Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo collected his first official sunburn of the season this gergous day.  (Robbo’s doctor has been fussing at him recently about Vitamin D deficiency.  A few more outings per month like today’s and that problem ought to rectify itself.)

First, he spent the morning bench coaching the younger Misses Port Swillers’ softball team to a 12-7 victory. (They now stand at 8-1 on the season).  Among other things, he was delighted to discover that the youngest gel has the apparent super power ability to become two-dimensional at will, this being the only explanation of how she managed to slide under a tag at home plate.  I’d swear when she pancaked, she went absolutely flat.

Next, he spent the afternoon puttering about in the yard, mowing, trimming, weeding and (just to mix things up a bit), giving the front door portico its yearly scrubbing.

We are paying the wages for our sinful slothiness in not having got round to cleaning out the gutters last fall, insofar as one of the ones on the front of the port swiller mansion, chock full of dead leaves, mulch and new maple saplings, recently wrenched itself away from the fascia board and started bowing out ominously.  Yesterday, we finally got them cleaned.  Today, we had a local handyman out to re-attach the bowmeister.  As I stood about jawing with him, I discovered that he is a licensed bow-hunter and helps the county with keeping the local deer population within something approaching reasonable limits.  When I mentioned that I used to hunt deer myself in my  misspent yoot and that venison sausage was amongst my very favorite foods, he replied that he makes his own (among other products) all the time and would I like to have some of it?

This looks like the beginning of a bee-u-tiful friendship.

So now it’s just a matter of waiting for five o’clock to roll around.  As a treat for a productive day’s work, I hied me to the butcher’s counter at the local Gourmet Giant (pronounced “GER-may GEEE-aunt”) and nabbed one of their extra thick ribeyes.  Yum.  After dins, it’ll probably be Buckaroo Banzai.  The Nats are playing tonight, but I feel I need a break from watching them strand so many base-runners.  Not good for ol’ Robbo’s ulcer.