The 43

The bugs are out tonight. We don't get many mosquitos here in Utah, but we do get what look like giant mosquitos but are some kind of green flying thing. They don't bite, but they are attracted to the light of my laptop and generally get in the way. This stretch of summer started with Father's Day. Ben and I picked up Breakfast Baconators and found a park to eat our breakfast at before he went to work (he's lifeguarding this summer). Michael and I golfed in the afternoon on the par-3 at Mick Riley. The wind was crazy, and Michael hadn't golfed in years. I finished with a 43 and he had a 54. Lori made fajitas for dinner. The last three days of work have been uneventful. I'm just about caught up on everything before the company retreat and my subsequent paid leave. I wrote my usual summer solstice post last night, and today I grilled ribs for dinner. The heat returns tomorrow, and I plan to work as much as I can by the pool the next two days.

My annual tradition that began 15 years ago continues today -- I'm writing from the hillside in Donner Park, waiting for the sunset, reflecting on the year. But about 30 yards in front of where I put my blanket down, the sprinklers turned on, and I'm wondering if a row of sprinklers exactly where I'm sitting is next. The sprinklers might be a good metaphor for 2022. There's a sense of uneasiness in front of what lies beyond. I pondered last year how the pandemic and political chaos had distorted time, and unfortunately, that didn't let up. I also thought about how Lori and I were in the homestretch of parenting kids. Well, in a blink of an eye, another year ticked off. So much excitement looms. Michael starts college in August, and Ben is evolving into maybe a Division I swimmer. My job turn a turn into everything I wanted from the position. As a family, we seem less stressed -- not that we were overwhelmed before, but at a nice, acceptable degree of peace.  But I

Oops! The past nine days have seen unusual heat interrupted by rain. I've worked, gone for runs and attended two swim meets for Ben. And just like that about 20 percent of summer is complete. But the best is yet to come. My six-week paid sabbatical is coming up, and my brain is swirling with what I want to do with the time. Airfare and gas is so expensive that a bunch of travel is probably out. We are taking Ben to a swim meet in Grand Junction, then going to Colorado for my sister's wedding. There's another meet in California that we're starting to conclude that we aren't traveling, too -- it will cost so much, and Ben isn't swimming that great this summer (he always struggles with long-course season). I would love to find another adventure, but both boys want to work, and even a trip to Chicago won't work. Maybe we'll do something small.  I mostly don't want to let the Joe-battical go to waste. Besides traveling, here's what I may do: Relive an

We have good friends who are in Korea until the end of the month, and we are house-sitting and taking care of their dogs while they're gone. They also have an in-ground pool, and today, for four hours, I worked from their shady patio, jumping in the pool and subsequently lounging on a giant frog float a in between longer spurts of work. This is one of the reasons I love working remotely during the summer. I'm not stuck inside an office as the season passes me by. I can get work done while still thoroughly enjoying summer. The last two days have been warm, and the weekend will be even hotter. I didn't run this morning -- my day was full of meetings and I couldn't quite fit it in beforehand. Only one meeting was at the pool, which I concluded by jumping into the slightly chilled water on Zoom. I hope they didn't think I was rubbing my cool work locale in too much ... Lori also worked by the pool for those four hours and I think was equally inspired. We picked up Cupbo

I generally face two obstacles to writing my summer posts on a daily basis: I either am too tired or work into the evening and am creatively spent. Tonight, I worked into the evening but have some energy to blog. Over the weekend, I really didn't have much of an excuse ... In my defense, I was spent on Saturday, then worked in the front yard all day Sunday. And a couple writing assignments for work fried my brain.  Otherwise, the past five days have been mostly uneventful. I ran a few days and tried doing a weight workout but twinged my hip. I'm convinced this workout, which I discovered about five years ago on Men's Health's Facebook feed, is meant for younger men. Maybe I'll find some other workout for the next few weeks before my work retreat. At least the running has felt good and has fit into the "I might be taking my shirt off in front of coworkers" wellness plan.  The heat is coming -- starting tomorrow, temperatures will climb into the 90s. I'm

This short week has felt so weird. Today didn't seem like Thursday or even my third day of the week. Tomorrow is Friday already and I don't feel like I've accomplished much at work. The production probably isn't as bleak as I'm making it out to be. And I'm happy the weekend is almost here after the last one just ended. I woke up early today and went for a long run that felt great. I made breakfast and took my computer outside, where I worked for the next six hours or so. Again, not the best-quality or most efficient work, but a long swath nonetheless on a pleasant June day. I took Ben to swim practice and went to Beans and Brews to sit outside and work while sipping on a large frozen lemonade. Unfortunately, Verizon's mobile hotspot totally stopped working and I couldn't get any internet (I stopped logging in to coffee shops' WiFi). Not sure if Verizon was glitchy or suddenly a throng of users nearby were overwhelming any nearby towers, but I suddenl

Most years when I blog every day for summer, I start sometime in May. This year, I don't even know what happened to May. The last four months have been a whirlwind, sort of culminating with Michael's graduation from high school (I'll blog about that another day). I was planning to start the summer blogging on Ben's birthday, then after Michael graduated, then on Memorial Day weekend ... but it didn't happen until today, June 1. That's OK. By my count, my late-starting summer has 99 days. And those 99 promise to be unique. I'm taking six weeks off from work -- I get a paid monthlong sabbatical and am tacking on two weeks of PTO after it. We don't have any major trips planned but enough smaller ones that summer won't lack for adventure. I can lament how I haven't been writing these past four months, but rather than be pissed, I'm looking forward to the next three to write, write, and write some more. Summer 2022 might be the summer I catch up -