Bunker Time

The Dazzling Cali-Duo

As previously reported, yesterday was a serious recovery day after a severely taxing (but oh so much fun) Deckzilla Saturday. While certain mundane tasks such as the laying in of weekly provisions could not be avoided I did my very best to limit physical exertion to an absolute minimum, with varying degrees of success. The weather helped out since it was uniformly uncomfortable outside with temperatures in the 90s and 100% humidity (reminded me of southern Georgia in the early 1980s). We seem to get a lot more of these type days than I remember from my youth. There might be something to this whole global warming after all.

Cat Pursuit Thwarted

The Man Cave proved to be a godsend and the perfect lair for a day chosen to avoid all effort. Buddy was in a similar frame of mind since he spent the entirety of Saturday night being terrorized by a seemingly endless series of thunderstorms. Testimony to the effectiveness of my libationary excess was my ability to sleep through it all. He spent the entire day sprawled at my feet, waking just long enough to pass tear inducing gas and then falling back to sleep. I spent the day watching Olympics, Red Sox, and some truly bad cinema. I think I fell deeply in love with the Australian female beach volleyball team; please don’t mention this to the Favorite Panamanian.

Wingman (r) Basking in Georgia Stickiness Yesterday

I did emerge from the funk long enough to talk with the dazzling California ladies. My granddaughter has now increased crawling speed by adding some new techniques picked up from her play date buddy and has mastered the use of the straw. Her relentless pursuit of the house cat continues unabated. Wingman was in Atlanta and if the picture is an indication discovered what I was talking about above. Georgia in the summer is not for the faint of heart. I’ve always said my Georgia summers were tougher to take than the stickiest weather Panama, Haiti, or any other of the garden spots the Army, in its infinite wisdom, sent me to.