"I failed to make the chess team because of my height." - Woody Allen

There's gonna be some cleanup.

I had a moment of clarity this afternoon, one of those epiphanies that makes me wonder how I've survived this long in the unenlightened state.
A house at the corner of Sheffler and Warthen has been for sale for several months. Nice place, acreage, several out buildings and a decent size ranch house. We learned that an old widower lived there, but his kids have moved him into assisted living, cleaned out the place, and put it on the market.
Priced too high? Maybe that explains why it hasn't sold despite at least one change of realtors. This last week they added a smaller sign on top of the main For Sale sign that says, SHOP.
As we drove by it on the way into town this afternoon Pam made a comment about that addition and the lightbulb went on.
To a woman the word shop is a verb. To a man, and hopefully to prospective buyers, that's a noun.
OK, I'm probably the last male in the world to figure that out.

I got a new light fixture for Barnette that I'll install at some point in the next day or two. I put my multimeter on the wires and it's getting power, and the ground was good. Bad fixture or bad bulbs? I bought the former so we'll soon know.

One of the most powerful portions of the DNC was the brief speech by Khizr Khan, the father of the slain Muslim soldier. Trump gave his response today.
Could that guy (Trump) be any more clueless?? Does he have an ounce of empathy in him? And even if he doesn't, common sense should tell him to respond with even artificial sensitivity.
Good grief.

The chickens are not happy. They're used to me letting them out of their pen mid-morning to run the property all day, scratching up bugs, dusting in the dirt, and nibbling at whatever green thing strikes their fancy, including my rhubarb, Pam's tomato plants, and the free lilies I was given, all of which were denuded. Now, as soon as they see me they start to pace back and forth in front of the pen door in eager anticipation of....nothing. I feel like I'm a bad guy for restricting them to the pen. I made it big enough for a dozen chickens and we only have half that, so there's no animal cruelty involved.
I wish there was some way to explain it's for their own good. If I showed them the pile of feathers that was their sister?
I wondered if the sounds of the hawks that fly overhead would now send them scattering now. Nope.

I went to the H.S. track this afternoon and was reminded how different it is to run for pace. Turns out I don't have any. I do, however, have to do a better job of stretching my hamstrings, which are now tight. I'll go back a couple of times a week and try to be more conscientious about my pacing when I do my normal routes. My goal is a sub-30 5k, which should be within the range of possibility.

The church we've been attending leases what I'm told was once a funeral home on West 11th, the main E/W drag through Eugene. Several months ago the building was sold so the church has to move out. Tomorrow, instead of services we're to be there at 9 a.m. to help pack everything into rented and borrowed trailers and transport it to the new location. The church will now be meeting Sunday evenings at 6 p.m. in a nearby church that doesn't have an evening service. So, no service tomorrow.
But in the afternoon there's a potluck at the home of a family in the church. They have a pool.

I'm not a party person and especially not a pool part person. But I told Pam I feel like we should go. Helping to move is easy, but the afternoon gig is something that feels like obligation. A bunch of people we don't know, a pool we won't go in or particularly near - sounds like a rousing good time to me!