People keep telling me the heat is a little less this week. I’m not sure. I’m just sure it’s time to cut my hair.

The race on Tuesday night went as usual: finished with the pack, but held on until the end. Oh, except for the part where on the last lap two guys started bouncing off of each other ahead of me. This was as they entered the fastest part of the course.

To my credit, I saw it all happening just ahead of me, and backed way off. Then, as they had clearly locked bars, I moved as far to the inside of the turn as I could. They disappeared rather rapidly to the outside of the turn, where I heard a couple of nasty sounding crunches. On later investigation, this turned out to be the death-throes of a Cannondale frame. Net result of the crash was two guys slightly hurt (minor cuts, thanks to a soft landing in grass), and a Cannondale with three fatal kinks in its tubing, and the most colossally bent handlebar ever: the right bar was folded up in an almost tidy fashion.

My quick thinking kept me way away from the danger zone, but I was already well out of the sprint. I just managed to catch up to the pack in time to finish with the ragged bunch.

Wednesday night, I mowed the dandelions in the lawn.

The Lovely One’s new job is peachy, so she’s enjoying that. I’m stuck in neutral, and now I’m addicted in fierce fashion to Weboggle, which is the cleanest, tidiest, neatest implementation of Boggle ever. It makes Frenchy’s Cubes look really bad.

To do: make crab apple wine, play more Weboggle. That is all.