Our team was only a half-game out of third place. Also-ran doesn't count. We played the second place team today and they were awful, but it doesn't help. My scores were 124, 129, 144.

At the luncheon afterwards, Rich was holding the camera to catch the cancer codger getting his high score award. However, he was caught flat-footed when I got most improved (7 pins) and didn't take my picture.

Lots of calls. The realtor wants to see me tomorrow. Nick called to chat with Rich. He still wants to become a base cop, but so far he's had no luck. In a paroxysm of wishful thinking, he insists it won't snow in Cheyenne this winter.

The third call was from Mark to see what the plans were, and could he have us to dinner. He told a little about their camping trip last weekend. I thought Monica was fairly bright, but it seems to have taken her some time to realize that if you take the World's Cutest Toddler camping, she'll get dirty. Once she relaxed about that, mother and child both had a great time. They were at Calaveras Big Trees, so I told Mark my world's best small world story.

Apparently I missed a Big Brother episode between Wednesday's two hour one and Saturday's. Oh, well. This is a car-wreck show (and a lot better than the first one, even so) but I can't take my eyes off it.

More joys of parenthood.

I'm reading an anthology of dystopias, and the first little story is by Paul Erlich. (How do I know it's a dystopia? Ted Kennedy was president!) The environmentalists are wrong, but Erlich has never admitted any error. If the data don't back him up, it's just because it'll be worse later. Junk science at its worst.

Joanne Jacobs talks about keeping a file on pre-criminals. This is wrong, of course, but on the other hand, if I were the girlfriend of the third-generation Weaver male, I'd run screaming, and I think they should keep an eye on him!