It was "casual night" at this week's short track race.
Which was excellent. We had just come back from a weekend camping trip and some camp food was not sitting well with me. After my second urgent trip to the bathroom that day, I had begun to worry about even racing. So the invitation to dress in "casual" attire for the race was a salvation. Or excuse. I could dress in my loudest Hawaiian shirt and just toodle around the course. Yay.
It was scorching hot, too.
But it was a fun time-- lots of noise, cat-calls, cheers and jeers.
Last Wombat in Mecca - I guess I wasn’t listening to Steve Miller’s band in 1969 when I was fourteen…otherwise I would have heard of the above-mentioned song! The lyrics are juic...
1 week ago