The Running of the Bulls is scary fun, but there is one challenge that is beyond terrifying. Participants sit on the ground in front of a door that will be opened to admit a charging bull into the ring. That’s what it was like at my patio door at 8 am this morning.
In the comments, Marc mentioned how Sparky might appreciate doggie ice cream to help him handle the hot weather. That reminded me of the Fatima dogs of Portugal.
These dogs are fine. The Sanctuary of Fatima does not leave dead dogs in the square.
During the first week of June, we took the camper to Salt Fork State Park for a few days. There is something odd about the park, and it had nothing to do with the Summer Sasquatch trail run held that weekend. Apparently marketing Bigfoot sightings is a priority at Salt Fork State Park.
Spaniards are lovely people, but they think differently. It didn’t take much persuasion to get me to jump in the ring. I’m a “when in Rome” kind of guy.
Sparky and I aren’t pleased with the weather situation. Everything that looks like snow, is slick ice. Anything that looks greenish, is grass sticking out of slick ice. It’s worse than walking on a glacier.
I’ve been scanning and organizing old photos.
This is my favorite photo of my mom. Since her birthday was two days ago, she would have been 96, I thought I’d post it.
I’ve been scanning and organizing old photos.
A year after I started at Caterpillar, management sent me to a week-long SLAM training course in Chicago. Turns out that a random bunch of engineers can be a lot of fun.
Mary and I visited the Notre Dame cathedral in 1991, back when you could still do fun stuff like hang from the clapper of a giant bell.
Our tour guide was impressive. He switched from English to German to French so smoothly, often in the same sentence, that everyone could follow what he was saying without having to repeat himself.
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