My brain ought to be back to normal by now. (insert "normal" joke here.)
I've been taking it easy the last week or so. I feel guilty for doing it, but my brain hasn't been up to the challenge of anything greater than watching daytime TV, inspiring sports movies (seriously, "Invincible" and "The Greatest Game Ever Played" in the same week), and cartoons.
Chiles and Whitney stopped by on their whirlwind tour of the historic Northeast. They now know the horrific majesty of the Ada-Philadelphia drive. Next time, stop off in Gettysburg, you two. That'll be on your historic Mid-Atlantic Civil War tour, next year, right?
Ingrid came for a weekend, and will come again next weekend to see Caitlin's play. She's appearing in "Our Town" as the female lead. I know, because I drove her to her audition, and to rehearsal twice. I greatly appreciate Ingrid's forbearance of my manner, in my limited cognitive capacity.
Courtney tried to kill me -- I mean, showed me her two-seam fastball. I was lucky. Two inches lower and it would have snapped off my xiphoid process and killed me. I know Chris has all sorts of pitching prowess, and I know better than to ask him to bring the heat. But Courtney's only seven, man. I should be safe having a pitch with her.
Thanks to everyone who called to help me set up my new phone. The rest of you are total jerks. (No, that's not true. Just most of you.)
--1:16 PM, EDT, Warminster, PA
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