I’ve packed my little bag and said goodbye to Barb. As soon as I can come up with Kerri Walsh’s phone number I’m going to call her and have her come get me. We’ll tell people I’m her father (okay, her grandfather). I’ll be the one crouched by the net, ready to towel off my Goddess of Beach Volleyball.
Seriously, this is the only sport worth waiting in line for. I’d like to meet the person who came up with the idea of sponsoring the back of her bikini bottom. [Photo: Kerri (6’3″) hugging her teammate Misty May-Treanor (5’10”)]
Last December’s ice storm destroyed a lot of tree. Parts of our property have looked like an artillery range for the last six months. Today a crew of hard-working lads are cutting down the fatally wounded. The price tag seemed a little high at first glance, but after seeing the guys 30 feet up with a chain saw roaring in one hand, it seems about right. I’m proud to say that I gave NO thought to attempting this project on my own.
