Really. I do. I don't know if that makes me a bad American, or a bad world citizen, or a bad person in general. But I dread the Olympics. For one thing, it takes a perfectly good television station and converts it into what is basically another ESPN. And not even a normal ESPN, but one that only carries sports no one cares about. Have you ever noticed that we go years without any pressing need to watch people on our television swimming endless laps, or paddling canoes, or running around a track, and then suddenly that's all there is to watch?
That said, I dig the opening ceremonies. What's not to love about a long line of Chinese women hopping up and down in white tennis costumes with no apparent point to all the hopping? And why are the Americans wearing old man driving hats and sailor suits? And the French team were all in Fedoras- were they out of berets? And where the heck is Tuvalu? Do the countries who only send six people feel silly? I love the pointless pageantry. That is good television. Almost as good as Bob Murray... Unfortunately tomorrow it will be over, and I'll be expected to watch freakishly flat chested women grunt and smack at volleyballs. I can hardly wait.
In the meantime, I am birthday shopping for myself. I want an iron. It turns out that I don't dislike ironing after all- just my old, crappy iron. I want a big, heavy, serious iron. Nothing, after all, says "Happy Birthday!" quite like a good appliance.
Today we visited the good old county fair. I am afraid if entries continue to drop at the rate they have been the last few years there won't be a fair for much longer. Linda Payne entered a beautiful picture of Ruthie that she took when we had our Styler family pictures taken. It was fun to see her up there on the wall. I think she felt quite like a celebrity. Zane took Ruthie for her birthday date (we are running super late with those this year) so Meredith, Isaac, and I ate at the fair before coming home. Mer and Isaac had scones with honey and then Isaac discovered the portable hand washing stations. He loved them. He actually came and rubbed his hand in a drip of honey on the table on purpose at one point and said, "Oh, no. I guess I better wash my hands four more times." I don't know what the final hand washing count was, but I'm guessing his hands were cleaner than they've been in a good long while.
Well, I'm tired. We went out to dinner with Zane's parents, and I ate too much, and I'm tired. It's a good feeling, really. Long fun day, and nothing to wake up early for tomorrow. Life's pretty good. Even with the Olympics...
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