Plenty of random things going on in my head, here they are in no particular order...enjoy!
*Okay, so today I had to mail something. I found a postage stamp that smacked of Christmas (the gingerbread man was a dead give-away) but I had no idea if the 44-cent stamp was anywhere near what it actually costs to mail something these days.
I put two stamps on, and inwardly cursed the U.S. postal system. These guys have to have their days numbered if a college-educated adult cannot remember what it costs to send a letter.
*Tonight was week two of practice for my six-year-old and my four-year-old's soccer teams, the Green Ghosts (formerly "the Green Fire") and the Bullfrogs, respectively. I coach the under-four Bullfrogs, which should be re-named "the cats" since running a practice feels a whole lot like herding them.
But I'm the one with real problems. You know that I'm either getting old or way out of shape or some terrible combination of both when I'm sore the morning after a four-year-old soccer practice. Pitiful.
*Tonight, in an odd corner of the universe known to some as the National Invitational (basketball) Tournament, two light-blue-shod teams collide with Rams as mascot.
UNC plays Rhode Island for the chance to advance to the NIT final. I think Carolina has finally figured out that they actually want to win, so I'll pick them tonight to advance to the championship game. But redemption only truly happens if they win the NIT and Dook loses to West Virginia.
*Speaking of the real tournament, I thought Kentucky was going to sail along. But it's anyone's tournament to win now--which, alas, includes a very not-great Dook team.
I'll pick WVU to win it all, and encourage the Morgantown police to buckle down for a moonshine-laden frenzy in the aftermath...WVU students are somewhat famous for being rather ill-mannered in the wake of important victories.
*Sunday we were visiting the Chapel Hill Bible Church and Nat Stine, the music director, encouraged us to consider the important role of the crowds during Holy Week. Palm Sunday, they worship. Good Friday, they shout for Jesus' death.
In one instance, the people rightfully worship the king of Glory. In another, they shout for the Innocent One to be condemned--they betray everything. I find myself uncomfortably familiar with both those voices.
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