We decided to come into town Saturday night so that we could have room service this morning. It was a very wise move. We were up at 5 and enjoyed the luxury of having breakfast delivered without missing any of the golf.
God bless Ernie and his family, and Adam will have other chances to win.
We had both cars so she was able to go to church and I, as is my wont, headed to the mountains in the truck.
There is a watermelon on ice in the bed and I intend to soak until late tonight. The hot water is the greatest analgesic there is for my legs.
It has become a bit of a habit of mine to drive back early in the morning with a cup of 7-11 coffee and a nice Maduro to enjoy the trip.
Summer is moving along and I continue to jam all the life possible into each day. I hate everything about winter and dread the thought of the coming darkness.
I had found a nice boxcar in the middle of boxcar graveyard. The graveyard lay below Soldier Field in a maze of tracks that stretched forever.
I understand that the area has been gentrified and that the Mayor lives on my old turf now - strange how it goes.
But it was a nice boxcar with a door that worked and nice new wood inside. I could lock the car/home in the day and unlock it at night - a very sweet deal.
Because there was no water near, I had to cross the freeway on the overpass for the rail line to get water at Solder Field. Not that I drank too much water in those days but occasionally.
Normally I would stop at the corner and pick up a six pack and a chicken wing dinner and head thru the yard to home.
As I threw my chicken wings out the door there started to be a regular zoo of critters stopping by at night to see what was on the menu.
One night I had a couple of gallons of water so I put out a small bowl of water and changed the world.
From then on it was a family of possums, a pair of pheasants, numerous critters and the largest raccoon I had ever seen visiting the local watering hole.
It makes sense - there was no other water available and it was apparent that they could smell the (now large) pan outside my door.
The raccoon would crunch the chicken bones with the most frightening sound I can describe. It was clear that he could eat your hand with no problem whatsoever.
On day on my trip back from soldier field I saw the raccoon dead in the freeway. Why he would cross that road is beyond me.
But the winter ended and I had proved to myself that I could live outside in the winter by the edge of the lake and live. I am not certain that I cared which way the experiment ended in those days. It did not seem important.