Every time I walk back from the cafeteria here, I step outside, tilt back my head,
and just smell the breeze. The courtyard isn't all that exciting, and most of it
is covered in concrete, but it has sagebrush and mesquite trees, and even some
anomalous grass, and the air at the time of day is pleasantly warm and breezy.
This won't last much longer; in another month or so I'll be taking the shortest
path across to try to get out of the broiling heat. But for now ....
ahhhhh.
This morning, Rudder took the single and neither Hardcore nor
She-Hulk wanted to row the double with me (because they wanted to make sure they
didn't leave the city people with too few rowers to fill a boat. The city men,
though, were about to take out an eight with only six rowers, so I volunteered to
row with them -- I figure at least I'm stronger than the empty seat they'd have
had otherwise. Then once we got out in the lake, Yosemite Sam announced we were
going to row very hard, for a very long time. Oig. He told us we would be rowing
"as hard as we could" for an hour. I interpreted this to mean, "as hard as we
could sustain for that long", which is a very different thing. Fortunately, he had
to break after half an hour to switch people around and let the coxswain get a
chance to row, so I got out then. (I had told them I needed to leave a little
early to get to work on time.) The funny thing is that I wasn't nearly as tired as
I should have been after half an hour at full pressure. Either I wasn't keeping up
my end or those men are a bunch of wimps.
Shout out to Mechaieh:
this would be another good day to commend yourself for retiring as listmom. Oy.
But I think I've got a solution to the latest dilemma that is not only workable
but positive -- now we'll see how it goes in practice.