Nothing much to report in the usual diary format, other than to point out that we had a visitor in the casa last night, this little guy:
I am pretty much convinced that these mourning doves and tortoises are what your local PTA chapter might term "gateway pets," and I'm going to come home to a friggin' aardvark or something one of these days. S & W were naturally very interested in what the heck was crawling around in the aerated tupperware container, but we limited their diet to carrots for the evening. Poor neglected guys.
Frank posted his essay on modern academic geography, btw, and you should check it out.
Otherwise nothing terribly adrenaline-pumping going on around here. We're playing two meaningless competitive league games tonight (by which I mean they are even more relatively meaningless than their normal state of absolute meaninglessness, given that we have already clinched our spot in the finals), so i should return with glorious tales of soreness tonight. And that's "sore"ness, not "soar"ness, what with my 18 inch vertical of late - Egads. Perhaps I should have dialed Mr. Clemens when I passed my 28 year athletic apex.
Mitchell Report Mitchell Report Mitchell Report BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
That was my imitation of a sports blog.
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