. Larked about seven; met those boys and their grandpa, with the addition of their dad, launching a raft on the pond back there.  It was a pretty good raft, actually.

Called B to thank her for the CD's. Now to get the letter mailed...

Watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a lot better than I expected, and then some. Meryl Streep was awesome. Seriously, working under her would be worth it just for the education in verbal style. The character has a fantastically devastating way with words. If the author had as much a part in creating that character as Meryl Streep did, I am reading all her books. I mean, Miranda's the female edition of Havelock Vetinari!

Twenty pushups on easy. Got up to write it down, and Lark promptly lay down in the position best calculated to block situps, which were next. Did twenty-five, after she was moved.

Golden, dachshund, goldendoodle, golden/german shepherd, short black poodly creature

Sid came over after breakfast to talk to Grandma. She's taking us to the doctor's office this afternoon--somehow I'm going, I'm not sure why. It was nine-forty when Lark and I headed out. It was pretty nice out. It was kinda funny--when I hit the dam, and went onto it to cross, there was a woman with a Golden coming on one side, and a man with a boy and a dachshund going on the other side. We met the three boys just before the big dip in the path, where water runs when there's enough. The man said "hi," the boy--about Isaac's age, I think--told me they had a dog with them too, and he was the short one, and Reggie the dachshund tried to mount Lark. She didn't disembowel him, so I guess she liked him. I said "excuse me," "I see," and "Lark!" in that order. Then we ran for a bit. The other option was to stay with them, and, while interesting, it's a bit more complicated than just leaving them behind. My body took the running rather well, I thought. Anyway, we met the woman with the Golden again in the road, and she told me she'd seen what she thought was a snake, up in the middle of the road, and so had turned back. I thanked her for the warning, and we exchanged a few remarks on snakes in general. She doesn't like 'em. So we kept going, and sure enough, up on the slope before the next patch of shade there was a sort of log shape in the middle of the road. It looked a bit like a dried stalk of mullen, and I thought, "Was that what she was talking about?" Lark promptly trotted up to sniff it, and as promptly bounced back, as the snake hissed and drew its head back. As its tail began to buzz, I called Lark, my voice, after the first shriek, only a little frantic. She looked at me, looked back at the interesting creature making such an odd sound in the middle of the road, looked back at me, and then trotted regretfully over. I leashed her, telling her what a good dog she was, and we made a careful circuit, going off the road a bit, as the dratted snake had a commanding position in the center of the road. I did not unclip the dog until we were inside the house. Lesson no. 1: I do not like poisonous snakes. Lesson no. 2: If Lark is ever bitten, it will be on the nose. Lesson no. 3: Just because you dream your dog is eaten by coyotes does not mean she will be bitten by snakes. Or at least not the very next morning. I noticed even my subconscious couldn't imagine such an eventuality, though.

Sid took Grandma to the doctor's office after lunch. I spent some time on the comp, then crashed. Grandma woke me at about four-fifteen to get ready to go to the ball game. I was ready to go, having walked the dog, eaten, and changed, by five, the estimated time of departure. Ralph came this time--he's allowed to drive, now. I hadn't known, though if I'd thought about it I suppose I would've. Anyway, it was a decent game, I guess. The Dodgers creamed us. It was the same place as last time, so there were a lot of dogs again, starting with two beagle puppies in the parking lot--terribly adorable, they were. Then there were a Goldendoodle, which I visited, and a boxer, which I did not, in the audience. Oh, and those two beautiful Danes went past again. After that was a huge brindle mastiff--it was a perfect setup for Sid's joke, actually, where you go up to the guy in the park with the dog and go "Oooh, handsome," or something like that, and when he's accepting this as a compliment of his dog, you go, "The dog's not bad either." I, of course, am not about to get up the nerve to do this in a million years (Sid says she can't remember if she did this when she was younger or not), much less to run up to a shirtless guy in the park and say it. Fun to think about, though. Hm, what else? Oh, yeah, there was a man walking a pair that may have been an Aussie and a rat terrier. Not sure, though. Aussie mix, maybe--it had a conspicuous tail, for one.....

