Physical training this morning was just fun. Greg, my trainer, is a serious young fellow. All we have in common, for chit-chat while I follow instructions, are my understanding of his month old fatherhood stint, and his vast repertoire of everything sports. Nora Grace still holds them sleep deprived, but that’s the price to be paid, so we moved into his comfort zone, sports.
I’m always curious for his take on LeBron James. As Shacq said, James should quit chasing rings and just play it out as the greatest player ever. We all know Shacq didn’t get into or out of that Buick gracefully, but when he sat behind the wheel and said it wasn’t your daddy’s Buick any more, we know he said the truth.
Apparently the Cleveland Cavaliers drafted someone, and Greg started in on should the Cavs make a trade, or have LeBron tripping over the kid. I mentioned Shacq’s opinion, and training stopped. Greg knows my knowledge of basketball can be balanced on a finger. “You know who Shacq is?” Greg, he is way too easy on the eyes, and pleasantly fluffy. Of course I know Shacquile O’Neal.
After lunch we went grocery shopping. Little Miss Cook’s had a tough week. Last Friday, home from South Carolina, her shopping basket consisted primarily of snacks for Laura. I was curious, as I put the debit card into the slot, but it’s not my budget and not my job. It’s been a week of interesting meals from the child who never says “Uncle”. Nor do her siblings or sires, you may recall, but not with Laura’s finesse. She concocted edible meals from an empty refrigerator. Fortunately for her, the freezer and the pantry still yielded, meagerly.
I wandered off in the grocery store, and found tomatillos. It’s been twenty or more years. I put some in a bag. At $1.49 a pound, it couldn’t be that big a mistake. Laura googled her way to reducing a couple of them to a salsa that she added to alfredo and served over her old standby, noodles. Pretty good. I think there will be more in the future.
Yesterday I succeeded, after innumerable false starts, to drag Overdrive to Windows 10, and download two books. I picked Charlotte’s Web and Inconceivable Tales from the Making of The Princess Bride.
As I’ve occasionally mentioned, I remember essentially nothing of every book I’ve ever read. I would have guessed with a straight face that a spider was involved in the former. Like the fifty percent chance of getting a True/False right. Rob Reiner wrote the intro to Inconceivable Tales, which I read on the library’s web page. I think this book may be as good as the movie.
And last, my pastime of admiring my garden, and Laura’s contribution to the summertime art class she leads for library kids ("The Library Rocks"!). Oh, yes, all that rain in the west made it across to Ohio. I’ll put money on an inch in the rain gauge tomorrow.