Played nine holes at Theodore Wirth with second-timer JP [left] and his pal Bill [right]. JP, one of those annoying good-at-all-sports types, played remarkably well, as did Bill, who is in possession of a beautifully smooth, well-oiled swing. As may come as a surprise to my golf-mates, I played well, by my standards. By this I mean that I failed to contact my ball during only, say, ten percent of my swings, and shot a rare par on one or two holes.

I travelled to Bloomington for a finger-painting appointment with Kinzie and Eden. They actually did most of the painting, and I took photographs. M&M and TJ and Al and I spent the 96-degree day basking in the conditioned air of their house, drinking root beer, watching television, keeping an eye on Mark's brisket, and reading books with the girls. They're in that phase during which they love literature, and if given the chance, will sit through recitations of the same volume several times in a row. Even when a willing reader is unavailable, they will often stand side-by-side, each with their own book, and read aloud in a unique patois that emphasizes form over content. It should be noted that TJ is able to make a remarkable impression of this phenomenon.













After the fingerpainting exercise, the girls were in need of a refreshing, if unwanted, shower, administered with the hose by their mom.