In Trivial Pursuit I’m always better at the Pop Culture or Sports questions than Science.  Though I latch on to science folk and try to learn from them, I guess I prefer books about life at Sea or in a Band.

Was out in shorts and T yesterday, nearly applied sunblock to children. In February, that’s how it’s been.  I fully get we/West haven’t the reality or even imagination of the snow banks out East, but we’ve had our wind(s) this winter.

The season’s wind damage to the acre:

• some shingles + ridge cap down
• big flying branch takes out gutter section, could have been worse
• big flying branch takes out no one, could have been worser
• significant neighbor branch flies a long way on to our property
• shed door wildly swings open busting hinge and post
• birdhouse down

Here’s what I already know is true, there’s always more than one thing that’s true.

12

I can see it. I expect a win. –> This is still a relatively new mindset for a Seattle Sports Fan historically prone to low expectations and a well-guarded heart. It feels rather nice to prepare for something good to happen. I could get used to not being used to pain. The other shoe can drop if it pleases, I just won’t be waiting for it. And since I don’t even know what that expression means, I’ll forget it completely and visualize success.

Of course nobody knows what will ultimately transpire. No one of us can foretell which will be THE moments or who will fall and rise in the end.
So sure I might get hurt, I just don’t see it happening. What we see matters.

All kinds of time. What we all want.

When you (and by you I mean I) find yourself looking to the internet to get answers to the really big questions –>  stop/slap self and find other resources.

When we look to the internet to get answers to what time the game starts or how to tie a uni-knot, that’s OK.*

-Wesley Withrow

*Policy 6.2a.    ME also considers comedy podcasts and Radiolab-like stuff** to be acceptable internet use.

**A listing of currently approved shows can be found under subsection My Brain.

Already got what I wanted.

Thanks anyway Santa.

I’m in that weird zone right now, where I could be at a surprise/flash-mob 50th birthday party one week & the next be celebrating the birth of a 1 year old with fists of cake.

​Christmas is kind of like the Olympics. Both have hurdled off from their intended roots and become coerced happenings, co-opted and commercialized. They are Mega-Things full of colorful lights and shiny jewelry leaving a lot of trash in their wakes. In some of the darker corners corruption has set in. Copies have been made, overindulgences, but it gets convoluted when you compare Sochi to Bethlehem. It’s easy to be confused by all the advertisements. I think the IOC now actually runs both events.

But, I’m still a fan. And in between the cracks I’ve seen greatness. Underneath the layers of bubble wrap there are still Kerri Strug one-legged vaults and unbridled giving moments of joy to be had. Between commercials there can still be wonder. Above the noise and bustle meaningful instants can pop up during the Nordic Combined or Tree Trimming.

As if I can bury my head in the sand but still see the star light, I imagine the good bishop Saint Nicholas stretching out to pass the golden baton to a waiting child who anchors and wins the 4 x 100 then wraps it up in comic book paper to lay under the tree for the three wise men. The stands are filled with Salvation Army bell ringers and Costas does the fireside interview with the proud parents. Then, we all have cocoa.

T claims she grew noticeably on our recent escapade to Florida.  Evidenced by where her belly now reaches the bathroom counter vs. prior to the trip. Soon she won’t need a stool.