We larked again after I got home, about eight. We met the couple with the leashed barkers almost first thing, coming up the Nevada road; they reeled their dogs in and kindly waited for us to get to our turn. I got in a breed query, and got an answer on the brown one, at least: golden/German shepherd. Wow. Never would have thought it. Right color, though, I guess. It was actually a really nice walk, after my knee stopped hurting; a certain prancing someone whanged it with a stick before we even made the gate. For symmetry, I guess. The other one's flashier, with the scabbed scrape, but it was hurting at walks for days after I knocked it going after her on a runaway night. Feh. My left stopped hurting after awhile, though, so I could enjoy the walk and wonder whether we'd make it back before full dark. We did, but the sun was no more than a pale orange glow behind the mountains, fading through pink to blue. A buck was standing at the fence between Heller land and the driveway parallel to the road; I think we'd interrupted his feeding, though when I caught his eye he was simply standing, watching us. Lark, of course, noticed nothing, though he stood there until I could no longer see him.

Fifteen pushups, twenty situps. I could probably up the number of pushups now, but I don't have the energy.

German shepherd mix?, blue tick hound

Urgh. Was reading Memory last night. Didn't finish it, for all the good that did.

It was fairly cool on our walk, at least. We were pretty warm when we got home at ten-thirty, though, after the full circuit. Oh, and there was a little white pickup parked up behind the dumpster at the Heller house. Another pickup came by a little after I saw it; there was a seal or something that I didn't get a good look at on the door, and the driver stopped to ask, before driving down to Nevada, if the truck was mine. Well, no. 

Finished Memory. Miles, Miles.....

Grandma had me do some more weeding in the rock path. I got everything in the shade. While I was out there I saw a helicopter, which is common, but it wasn't really a common helicopter. I mean I've never seen this type flying around before. It was a military type, painted olive drab, and it was the type that has two equal rotors. I looked it up, and I think it's called Chinook. The photo I found--from the Miramar Air Show--was of a white one, though.

Ralph came over. Grandma paid him for the lawn, and we discussed the lessons a little further. The problem, apparently, is that parking lots are quietest on weekends. I didn't ask Ralph for weekend lessons, Phil can do that..... oh well. Work in progress.

At seven we larked. It was sunny but cool, and very nice out. We met a group of four, two men, woman, and boy, with two dogs. The off-leash dog looked like a red German Shepherd, which was probably a mix. The leashed one was (I asked) a blue-tick hound. Never met one of those before....Anyway. The clouds, present but distant at the beginning of the walk, were coming closer, and there were rare drops of rain by the time we were halfway home. We made it home before the rain started seriously.

Hmmmm, gotta mop tonight....

Fifteen pushups, twenty situps.

Medium brown dog, German Shepherd/Golden; short black poodly creature

B called. She was asking for my address again, which is pleasantly suspicious, but I think we ended up talking for half an hour, at least. Somehow it figures that if I'm going to get conflicting advice, some of it will be B's. I like Mr. Marble's advice better, anyway. So with that, it was almost ten when I got dressed to take the dog out. Trina says when there's no school, she sometimes stays in PJ's all day. Somehow, even with no livestock, I still can't do this. Interesting. Anyway, it was pretty hot by the time I gave up on finishing the first leg, and roasting when we got home to find Ralph gassing his mower at the end of the drive. Grandma asked him to mow all her long grass, because of the snakes. Sigh.

On a Cake kick.

Asked Ralph if he would give me some driving lessons. He said yes, if Grandma says yes. Grandma said yes. What did I just do?

Pat finally showed up to fix the swamp cooler. Yaaaaaay, cool air.....

Started Hellsing. I hope the art changes.*

Ten pushups in the middle of the afternoon....

*Whaddaya know, it does. That's better.

Walked the Lark after dinner, about seven-thirty or so. It was pretty nice out, but with an unhappy knee and stomachache, I didn't really enjoy it. Made the full circuit, though. We ran into a fair crowd in the willows along the road, though--four teenagers on bikes had stopped to ask directions of an early-middle-aged couple with two dogs. Fortunately the dogs were leashed, and Lark stayed out of range, because the brown one seemed a bit aggressive. I leashed her and dragged her off, but we didn't get enough of a head start, because once they started moving too the dogs could see each other again. Lark wanted to go back, and the brown dog barked. By the time we were on the road outside the gate I had had to carry her, because she sat down and I didn't want to drag her. Grrrrr. When we got to Eagle Rock they turned down the street, fortunately, and I could put the idiot dog down. Grr. I was beat when we got inside.

