Pancake Day SundayAs per ritual, the girls and Mrs. Pi awoke to the smell of bacon, sausage, and pancakes - chocolate chips in half - and leftovers for schoolday breakfasts for the girlies. Pork fat rules!
Knocked out some sweating pipes in the basement so it looks like a few walls, a toilet, and the sink will be going in in the next two weekends. With a functional bathroom in the downstairs, it'll get used more and I'll then I 'll just have to keep going with the club room little by little. My next door neighbor even suggested the location for the big screen TV, which I liked, until he said, "You know, you could put a projection screen here instead..." which would've been a great way to see the Ravens beat up on the Bucs (Woo Hoo!). Instead, saw most of the game with the brother and his girlfriend and managed to have a good time and fit in a little picking and strumming there (there's a guitar in just about every room) to boot.
After a pretty productive and positive day, suffered through the first softball double-header - lost both, second one by 15 runs (ouch!- after going 15-1 and league champs in the summer season) - as a spectator/base coach/cheerleader. Had to break the news about my bum knee pretty much ending my playing days and that was probably part of the downer. There are seven of us who have been together since we joined the league four seasons ago so it's going to be tough next spring if I'm not able to go. Heck - it was rough just watching last night! I'm hoping that maybe it'll get better with some rest and rehab but the doc's not optimistic and recommends that I not do any running and jumping at all but I'm inclined to think that, if I can even go at half speed, I might give it a go. Mrs. Pi basically put it to me in the way that made the most sense: if I'm going need a knee replacement one day anyway, what's the difference between getting it when I'm 47 and when I'm 51?
If I lay really low I might be able to stretch it for ten years but I love being out on the field with the guys; the high fives, the sweat and the dirt, the sound that a .47 core ball makes coming off a composite, double-walled bat in the cool night air, the sunflower seeds, the baseball talk (man, do I love baseball talk), the after game rendevous at Bull on the Beach. If I could squeeze out even just one more summer, I think that I'd be willing to accept whatever comes after that. Just one more good run with the guys.