Groupies. . .

We are nearer than before, but still a distance away from a possible move.  We've done a couple of building-supply trips to suss out the costs of stuff, and the styles with which we might decorate a new home.  The official score: wallpaper - 0, sienna - 1.  My lady is not a fan of the wallpaper.  To be fair, the good stuff is so damned expensive, I'm not sure I've got much fight in me anyway.

Peja and I did our first milkshake walk of the year.  There's a reid's dairy about 5 blocks away, and when she was little, if I really needed her to nap, I'd make her walk there and back (the promise of a chocolate milkshake puts some hustle in little legs) and then she'd drop.  It was too cold to drink it on the way back, so I walked it home and divided it to share with lunch.

Again, with the Weezer business, I found this essay Rivers Cuomo wrote.  I feel very akin to a lot of what he says.  Alright, not the parts about the playboy mansion. . .  Or the groupies. . .  Uh. . .  Well, at least that might get you to read it.

Tomorrow is practice #2 with my junior boys team.  There's a work-to-rule thing being threatened by the teachers, which would shut us down pretty soon, but for now I'm super jazzed about the club and I'm very pleased to have officially begun my coaching career.