"Blue" came up on Pandora--for the first time, evidently; nobody'd thumbed it. This is no longer the case. :D

Ten more pushups, twenty situps.

Schnauzer, pit bull

Eventually dragged out of bed. At least my knee scabbed over--I skinned it last night on the stairs outside, which is ridiculous. Also, if Lark is going to make a habit off running over behind Myrdice's to bark at distant threats to the homestead, I am going to start taking her out last thing on a leash. I don't care if she comes back promptly or not, this is ridiculous. And unacceptable, did I mention that? Unacceptable. Unfortunately I'm not sure she knew why I was mad. She should know, at least, that she's not supposed to cross the road, but.....

We went out at about eight-forty-five. It was beginning to heat up but wasn't too bad, but by the time we got home, after an uneventful walk around the loop, it was hot enough. Somebody was weed-eating in the yard at the green house. A woman walking a schnauzer beat us out the gate. Nothing else to report. Hot....

It occurred to me that Whit, from The Sharing Knife, has a lot in common with Peter. Hm.

Read, did my schoolwork, fell asleep. Quiet afternoon.

Was unusually hungry at dinner....ate a lot, then had to convince my stomach that it ought to be full capacity by now. It shut up eventually, but I hope this isn't going to become a common occurrence.

I'm not sure what time we went for a walk, except that Antiques Roadshow was on. I do know it was eight when we finished talking to the middle-aged guy with a very well-mannered pit bull at the gate. He leashed her, because sometimes she does fight--she had a gash on her leg stapled because of another pit down on the road from Heller to Nevada--but she sat, and then lay down, quietly while we talked. He also asked if the older guy walking an Aussie he'd seen before had been my dad, but no. Also the dog was twelve, he said. I'd like to meet that pair sometime. Anyway, we talked for quite awhile, mainly about pits. But we parted eventually. I was surprised and a little amused to see a new sign at the trailhead: below "NO MOTORIZED VEHICLES" is a shiny new sign: "DEALING WITH URBAN WILDLIFE-- This is a natural area. There may be rattlesnakes. Please stay on the trail." Wasn't there this morning. I wonder if it has anything to do with the snake the Seamans' neighbors found? Anyway, we made the circuit, getting home after eight-thirty but before dark.

I skipped pushups to see how far I could get with the situps, but I only made twenty-five. -_-;

Mostly lab, possibly pit, and "mostly poodle, if not all"

Philip ended up being the one waking me up this morning, somewhat later than usual for a Sunday--eight-forty, maybe? I panicked, anyway, enough to get out of bed pretty promptly, and then forget what I do first--i.e., let the dog out. I remembered before actually, say pouring cereal, but it was a discomfiting feeling. There was one stoplight where Philip thought we were going to be late, and we just barely made it before the announcements. The sermon was on Romans 8:28-30, which kinda drives me nuts because of course they don't use KJV, and hearing the familiar words so changed drives me insane. Of course, it would probably still drive me nuts if the words were the same, because he would cadence them differently, but not as much.

After church we ran home to let the dog out for a few minutes, and then we went to the Boonzaijers' for lunch. There was rather a flock of children, Jenna's four and one more. Soren, the eldest, is perhaps ten; Decker (?), a friend, about the same. I think Charis told me she was five, Aunica (sp?) is two and a half, and Silas is just walking. He tends to run around under everyone's feet at church, which always rather startles me. I'm getting used to it; everyone else seems to take it for granted. It's such a small church, nobody really worries about losing track of their child. Have I mentioned I love this church? Anyway, besides the little ones, there were Jenna, Steve, Philip, me, and Ben. Ben seems to be an old friend of the family, especially of Jenna's, and he's very good with the kids. He's also a programmer friend of Philip's, so they talk to each other at church a lot. So the older kids all ate at the island, and the grownups and the toddlers ate at the kitchen table. The conversation was pretty interesting, mostly about the duty of Christians to the poor and whether it applies to those who are homeless through their own fault, etc. I didn't have much to contribute, but it was interesting to listen to. We eventually left, some time after dessert, fleeing a discussion of iPhone apps that degenerated into Jenna and Ben taking turns with Phil's phone playing a game on it. Ben threw her his phone so we could escape. 

