It’s always dis­ap­point­ing to first learn that weath­er will be nice and cool in three days, and then find out that the ini­tial pre­dic­tion was wrong the day before. It was sup­posed to be in the low 20’s tomor­row, but now it’s slat­ed to be in the high 20’s. Aaron has a tee-off time set up for us tomor­row, but unless we can find a third par­ty with a car, I won’t be able to go. Aaron stops work­ing at the course in a week, so this will most like­ly be the last chance of the sea­son to get out on the course, which is a pity since I got my clubs resized last year.

Trolley is com­ing down this week­end, as he has three days off from his job at the LCBO. I’ll be look­ing for­ward to drink­ing, watch­ing some Mr. Show, and gen­er­al­ly just hang­ing out.

Tom is plan­ning a camp­ing trip some­time in September, and unless I lose a limb, I’m going to go. Actually, the loss of a limb may be com­plete­ly irrel­e­vant. I love camp­ing but I hate the sum­mer, so any oppor­tu­ni­ty to be out­doors when the weath­er is cool is prime.

Christine has a writ­ing project up, which I’ll glad­ly be par­tak­ing in soon. I always enjoy the chance to write cre­ative­ly in a non-com­pet­i­tive envi­ron­ment. What, exact­ly, has made the buf­fa­lo so bit­ter is anoth­er sto­ry.