Back in Paradise

All is well again. Or, rather, all is as it was before Lucerne. I have recovered from what I now believe to be swine flu. (A few of the girls found out that they had swineflu, so perhaps we had the same thing and I just got better faster thanks to my indestructible immune system.) The Grumbler is running poorly. Mr. Box, lonely as he was while I was away, has befriended a family of fleas. The kitchen sink is still broken and needs my attention. Slowcooker beans again for dinner. Livin the dream? Indeed. Tonight we have a special recipe, which is the following:

1c navy beans, rinsed and looked over
1c chicken broth
1 can Coors (vented)
2 carrots, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
10 oz white button mushrooms
1/2 tsp of poultry seasoning mix
HONEY
salt and pepper

Delicious. Even Meat Duck, with a palate so discerning that he now weighs 110 lbs, approves.

I am skinny too now though: a recent-memory record of 197 on the scale post-workout this morning. It is now hot, and I sweat out most the fluid from my eyeballs. We were spoiled by rain earlier in the summer, and now we are paying for it. We finish our workouts with our fingers pruned from sweat, and the skin rips off a little bit and stick to your oar. Sweet! We couldn't be wetter if we were swimming in the piss-warm water beneath our hull. The idea of swimming would be appealing if the water weren't cloudy from all the overgrowth caused by too much fecal coliform. It feels better to row than to sit, because the convection of moving air is the only thing that cools us off. During our workout this morning, Brett turned very very pink and couldn't speak that well. I think he almost died.

Meanwhile, Haley the dog is back at the AQ. She is "skittish," which means that she is a "wimpdog" (FT's words) except if you have food, in which case she will try to befriend you. She has discovered Mr. Box's food dish. They don't get along very well.

The common room is full of U23 guys who are preparing to ship out for their races tomorrow. They are a good bunch, but six dudes in a room has a tendency to get smelly. Did I mention that we sweat a bit these days? They do too. The common room is air-conditioned, but poorly ventilated (the better keep the cold in). I spend most of my time praying some little old churchlady doesn't stumble in there by mistake.

Inman's truck (almost a Grumbler) had a faulty tire last night, so one of the tires in the back of the Grumbs finally came in handy. Good thing I have them all there. The lugnuts on his wheel were metric (?!) or perhaps very corroded standard, which made getting them off an adventure. The best part of The Dream is that it is full of adventures like this. Four broken tools and 14 hours later, he was back on the road.

Enough stories for now. There will be more tomorrow, exciting as things here are. WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?! Another training session? Some piece of yardwork? A trip to the grocery store fraught with misfortune? The possibilities are endless. You'll have to stay tuned...