It began to rain heavily shortly after we got home, and I read Passage until about five or so, when I took Lark out into cloudy humidity. We met two women up towards the far end of the first leg, accompanied by a muscular brindle sort-of-like-a-pit to whose breed they claimed ignorance, and a big black mostly-lab. Lark was pretty relieved to get away, because even after they were leashed the two dogs, both larger than she, continued to bark. Sheesh. So I jogged for a spurt, and then had to quash Lark for jumping at me while I ran, after which we walked. Actually she walked, trotted, loped, and galloped, but I walked. We went down to the head of the creek for splashes; it was pretty lively, after the afternoon's rain. Coming up out of the wash we encountered a familiar pair: a small poodle mix, sopping wet, and a shirtless man on the farther slope of middle age. I think the first thing he said, after greetings, was, "Oh. Military?" "Ah--no, I just like their clothes," I answered, in the most glib reply to that inquiry so far. After those two the rest of the walk was hot but uneventful.

Finished Passage, Philip went back to Golden, started another Mrs. Pollifax. Did I mention Jenna's given me another reason to drive now? She wants an au pair/housemaid, and while I don't think I'd live there coming over a few times a week, or whatever, would be cool. Also certain instincts were stirred by the kitchen floor. I just wanted to grab a mop and attack it. So add it to the list of "Things to Do that Someone Might Actually Pay Me For If I Move Out Here." So far we have:

Work at Rock Ledge Ranch (driver's license required)

Help Jenna out (ditto)

And anything more I think of.

Fifteen pushups, getting easier. Twenty situps--should probably up that.

Wolves

Well, got up at six-thirty, after going to bed some time after midnight, in order to go to Denver to take Mom to the airport. I slept in the car the whole way, which helped. After dropping Mom at the airport, Philip and I went to Mimi's, where he had breakfast. This one was a lot nicer than the Springs one. I'd already eaten and was still full, so I had strawberry lemonade. Very strong stuff. Anyway, fortunately I'd brought a Mrs. Pollifax in my purse, so I read while he ate.

After breakfast we went to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. They have an incredible number of animal dioramas, from manatees, kangaroos, wolves and deer to entelodonts and some sort of antelope creature. That was the Nebraska Woodland diorama in the dinosaur exhibit. The entelodont wasn't as colorfully ugly as the Walking With Prehistoric Beasts version--it was more drab, and while still ugly, less menacing. Philip and I discussed it and decided the best place to attack, if you were fighting the thing with a knife, would be the eye. Philip suggested the nose, too, but he was thinking for off scaring it off than killing it. It made me think of the beast Lissar and the dogs killed the night she was searching for the lost child. They had some pretty good casts of dinosaur skeletons, plus a few dioramas. There was one of a couple of Stygimoloch fighting--a type of pachycephalosaur, so they were fighting like bighorn sheep. Oh, and they had a Diplodocus cast. Nice. :D

We got home about one-thirty or so. It promptly started to rain, and we composed a shopping list until it stopped. Then we went to King Soopers. Philip took me to the library, too, where the only one of the three Sharing Knife books there Thursday was Passage. Feh. Well, thanks, big brother. I just wish I'd thought of it about an hour earlier than I did....of course, then someone would be cursing me. Hm. I wonder if I care?

We got home from grocery shopping and crashed. Grandma had to wake us up to make dinner. Lark helped her with me by climbing onto my stomach. I was more or less awake, if not alive, in time to slice onions and pickles for the bisonburgers without cutting off a finger, anyway.

