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A Day and a day. Done and done. - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
A Day and a day. Done and done.
It was kinda refreshing tuning out the social media machine for a whole day.  (Okay, I peeked when the NHL put out the protected lists for the expansion draft- late, as usual.)  I also saw a message from someone who didn't understand my aversion to the Paternal Promos. 

To be clear: I have no issues with, and am quite proud of, being a father. (I also got a call from Emily during the day which validated and celebrated that.) No, it's the day's focus, especially on the timelines and blogs, about having a father, or at least good memories of one. Some years, I've simply adopted a Ran-dad from someone else's post as the one I channel my good thoughts to. Sometimes, it's been the father of a friend who I remember from the wayback; other times, it's just a good man with a good kid. But this year, I made the best of ignoring these particular demons, and kept mostly to my word about staying away. 

Ebony had her Sunday morning bark park trip; I broke up the final sledgehammered chunks of bricks from the front planter; we watched the previous night's Doctor and Orphan Black; and I finished Graham Nash's memoir while listening to portions of the CSN(Y) box set which were timed to the final chapters of the book. (Fun fact from Wild Tales: while recording CSN in the mid-70s, Graham finished a late-night recording session, then went down to the beach to score drugs.  His dealer bet him $100 that he, the fancyass singer-songwriter, couldn't write "a song before you go." The resulting lyric became their biggest all-time single, and the scrap of paper he won the bet on is now in the Rock Hall.)  The day's early humidity yielded to late-day rain and a cooler night, even nicer now, which we spent outside for dinner.


First of five- just one court appearance, worked out in advance.  Only one brief client meeting, where we surmised (and by late afternoon had conclusively established) that the opposing party had fucked up its filing, rendering it meaningless and giving me nothing to do in response for at least the time being.  Unlike most Rochester days, when I seem unable to break free of its gravitational pull until past 3, I was back in my office here just past 2:30, and got in some cardio (and my first of the newer Sense8 episodes I'd planned for tomorrow) before coming home.  Tomorrow is court-free- my only one of those all week- but it begins with yet another run to Mercedesland, and will include at least one client meeting, processing the six orders that came in from Bankruptcy Court this afternoon, and getting ready for the six remaining appearances coming in this week's final three weekdays.

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