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Coming down off a bananas trip to Colorado—not to visit the family, but to cover a sporting event of ludicrous proportions. I did see the fam for a second, though. Ate a quick lunch in a book-store cafe where nephew Patrick procured a book about paper airplanes. Awesome. Anyway, an observation: Twittering and Web-casting, have you heard of these things? They are apparently a pretty essential part of modern journalism, but ... this sort of technology makes me uncomfortable. I just want to write stuff down in a notebook and then not be able to read it later when it's seasoned into cryptic, coffee-stained nonsense. Is that so wrong? I’m not sure if it’s cliché or not to eschew new technology, but I can’t seem to help it. Hell, though, I’ve got this thing you’re reading, so I can’t be a total caveman. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m down—but only to a certain point, you know?

I’ve been home for two days and I’m still tired. However, I did manage a jaunt up to Windell’s to skate the ‘new stuff.’ It was a little wet, but no big deal, I wasn’t in the mood to really get too raw—just down to relax into some mini-rampin’ and catch up on some Northwest living.

Little Cathy grinded right over the pyramid thingy.

Dry season, where are you?

Peter Gunn pivot, captured sniper-style.

Dusk came quickly and quietly, on little cat feet.