As soon as the dishes were in the dishwasher I started booting up for a lark. We left at maybe ten to eight, and made the entire circuit before dark. It was close, but we made it in at eight-thirty. It was really nice out, too, after that rain: the creek was running, higher up; the air was cool, and filled with the smell of wet earth and vegetation; and, oh, the mosquitoes were out. Oops. I don't think I have any bites, though.

So Lark and I got a good walk in, but I think after the amount of sleep we both got today we'll be awake kinda late. Uh-oh. Well, if we don't watch MiB II I have plenty to read.

Read Dave Barry Does Japan, which while not actually a total waste of the money then made me wonder why the heck I had Dave Barry but not Amy Steinberger's Japan Ai, which is much more in tune to my interests, besides having great drawings and a complete lack of humorous artistic license. Gonna have to work on that, I suppose.

Fifteen pushups with a break in the middle; twenty situps nonstop. Went to bed much too late, but at least I got to sleep quickly, even after the long nap.

Oog.....I am so hung over....Finished Horizon at about two a.m. last night. I think the series is over now, but that doesn't do me a lot of good when my female relations are firmly pulling me out of bed. Got out with Lark about nine. We went most of the way along the first leg and still got home an hour later. Urgh..... And I didn't think to get the other books in the series even though I know I always want to read the earlier books afterwards.....

Was about up to where I would normally be at eight-thirty, consciousness-wise, by about ten-thirty when Lee left. I haven't decided whether to go back to sleep, reread Horizon, start Memory, or just stay on the computer. Mom shoved me onto the comp in the interests of keeping me awake until she and Grandma left for an appointment. I ended up reading Horizon most of the time they were gone.

Peter called after they got home. It was kinda fun talking to him. He wants me to tell Philip they got Crysis, and complained a little bit about Philip buying a Macbook. "Do you know how much he could get with that, in desktop stuff?" First he relayed the news, though, and I didn't even have to understand Doug's indistinct comment to reply: he says he can't get rid of the other laptop because then he'd only have one computer, an intolerable state. Yeah, sure. Oh, and he offered several trades for Lark: I could have Owen, I could have Baron, but send them Lark. Right. Oh, and Doug's apprenticeship to Hank seems a little unlikely at the moment, thanks to more legal troubles about Josh. There's no way I would be able to understand it from talking to Peter about it, but sufficeth it that Josh was arrested, CPS got involved, and now CPS is threatening Josh's family with prison, on undisclosed charges. O-kay.

Isaac called at five-fifteen to ask if I wanted to come watch a movie tonight? No, sorry, I was going somewhere with Mom on her last evening--but would he like me to come over and play for awhile? He would. So we ran around and stuff until six. 

After dinner Mom and I went to Goodwill. I got books, she got clothes. I don't think I got any clothes, in the end....=_= But I got lots of books! Dorothy Gilman, and a random volume of Fruits Basket, the last in Mary Stewart's Merlin trilogy that I have the middle volume of but haven't read the first and am terrified of the last, a random book that looked interesting, and--wait for it--Dave Barry Does Japan. I am positive it's a bad idea, but I couldn't resist.

I'm not sure what just happened, but the result is Mom telling me that I'm coming home August 10. Uh.....okay?

Golden retriever, beagle, black lab, dachshund, chihuahua pug, two Great Danes

Lark and I took a short walk at nine-fifteen, when it was still nice and cool. The lawnmower guy saw us and waved. On the way back we met a dog who was probably the result of an affair between a golden retriever and a bear. I mean, he moved like a bear, he was really big and really furry. The impression was of a golden bear. He was really nice, though, and friendly, although I regret to say he was also one of those dogs that just straight up shoves his nose up between your legs. I'm not sure the owners can tell I notice, though. Anyway, Lark liked him too; I think she was going to elope with him, but she came back in the end.

As soon as I got home I changed for town. We had to go with Grandma to choose frames and decide how she wanted her lenses. They had some really nice frames, but I'm inclined to think the ones I have suit me best after all. After that we went to the bank, and we're going to the library after Grandma has her nap.

Grandma decided she didn't want to go, so it was just Mom and me. We went to East first, and I got Memory and Cotillion to reread. They didn't have the last Bujold, but Rockrimmon branch did, so we went there. :D Horizon, I think this one is.

