Blah

Sigh. I'm supposed to be blogging--Sarah said! But the truth is, my heart isn't in it anymore. John C. said my website was boring, and I guess he's right. Who cares that I attached life vest boxes to airplane seats all day, or that my friends Ann and Cheryl came out to the farm after work, and visited while Gates trimmed our horses' feet? Mel said our timing couldn't have been better, because 30 minutes earlier the rainwater was pouring through the yard so fast, that it cut a deep rut in the gravel. Anyway, Father's Day (yesterday) was nice. We gathered at my dad's (the farm) for a hamburger/hotdog cookout. I gave my dad some framed photos of my mom and my brother Henry, which everyone liked. I really miss them both. Sigh.

"When people ask me how I'd like to be remembered, I know that you can win all the major championships you want or all the U.S. Opens that you want. But that's all about facts and that's all about statistics. ...You will be remembered, but will you be missed?" -Paul Azinger, reciting a passage from the late Payne Stewart