Offshore...

Offshore...

I spent most of the day in my car today, driving #1 daughter to the train station in Windsor. As I write this she should be arriving in Montreal soon. She is looking forward to a week of visiting friends (and a music festival) before her intensive yoga teacher training class. I don't think I posted any thing about my experience with 2 other old guys as her yoga students this summer. We had a great time and I really appreciated a chance to experience that part of her life with her. Someday I'd like to take more yoga instruction. I have the feeling that I know just enough to be dangerous right now.

Are goodbyes are always bittersweet with one's children? Yes, I found a lump in my throat when I said the last farewell. I'm excited for her and proud of her, but I'll miss her dropping in with a leftover loaf of bread, or to steal a carrot out of my garden.

Last night L and some of her friends gave a demonstration on the courthouse lawn as part of First Friday. L had asked me to take some photos. My friends who saw me snapping photos told me they wondered if I had become a leacherous old man until they saw who was in the demo. Which echoed what some of the other students said they thought until introductions were (more or less) made. Anyhow, I thought a couple of the pictures deserved posting.

Warning - environmentalist rant ahead... (And no, S, I'm not going to lighten up.)

Somewhere on my drive today I saw a sign posted on a lawn advocating off-shore oil drilling. The whole idea makes my blood boil. Moments later I got stuck behind a Class A motor home pulling a Honda CRV with 2 bikes on top. You've seen the Class A things - they're essentially the size of a greyhound bus but usually only occupied by two people. This particular unit had Georgia plates on it.

There is something obscene about drilling for oil in the ocean floor while these kinds of vehicles are still on the road.

But I can never win this one. We will, despite the stupidity of it, foul the waters in our oceans from off-shore drilling, ruin the Artic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) and continue to wage wars over oil. All so we can continue to drive our class A homes across the country.

And of course I'm part of the problem. I drove carefully and eeked out 31mpg (probably 0.10x the rate of the guy in the Class A rig) but I still burned about 15 gallons of the stuff. Maybe the guy in the Class A home didn't see any other options either.

And in other news...

The bat was back the other night. I had my br door closed, but there was a small space open under the door so he could have slipped in underneath that. I don't see any other way in, and so it is under door or I have to accept the teleporting theory. I have a new theory of entry points involving the downstairs bathroom fan. I need to get some grating to cover up a vent entrance and give it some time to see if it works.