I was reading Horizon when Sid called to say that Sidney was over, and did I want to come play? Sure. So I came over and played from four-thirty to five-thirty, and then went home for dinner and to ask if I could go to Isaac's ballgame. I could. So I went back over at six-thirty, and Sid and Sidney and I went to watch the game. The players were pretty good. I was impressed by the adults' catching skills. Lots of people brought dogs, too. There was a beagle, which I would have talked to but it was about to throw up on someone's sandaled feet; an aging lab, who was delighted to have his ribs scratched; a dachshund, who figured out that I would rub her tummy and keep the little boy at the other end from pulling her lead (dragon versus tiger, anyone?); a black pug, whom I never went to pet; and two black Danes being walked past on the footpath. Sigh. They found a chihuahua willing to play, though. It was kinda hilarious. Oh, and someone in the stands had a chihuahua. Pink accessories. I fell into conversation with a little girl petting Ginger the dachshund with me. I think she had something to say about chihuahuas. It may come as no surprise that I have no idea who won. I do know that Isaac got the MVP ball until the next game. He's a pretty good catcher. Sid took me to play in the park in the last inning, having been lobbying for it since before the game started. She had to show off her "big kid" friend to her other friends, you see. Ashley wasn't too interested, but I think she softened up after I was allowed to actually say hi. Anyway, after the game ended she and Isaac had me play Lava Monster with them. It was Isaac's idea, because it involves him taunting me from a strong position while I try to get him. I'm not allowed to come up on the playset to tag them, and it's not hard to stay out of reach. I ended up enlisting Sidney's help, but keeping her on my shoulders was harder than climbing up on the outside, and either way Isaac's faster. We did end up tagging him (mostly ignoring the little girl he got to join in, who I'm not sure actually understood our fast English), but then it got harder, because he wanted me to stay on the ground and help him, while Sidney wanted to stay with me. I was saved by the bell, in the end. Sid and Brooke came to say it was time to go. It was dark and raining when I got home, after a fun couple of hours.

Husky/Sheltie, golden, dachshund

Larked at ten to nine. It was much too hot by the time we got home. We met the Husky/sheltie again, though. Her mistress asked if Grandma had kicked me out early again. Yeah, kinda, except it isn't even early anymore. Legacy thought she had to protect her mistress from Lark. Yeesh, and my dog hasn't even realized I need protecting from anything. Possibly just as well......

Started a series I've had on the wishlist for months. Watashitachi no Shiawasena Jikan, Our Happy Hours, is a manga adaptation of a Korean novel, with Sahara Mizu in charge. I've always liked Sahara Mizu; her works leave me with an indescribable feeling, a sort of disturbed peace. This one is no exception. It's the story of a young woman who doesn't play the piano any more and a young man on death row. As they open up to each other, we learn their stories, feeling their pain as they feel one another's. And as they teach each other to find meaning in life again, these two people, who have both tried to commit suicide several times, learn to hope--and to fear. There's one more chapter untranslated in the series, and it'll probably be a couple weeks before they release it.

Sahara Mizu is the only mangaka whose multiple tragedies I'll read, knowing for certain that they are tragic. --What is that word?It's a strange word.....What are its parts, how do they fit together? Maybe it's Greek.... Excuse me a moment...........Hm. Apparently the unreadable Greek root meant "goat-song." Latin derived from it "tragaedia," which came to Old French as "tragedie." Should've seen that coming.

I was reading Hourou Musuko by the time the man came to work on the swamp cooler. Patrick is a middle-aged Japanese man, shorter than I am, and he said the cooler has a bearings problem, which he will fix tomorrow. Right. Okay.

Mike came by after three to talk to Grandma. She brought one of the watermelons Grandma likes, Dulcinea from Safeway. I balled it for a watermelon salad, like the other night's. Mom got here about five, in time for dinner, and there was enough time for me to take Lark for a quick run before that--with the result that I was extra hungry, of course. 

