I am nothing if not patient. I think all of the years working in clay taught me to see and to value process, without a rush to finish. Well over a year ago, I began the process of changing the name of this blog. First I settled on a name I liked, Dotcalm, and determined that there were no searchable trademarks or published trademark applications filed for it. Then I signed up for that name at Blog-City, Blogger and WordPress. Of course, what's the joy of process without the distractibility of attentional defecit, so there I sat for over a year. Finally, last week, aided by the fine Mayoress of our fair Blog-City, I kept the content from MyRants, but shed the name, a name I've always disliked, one I chose when I thought I would be the only one who bothered to read this stuff. The good news is that it was a painless transition. All of the existing links for MyRants that are floating around out in the blogsophere, still work just fine and anyone heading to either URL, will land here. Thanks, Mayoress.
Our wooden bat summer baseball season is in full swing, so to speak. Even though we're 0-3 (it's how we finish, not how we start, that counts), we're having fun. It's a college league for players between the ages of 18 and 22(ish), so we're running into folks we haven't seen or played with in years. Last night we played the late game in a cool drizzle that felt more like April than July. The Youngest is catching every pitch of every inning, at least so far, and is having the opportunity to catch some pitchers who are playing in college (or junior college) as well as one who was taken in the Major League Baseball draft. He seems to be holding his own, although, like the other 18 year olds, he's struggling at the plate, trying to get that big heavy wooden bat around on the college kids' fastballs (especially last night in the rain). I'm not worried. He's a good hitter and he'll get used to it. It will make him a better hitter when he goes back to metal bats in the fall. I am enjoying not coaching and am keeping the scorebook for the man who is, which is always a pleasure.
I had a lovely, quiet Fourth of July weekend, although I have to admit that I wasn't feeling particularly patriotic, and skipped putting up a holiday post, knowing it would devolve into a rant about the lie of what this country stands for, revealed in the aftermath of Katrina. I skipped the fireworks, got a few things done at home, had a couple of particularly nice evenings out for fun with friends, and on the holiday itself, I had a hyperactive cooking episode. Boneless pork loin chops, marinated in garlic, limejuice and honey (just a tad), pan seared with white corn on the cob, homemade coleslaw (not sweet), rice, and field peas with snaps. It was soooo good, although seeing it in print, I realize that I should have made some cornbread. I was home alone while I was cooking, something that doesn't happen often, but eventually The Youngest and his friends wandered in and the feast was consumed. It's kind of strange, after decades of having to produce large quantities of food frequently and at regular intervals, to be able to cook recreationally. I like it.
I came very close to going to New Orleans last weekend. I had Monday and Tuesday off from work and we had the holiday weekend off from baseball so it would have been a good time to sneak down there, but I just couldn't make it work. I am giving some thought to going this weekend but we'd have to be back for a game Sunday evening. The Youngest would like to go too (he had other plans this past weekend) but we'll just have to see. Next week might be better. It's summer in the south. Things slow down, or at least they should.
Peace, out, ya'll.
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