This is Pi Day : Bonus #038.1
Hey! Look under there!
I just made you say underwear.
I ran a half marathon this past weekend and in the minus-twenty, brutal weather, bone-numbing cold of it I was trudging along the icy route pondering my own sanity and wrestling with the possibility that I may have misjudged it’s very existence.
Of the four hundred racers, all manner of athletic prowess could be seen — as well as all manner of athletic gear. Tubes, toques, buffs, mitts, balaclavas, headbands, wraps, ski goggles, and more… anything to break through the cold. And it was so cold. One guy who passed me actually — no, really, had three-inch-long icicles dangling from his earlobes. And the race volunteers were dancing, jumping, and never-stop-moving as they reminded us that we runners were all actually a lot warmer than them. Sadly, they were probably right.
Afterwards, basking in the post race defrost, it was a brunch-driven debrief … sometimes literally, as more than one of us was wearing multiple pairs.
This is Pi Day #030
Welcome to winter. It’s officially that.
I was out running for the winter solstice, plodding through the icy streets of our city with about 200 other runners at midnight for the “longest night” run where one might have expected there to be more snow.
I certainly expected that we would have had more snow when I drew this comic, too. Instead, I’ve only been dreaming of getting out on my skis over the holiday season, with the Kid off for two weeks of Christmas break and me with a solid ten days away from the office.
But… no snow.
I guess I’ll just have to draw more comics.
This is Pi Day #013.a
Lettuce turnip the beet. It’s garden party time!
The first thing we “built” in our backyard upon moving into the house was a vegetable garden. I grew six potato plants and a small bunch of chives.
I could get all groovie-hippie-earth-dad here, but the reality is that I just like reminding myself that we wouldn’t completely starve if the food distribution network collapsed: we’d have at least a week’s worth of salad and enough berries to bake a pie or two… over the burning remains of society.
I also didn’t want to have one of those kids who says matter-o-factly that food comes from “the grocery store” when asked. I knew kids like that when I was a scout leader in a big city: Milk comes from a jug. Meat comes from a freezer. Veggies are in aisle one right by the door.
No, The Girl will get her hands dirty, even just a little bit.
And hopefully in the process her dad will learn to grow something besides a heckuva lotta weeds.