Dog days

Despite the title, this is not a post about the dog. He's still living his best life, as documented ad infinitum. This is a post about the rest of us. To wit:

Carey continues to work very hard for a job that doesn’t provide as much satisfaction of late. She has some proverbial irons in the fire, though, for a lateral move within the state that might have her practicing more fulfilling law without as much bureaucratic red tape. Here's hoping I didn't jinx it by putting it in writing. She deserves professional happiness. During our mini vacation at South Lake in July she injured her ribs and is still healing. Last weekend was her best yet as she got outside for the farmer's market, some weeding, and some stringing of lights on the back deck. She only wears this shirt on the weekends now and gets at least one compliment each Saturday.

Lincoln: Mountain biking once per week, minimum, with me, playing Xbox or watching YouTube the rest of the time. This weekend's sojourn was to Gurney Lane in Queensbury, which despite some very good marketing we did not find that fulfilling. A couple decent trails, but lots of rocks and not a lot of "flow," which is the elusive state of biking he now seeks. I'm working up to a big end-of-summer blowout trip to Windham Mountain Resort in the Catskills, where we can rent full suspension bikes and destroy their brakes on some downhill runs. It should also be noted that Monday he painstakingly ate the crust off all sides of a bagel.

Greta: Oddly happy to have a school assignment, annotating and writing short essays for AP World History. Almost finished with "The West Wing" on Netflix and the rest of the time reading or watching B-movies about kissing booths and young dancers down on their luck that Carey would love to watch with her but she has to work. That's not true -- she HATED both Kissing Booth movies. Not even sure she's seen the second one. She also likes to watch British people being critical about cooking, real estate, whatever. The state of being British qualifies you to be a curmudgeon, apparently.

Me: I saved the best for last. Yesterday I accepted a job offer to become the Director of Communications at the Public Employees Federation, New York's second-largest union with 52,000 members, many of whom, I should add, are those "true heroes" people like to create yard signs about -- nurses, hospital staff, corrections officers, etc. I start after Labor Day. Send the kids off for the start of their COVID education first. In other news, I painted our front door blue last weekend. Or, more specifically, spectral indigo. Something we can point to when the pandemic ends and say, "see, we used the time to improve our home."