My dad came to visit last night and he brought gifts. Antique gifts. Yay!
He is clearing out his apartment to live (as he calls it) a Spartan existence. He has been talking about moving down to Cowtown for some time now, as his two sons are here, as well as his rapidly-changing, ever-interesting grandkids. This could be the preparation for the big move. Crikey.
The master's swim team practices are going just fine, thank you very much for asking. The coach (Jennifer, but not Jenn) has us on a pretty steep milage curve. On Monday we did over 2000 metres. I'm truly loving it. I forgot how good it feels to go to bed with sore shoulders and arms. I also love to see my shadow on the bottom of the pool, long and stretched out, as I glide away from a well-executed flip turn.
When the coach asked me if I wanted to 'compete', I felt like Fred Flintstone in his compulsive gambler sketch when someone asked him if he wanted to 'bet'. That wasn't the original plan, but I'll just have to see if my competitive spirit gets the best of me. I already find myself racing other lanemates in practice.