We larked again at eight. Saw a woman out biking, who passed us quickly. Lark followed her, though, and when she was getting out of sight at the bend in the end of the slope I started to jog. Just as well, too--she'd met up with a dog. He was this little, hilariously round black and red dachshund. His people were on the turnoff to Nevada, with a golden wondering if he wanted to come over too. In the end, the dachshund went back to them, and they talked the goldie into coming while I told Lark she didn't need to go over. We, again, didn't even go all the way along the first leg. It was really buggy, and I had to have us back before dark. There was a young red buck feeding in the willows on the way back. He watched us suspiciously, not bolting even when Lark galloped past. I love it when the deer just watch....

Fifteen pushups again, no breaks, urgh. Twenty situps--getting easier. I have to take a break after the pushups or I don't make any progress with the situps, though.

They were playing Dvorak's New World Symphony when I went to bed. I lay awake listening trying to figure out what it was--my first guess had been Dvorak, but then there was plenty of time for second-guessing before the ninth movement, which is the bit I know really well--and then I think as soon as it got to the ninth movement and I went, "Oh, so it was Dvorak," and relaxed, I went to sleep. Oh well.

I don't feel so good.....like my circulation is inadequate or something...... =_= Bleah. Haven't felt this bad in weeks. Dreamed I found a new issue of Shojo Beat in a store....but both covers were ads, and I don't remember any manga inside. I've come to the conclusion my subconscious doesn't have enough to do around here. At least I don't remember any Bara no Tame ni dreams--those would probably be pretty weird.

From Doug: 

"And in other news: Looks like I may well be going to Hank's for a month. If nothing comes up between now and next Monday, I gather. I'm looking forwards to it, I suppose. I mean, working from 8 A.M. to 2 A.M. sounds rather daunting, but the worst I'm worried about is my level of fitness dropping quite a bit... Well, we'll see... We'll see..."

What, I go so kick Doug out too? I feel sorry for Mom already, with just Peter and Owen....

Larked at nine, after Diane got here. Planned to take the long way again, but it was an oven so we took the short way. It took almost as long as I'd expected the long way to take, too. Met a middle-aged couple in great shape jogging. Women, take care of your fitness level and your appearance will look after itself.....at least, that's what I think. 

Carole came today. She's going to Missouri for someone's wedding tomorrow through Sunday, so she scheduled today before she left. I like talking to her. Did I ever tell the story from when I was reading Out of Africa? I'd been reading in the kitchen while she did the studio, so after she finished I was walking by carrying it. "Oh, that's a good book," she said. A very small incident, but it still amuses me.

Decided I'd spent enough time mucking about with equations and went on to square roots today. Considering my mental abilities today, this was probably easier anyway. When trying to think feels like moving through a swamp, it's much easier to go "oh, okay, radicand," than actually try to solve anything. Although I did a fair amount of reading when the math wouldn't work and I was trying to stay awake. Especially during the period when the Net went out.

At five I succumbed to the nap attack that'd been threatening most of the day, figuring since I'd have to wake up for dinner, I wouldn't get enough sleep to seriously interfere with my sleep cycle. I think in the end I got half an hour of uninterrupted sleep, and then I had to start coming to some form of consciousness every five minutes to throw a tennis ball. At least it meant I wasn't completely asleep when Grandma came in. I was adequately conscious to catch the television saying the Nova program tonight would be (in fancy font) "The Secrets--of Samurai Swords." Oh, hey, that looks interesting. So after dinner (salmon) I held Lark off and watched it. It was pretty interesting, really. On the one hand you have professors and scientists from various Western universities talking about atomic structures of steel, and on the other you have Japanese craftsmen explaining about the shrine in the forge. Cool. There were lots of fight scenes, too, interesting mainly for the costumes, and they had a kendo master and his daughter demonstrating this ritual--I'm not too clear on what it was, actually, but it involved the master's daughter shooting at him with a Japanese longbow, and the master had to cut the arrow before it hit him--and it could easily have killed him. He did, too. And there were no fail-safes or anything. They were kinda late in the program, though--it started with smelting the steel, in a clay furnace called a tatara, like the name of Sarasa's brother in The Legend of Basara. I wonder if Tamura-sensei had that in mind? After that was the swordsmith--I was amused to see that the apprentices do stuff like hammering. Very efficient. After him was the polisher, and then they started talking about collectors and museums. Oh well. There were movie clips, though, and did I mention the fight scenes? And the costumes? Mmmm. 

