I’ve been in my hometown for a couple days helping my mom with some stuff. All day yesterday we were working pretty hard, getting things done, and by 4:00 in the afternoon, we were both pretty tired. By 6:00 I was laying on the sofa mindlessly surfing through the TV channels.

We watched part of a movie, then Mom went to bed. I watched a couple of TV shows, and just generally went completely brain dead all by myself in the den. I wasn’t ready to sleep yet, but just wanted to lay there doing nothing. By 10:30 p.m., I was barely conscious, blurry-eyed, and just a vegetable. Then at 11:00, I realized I hadn’t written a blog post for today. Oh crap!

I hopped up fast and made my way to my mom’s office. Since she was already in bed, all the lights through the house were off (except in the den where I had been watching TV), so I had to slowly feel my way down the hall.

I know my own home well enough to navigate blind from one end to the other without needing to feel about me. But my mom’s house is not so perfectly well known to me. (I didn’t grow up in this house.) I know the general lay out, but the details aren’t ingrained in my mind.

I made my way to her office and went in. First thing I did was stub my toe on that chair right in front of the door. In the office I flipped the light switch on the wall — no light came on. (I think it just turned on the ceiling fan.) Then I had to think about where the lamps were in the room.

I stepped forward to reach the nearest lamp, and I tripped over that chair again. Dammit, I had just kicked it, you’d think I would remember it was there.

I found the lamp and worked my fingers up the neck to find the switch. Click, the room lit up. Thank goodness. I walked around the desk and sat down at her computer.

And this is the post you get for all that effort. Sorry that it sucks.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

We were on our way to a restaurant for dinner. While stopped at a traffic light, I noticed a couple of guys at the gas station on the right corner of the intersection. They were standing at the front of their black SUV talking, and one of them pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and dumped it on the hood of their truck. They continued talking while the one counted out the bills.

The light ahead turned green and we pulled away. We went to the restaurant and had a pleasant meal. On our way back home, almost an hour later, on the completely opposite side of town, we stopped at another red light. I glanced over beside me in the left lane and saw those same two guys from the gas station in their truck beside us. This light turned green and we pulled away. Before we reached the next light, they had turned off in another direction.

What are the odds of that coincidence? I notice two guys I had never seen before, just minding their own business at a random intersection, happen to wind up beside me again an hour later at a different intersection in a different part of town.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Our family played some Memory with Bob the Builder cards this weekend, and both Calfgrits showed they have solid memories. (Memory: lay cards face down, turn over two at a time, see if you get a match.) I was really surprised at how well both of them did.

Calfgrit7 just totally ruled this game. We had 36 cards laid out, and he was remembering matches left and right. And Calfgrit3 remembered cards he saw when he was paying attention, but he often was distracted or trying to get attention by acting silly.

Cowgrit and I were barely getting any matches because CG7 just didn’t make a mistake. Where we might be off by one card, CG7 remembered precisely where each card he had seen was in the 6×6 rows. Now, in my and Cowgrit’s defense, CG3’s antics were very distracting — he was trying to distract us, to get attention.

But even without the distraction, CG7 would have won that game. He and I played a game just before the big family game, and we tied 9 matches to 9 matches. But in the family game, it wasn’t even close — he had about 10 matches, and the rest of us put together had about 8.

I’ve got to play this game with him some more. I want to pay closer attention to him, and the game. I also want to know if all kids are naturally good at this kind of game, or if he really is that damn good.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Brogrit’s comment, in a previous post, about me having a cloak and dagger made me think about what kind of weapons I own. I have a strange collection that really isn’t interesting at all other than for its odd variety. All of my weapons are currently stored away in my attic, and I don’t even have any ammunition for the guns.

• 12 gauge sawed off shotgun — a cheap single-shot firearm I bought way back first for curiosity to see its shot pattern for research I was doing, and second for home (read: bachelor apartment) protection.

• .30-something caliber rolling block rifle — an old (maybe very old) gun my step-dad gave me five or so years ago; I’ve never shot it, but I like it for its vintageness.

• .44 caliber ball-and-cap revolver — a replica (fully functional) 1861 Colt-style pistol that I built myself from a kit.

• 12-inch dagger — a match to the next item. . .

• 3-foot double-edged sword — a Spanish-style blade given to me as a Christmas gift over 20 years ago.

You see, a strange assortment of weapons. My step-dad had a large collection of various hunting rifles, from a black-powder rifle to shotguns to high-powered, scoped rifles. My dad has a good number of handguns and a couple of long guns. For having grown up in a family of gun owners, my collection is pretty pathetic.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com