Tonight we made our final pass through the apartment and cleaned out the last of our crap. We only lived there for 11 months, and the place was certainly nothing special, but it was a little sad to walk through and see our former home very empty and scuzzy. It was redonk how small the place looked, especially the master bedroom. We’ll have to wait until the cleaning crew can go through to find out the final damages on the carpet, but I assume it won’t be pretty.
As I mentioned on Facebook, this Saturday morning is our new neighborhood association’s annual day o’ fun, with everything from hot air balloons to a pancake feed to BBQ stands. Lauren, Baxter, and I are thinking of running in the neighborhood 5K. I have never done one before, but with two other races on the horizon, I feel like it would be good practice. Another “race” I signed up for today is the Karaoke 5K, with Ryan Bartholic. From what I hear it has nothing to do with how fast you run, but more to do with singing karaoke whilst running; everyone gets a portable radio to run with. And then in November is the Warrior Dash, which I’m beginning to fear a little bit. It seems really hard.
The Twins won tonight and moved ahead of the Indians for 4th in the weak AL Central, but more importantly, Josh Willingham became the first Twins player in my lifetime to hit 35 home runs in a season. Harmon Killebrew was the last to do it in 1970. Sounds impressive, but every other team has accomplished the feat multiple times in the past ten years. Proof that ‘roids probably weren’t going around the Metrodome in the mid-90s.
I burned my tongue and now it’s full of those annoying little bumps and I can’t stop messing with it and it’s only getting worse. This happens to me very frequently.
Lastly, here’s hoping for some heavy rain in Carpenter, South Dakota. Mom texted me a series of eerie photos of wildfires striking up all over the prairie, and haybales spontaneously combusting. It sounds like they may actually be worse off in Carpenter this year than we were in Austin in 2011. Here’s a picture Mom sent that she calls “Farmer Contemplates Fire.” Farmer, of course, is Dad.
Actually, these bales didn’t spontaneously combust, they caught on fire after a fire swept through this field, but your description is more dramatic. A combine started the fire, and it was windy, hence the comtemplating farmer.
Wow, Marcie. Nice photo. Should sell that to a newspaper!