This past Saturday, I headed up to the Niagara Falls Curling Club for a night of curling. I was fortunate enough to be able to go with three groups of friends - from grade/high school, college and work.
Jeff & John trying to sweep a stone into the house.
Additional photos are viewable in my photo gallery.
I just returned from a quick 5 mile run. I squeezed it in before my soccer game tonight. As I was sitting on the porch stretching, a lady rides up to the house on her bike. She doesn’t look to be of the highest class, but is polite and asks if my landlord is home by her name. I indicate to her that I just got home myself, so I wasn’t sure.
The lady rings the doorbell, but my landlord apparently is not home. Next she proceeds to talk to me. And stutter a little bit, and have the shakes. She asks if I’m a runner. I tell her yes, that I just returned from a run. She says “No, are you a renter?” (or so I think), and so I tell her I live on the third floor - to which she says “No, are you a runner?” I feel as if my first answer should have sufficed, but answer her again - “yes, I just ran a half marathon the weekend before last”. She asks how I did. Feeling pretty proud of it, I tell her twelth place in my age division. She responds by telling me she’s a runner too. She’s got a runner’s build, so I beleive her. But she didn’t stop by just telling me she was a runner, she also tells me “ah, twelth, I finished second in my last race”.
Obviously an inferior runner, I quiet down and let her talk some more. Next she pulls out two 5K medals - one from the Run for Rover and one for the Ronald McDonald House 5K. She also proceeds to pull out a printout for an upcoming 5K, one whose name I cannot remember. And of course she’s looking for sponsors. Having already indicated I was a runner and thinking she knows my landlord, I’m stuck.
Wanting to end dealing with her, I tell her I’ll see what I have upstairs & be right back. I had $10 in my wallet, so I give it to her. She’s already got my first name and the address of the apartment in a little notebook of hers & wants me to fill in my last name & the amount I’m donating. At first I tell her she can just have the money & there’s no need to know who I am, but she insists, so I fill out the info. She thanks me and asks me to tell my landlord she stopped by and that she thought my landlord was such a nice lady when she met her - last week!
I don’t know what’s up with this lady. She could be legit, but she could also be getting high on my $10 right now…
Which brings me to something I’ve been meaning to gripe about for a while - common courtesy from bums when I run. As I run around the city of Buffalo, I see a fair amount of them. I’d like to think that it’s very obvious I’m running at a good clip (and thus won’t stop), am listening to music (and thus can’t hear you), and probably don’t a wallet on me (and thus won’t have money for them, although I often keep a $5 under the sole of one sneaker.) This past Sunday was the second time this summer a bum has tried to ask me for money while I was running. They’re not going to get money from me when I’m not running, I don’t know why they think they’ll be able to stop me during a run and get it then.
I do have to commend one bum though. He was in his wheel chair outside of Niagara Square juggling golf balls very high in the air. Right as I ran behind him, he tossed one high and between me and his wheelchair. It surprised me a little, bounced close to me, and came right back to him. He smiled at me as came around his side, showing me he knew exactly what he was doing when he tossed the ball. I smiled back - that there was one crack addict I would have happily given a couple bucks to if I’d had some one me.
I have a bunch of grey hairs on the sides of my head. Normally when I cut my hair, these grey ones are lost in the plethora of non-grey ones and therefore hard to see. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen either of the last two times - now the grey ones still show even right after a haircut…
I’m not fighting it though - if more go grey or they decide to retreat and/or disappear, I’m going to let them do it.
While I typically head back home to Angola to enjoy the outdoors, put the boat in the water or do some work at my parent’s house, this weekend I stayed in the Buffalo area and had plenty of things to do. (more…)