I took Ernie Pook on his first outdoor run today. We had fun.
The ribs seem to be well enough to trot. Maybe it was the rock plate in the 110s that was attracting trouble. But Ernie Pook kept me upright and did fine, other than a little nervousness about the muddy course, given his showroom-new looks. If only he knew.
He was unimpressed by the naked lady. I suppose that’s because he comes from San Luis Obispo, land of much debauchery. But he liked the ocean, except for the water and wet sand and mossy stuff and the way Mo watches “Ocean’s Eleven” constantly and insists it has nothing to do with George Clooney and Brad Pitt and Matt Damon all appearing in the same movie.
A good time was had by all. We bonded with a co-worker’s dog and barely missed running into Fabian. Dodged some mud, kept the hr up, ran sub-13s (yay!), saw a lot of nice people and basked in the 89 percent humidity. A good day to be a citizen of the world.
Now if only we could find Fabian …