The boy and I went with mom tonight to the dog park, where she tried a new collar on the pup. The boy and I brought all of his baseball gear and had the clay baseball field next to the dog park to ourselves, at sundown. We did some batting practice, some catch, and some fielding practice. If the boy would connect with one while batting - a binger - he would gleefully run the bases. I would pretend to be guarding home base while functioning as the stadium announcer and the crowd as a ball was being thrown in from the outfield and he would giggle and try to evade being thrown out at home.
We bought a bag of 12 practice balls to add to the 4 that we already had. He bought a catcher's mitt with mom that he has started to use almost exclusively.
I arranged for the boy and I to go camping this weekend, with his buddy J and J's dad. We're going to a private campground, with a pool, and activities of some kind, I'm sure. Most of all we're going because the summer has almost gotten away from us and we had talked about doing it. We had talked about doing lots of things.
Earlier today Rhys said, this summer has sucked. Well, he might not have said it exactly like that, but that's what I heard. It has sucked.
We read from a Star Wars book before bed - all the heroes and villains of the original movie.
This is just a dutiful report of the day, nothing more. I had hoped that I would convey the pleasure of the baseball field, the magic of the unexpected moment. The right sentence never arrived. Thrown out at 1st base.
Cato sent this suggestion over - ゆらゆら帝国 3 x 3 x 3. I had sent him John Fahey's Days Have Gone By. So far, I love it. It's the most energetic and vital thing I've heard in months. It is at least worth a solid skip-through. There is a wonderful garage-psychedelic diversity to the album.
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