Hey Possumblogger Boy! What we gonna do this weekend?
Since it now seems as though all five of us will make it through the day today (and yes, we did stay here all day, and I did get some work done in spite of a near continual rebukes to Catherine to stop acting like…well, like a five year old), so it looks like we will have a fun-filled weekend.

The kids started swimming lessons this week, which has been fun for all of them except Oldest Girl, who has decided that she really didn't know how to swim after all, even though beforehand, she knew alllllll about it. Their first lesson was Wednesday, which I missed, but Reba said they all did pretty well. Yesterday, I did get to go with them, and Big Girl managed to allow herself to become scared witless by the whole experience and broke down into big, Broadway-style melodramatic sobbing wailing hysterics. Did I mention fun?

The other kids are doing just fine. Lots of splash, lots of swallowed water, but their ears are remarkably clean of ear wax. Me? Well, if you ever want to really feel like a perv, try showing up for your kid's swimming lessons dressed like a G-man. I came straight from work, and while everyone else was wandering around in swim suits, I was trying to look suavely comfortable in a deck chair while wearing wingtips and a tie. I felt like such a peeping Tom.

Of course, a lot of that comes from being a peeping Tom.

Never before have I had to think of so many horrible, sad, dead-kitten-type-things and so many mindless statistical data as when I was sitting there right behind Baby Girl's moltenly voluptuous, tanned, electric blue Speedo-clad teacher, who had gotten out of the pool and was bending over the edge to better instruct her young charges in the finer points of foot-kicking.

Did you know that the firing order of the American Motors V-8 engine is 1-8-4-3-6-5-7-2? Did you know that the exhaust valve lift on the 390 is .425"? Did I ever tell you about the time I backed over a puppy in a friend's driveway, and then ran over it again going forward? Did you know that older versions of Mosin-Nagant M-91 rifles have sights calibrated in arshins, rather than meters or yards? Did you know that an arshin is about .711 meters or .778 yards? Did you know that under the Accessibility Guidelines of the Americans With Disabilities Act, a handicapped space must have a sign so designating the space which is mounted high enough so that it is visible if the space is occupied?

Oh, thank goodness she got back in the pool. I had started running out of stuff to occupy my mind and it had started edging back to appreciating the finer form-following qualities of Spandex. And I've got to think up more stuff for this afternoon when we go back. At least today I am a bit more casual, seeing as how it's Friday--I left my tie at home. What a goob.

Tomorrow, it's horseback riding lessons in the morning, and as reported Monday, they are supposed to lasso their own beast this time. So far, they've managed to do very well with these horsebrained, multi-hundred pound masses--I guess they've had good practice having lived with me. Then afterwards there will be the normal grass cutting and cogitating on all the world's woes. I'm telling you, if everyone had a lawn mower, there would be a whole lot less hatred in the world. Except of dandelions. And I will get to try out my new straw hat my lovely wife got me for Father's Day. I am getting tired of burning up my neck and ears, and have been looking for something just short of a sombrero to wear, and she got me a nice one that doesn't look too old-farty. (Although don't look for me to wear it to the kid's swimming lessons)

Sunday, as always, will be church day and it will be spent trying to recover the spiritual and physical energy required to return for another scintillating week of working for the good citizens of our fair city.

Hope y'all have a fun weekend, too. See you Monday.
posted by Terry at 4:31:00 PM