After the obligatory cooking shows, NASCAR threw me a surprise with a Saturday race, as if my calendar wasn't confused enough as it is. There went what feeble plans I might have had for the day. That's okay, the smoke is still so thick it isn't healthy to be up and moving all that much.
It really is much cooler...not cool, mind you, but certainly better. Even without any other indicators, I can tell the nights have become chill...the cats are back on the bed. They disappeared during the hottest spell, and that was just as well. Celeste has resumed her usual spot, but Ralph has a new routine. He waits until I'm just drifting off to join the group and comes up to pat my face. What?! "I just wanted to let you know I'm here." "Okay, now lie down and go to sleep." "I can't. I want you to make a cat cave." Pat, pat, pat. Okay, so I make a cat cave. "That's a good one, but I'm not sleepy yet," and he goes to check on Celeste and Michael. Pat, pat, pat. "I'm ready now. Please make a cave." I tent the sheet and he crawls in. By the time he starts snoring, I'm wide awake. I love him, but sometimes he's a pain in the patoot.
The virus sure has changed horse racing. The Big Three are completely out of order, and the Preakness won't run until October third. If he runs again, my nickel will be on Authentic. He did well by me in the Derby.
Since NASCAR ran yesterday, I have no excuses for today. Might as well get to it.
Stay safe. Be well.
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