At eight the program ended, and I couldn't hold Lark off any longer, so we left. It was just the first leg again, and very buggy it was. I had to let my hair down first thing. We met three lady joggers who may have been three generations of a family. The ages seemed about right. We made it home about nine, I think.

Fifteen nonstop pushups on hard; twenty nonstop situps.

Husky puppy, Maltese

Gurgh. I've only been reading this manga for two days, and I'm having dreams about it. Abnormally fast results, those. I woke up at three a.m. from one and lay awake for several minutes convincing myself that those shadows weren't ghosts. Sigh. The subconscious is a terrible thing. I don't know whether they were the ones from Ghost Hunt or not, but at least there were some nice characters in my dreams.

At nine o'clock, after letting Lee in, I went over to Sid's to return her milk and get paid. I ended up staying for an hour, with the result that I went home about the time I should've gotten home from walking the dog. By the time Jinn came to take Grandma to the eye-doctor and we got going, it was pretty hot. We took the usual way through the Heller estate, where, by the way, there was still a big scuffed place in the path. I went ahead and wrote "AKUMETSU" with the edge of my boot. We continued up past the pond. I decided on the spur of the moment that we'd take the residential way home. I hate it when I do this, because it always means I have no water, and spend the entire way wondering if Lark's going to be okay. I also ended up worrying about myself for a bit, which is rare because I don't get as hot as Lark does, but I was fine after a house with a spigot on the front and no ground-level windows. The lawn was so soggy it squished, so I didn't even feel very guilty. That didn't help Lark, though, because there was nothing for her to drink from. I think I'm going to start carrying a plastic bag to line my hat for her. A couple puddles tided her over until we hit the drainage below the dorms. There was a very big puddle in the bottom of the depression there. I sat on the dike plotting our advance while Lark splashed around, attacking the columns she produced and ending by tearing around in circles through the water--which may have been three to six inches at the deepest point. Our course was originally set for the Pole's driveway, at the closest point. This course was rendered inadvisable by the presence of a woman on the balcony, having a deep discussion on the telephone. I did not think she would be happy to meet me, so we went along the outside of the fence until the pines blocked her view. I should perhaps add that I don't think she ever noticed us. Anyway, we ended up going along below the curve of the rise until we were in the next neighbor's yard. Lark led the way, being familiar with the territory, until I decided we could get up to the drive. We followed it home and came in across the lawn. Interestingly, I think it took less than an hour and a half--even with the boots' weight, I'm still covering ground substantially faster than I was. Interesting.

Oh. Yeah. And we met a woman with the most adorable little husky on a leash. I think she's trying to train him not to pull while he's still small--good luck to her. He had really soft fur, though, and blue eyes. His ears were the best, though. It was like a cross between a rabbit and a mule. The effect was adorable. He realized shortly that Lark had possibilities, but when he stood up against the collar, waving his forepaws at her, she backed out of reach and watched him suspiciously. I took ourselves off.

Finished Ghost Hunter. Somebody made a comment about Bara no Tame ni that I didn't remember happening, and I started thinking about it....so now I'm rereading that. Better hope I don't end up rereading Berserk. 

Lark and I went for our walk at about seven-twenty. We met the lady from next door to the Seamans, Donnice (sp?), out walking their Maltese. Telling Grandma about it, she said, "Yes, Donnice is cute."   ........Okay. Anyway, it was nice and cool, but buggy, so I let my hair down. I think I lost two Apparent Maturity levels and gained three Apparent Weirdness levels, but hey, I also gained five Pest Repellant levels, so it was worth it all the way. Besides, I only saw two people on the way home--Ralph Seaman was talking to someone in an SUV. Oh well.

"Brianstorm" by the Arctic Monkeys had me humming a bit from the Weird Al AMV for most of the walk. =_= Dan dan, dudadudadudadudadu dan dan..... never mind.

Fifteen pushups, lower and harder than usual. Broke once or twice, no pattern. Fifteen situps, could probably start doing more if I didn't do 'em right after pushups.