Lakeside 2008, Microblogging

The term microblogging is one with which I'm not familiar, but recently learned it means blogging about the minutiae of life even more than regular web logs (diaries)do--like "I just walked down the hall at work," or "I put $1.00 in the snack machine." Apparently, there are people who read microblogs. Story in Newsweek Although, I think you are limited to 140 characters. I'd not do well if that's a requirement.

So here's some minutiae instead of the heavy stuff of politics, retirement, left wing librarians, mortgage markets and travel. After all, I want to keep up with the trends even if I don't have Twitter.

Last night's dinner on our deck was baked pork chops, fresh beets, potato salad and my very own raspberry pie. With Cool Whip. All purchased either at the locally owned market, or the farmers' market in Lakeside.

After dinner we went dancing with strangers; great fun. There was sort of a hoe-down in front of the auditorium where everyone big and small, couples and singles, old and young danced easy square dance tunes you could do in a huge circle. Non-dancers could sit in folding chairs and watch. For one dance I was paired with a guy about 6'11" and we had a little toddler with us about 3 years old. Refreshments were giant cookies, watermelon and lemon-aid.

From there we went to the hotel lawn, moved a park bench and watched the sunset.

At home we watched Canadian public TV which is almost always a British series.

Today I wrote a letter and printed some of my Italian trip stuff for my aunt, however, it took 4 trips to the business district to get an envelope the right size and the right stamps (2 blocks).

While I was at the store that didn't have the right size envelope, I found the cutest blogging note books, so I went back and bought them after I mailed the envelope. Spiral bound, 100 sheets. Perfect.

My neighbor's son rented a scooter over on the islands and lost a flip flop. Then the scooter skidded and he put his bare foot down. Ouch. Skin gone on the bottom of his foot. This will need lots of healing, and no swimming in the lake.

I went to art class today. Sort of discouraging. Everyone always improves but me. I kid you not. I was a pretty good little artist even by age 12, so on Monday I'm usually the best in the class. By mid-week, I'm still 12, and everyone else has moved on. I really worked hard (she tells me I need to slow down and see negative spaces) on drawing my left hand. Problem was, when I finished, I realized I'd drawn 6 fingers--but I sure had great negative spaces.

My husband's gone sailing twice today, maybe three times.