River Trail

 Ron, Elaine, Jayme, Kayla, and I walked about 1.25 miles in 1:08:42 on the River Trail from Cook's Landing late this morning. There was a lot of standing around involved. I was teased greatly about my new-to-me, five-year-old rocket-like cop car.

QUESTION OF THE DAY...What does anyone think about this paragraph from early in the final of 33 chapters in A Different Closet? There were a few days like this each August. Cool wind from the northwest had blown away the dankness, and high clouds diffused into a translucent sheet that spread over the sky to leave a breezy and dry, bright white afternoon. It served as an advertisement for fall. These sorts of days reminded Keith of football, even now, as he walked through waves of roaring cheer to a microphone set between him and the last crowd he would address. Thousands of people sat or stood on a panorama of shiny grass, which opened like an Asian fan above him and rose to the Art Museum a quarter of a mile away. Still, St. Louis was a baseball town, and he could see it—Cardinal jerseys and shirts and caps were everywhere—and smell it in the air filled with an aroma of charcoal and charred meat and streaked by wafts of smoke.