Giving winter the boot

I keep trying to give winter the hint that it's long past time to be over, but that darn cold wind keeps coming back.

My favorite thing to do when Mom gets home is to dash into the back hall, grab a boot and do some more dashing, this time out the back door. Then it's Mom's turn to dash over, grab the boot in her teeth and take her turn around the yard. Somehow, she never remembers how to play that part of the game. The boots get left outside, and then she complains that I never pick up my toys.

Tip: if your mom has the down-filled North Face boots,  shake them really hard. It's fun to play in the feathers. Kind of like snow, but warmer.

Boston Marathon sadness

For once, I'll skip the usual self-aggrandizing comments. Instead, I'll just express my gratefulness that Mom and Dad both are physically OK. And sadness, plenty of deep sadness for those who are not and for our wonderful but wounded city.

Marathons, Boston and otherwise

Are you tiny enough to fit in here? My sister is--in fact, she's actually inside!

While Mom is still hoping to pull off her first Boston Marathon after two years of training (and, I might add, ignoring her adorable hound dog while she pounds out the miles) my sister is off on a marathon of her own.

The Shell Eco Marathon 2013 has brought together 151 teams from North and South America to Houston for three days of racing alternative energy vehicles put together by high school and college students. My sister's team, from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in Troy, NY, crated two cars. My sister is driving one of the cars and helped build the other. She was chosen as driver, not for her navigation skills, I am sure, but for her small size. That's her, unidentifiable in that tiny capsule above.

Proving that moms can pick out their children from a sea of like teens in hundreds of photos, that's my sister in the red fireproof suit, in front of the two RPI cars (also in the school color).

Gathering for the opening ceremony in Houston. My sister's
in the racing suit. Look out, Danica Patrick!

 The goal of this marathon, perhaps like Mom's goal in the Boston race, is not to be the fastest, but to use the least amount of fuel. Last year's winning team toted up more than 2,000 mpg. Of course, if RPI had me hitched up to that tiny capsule, they'd win on all counts: least fuel, fastest time. For efficiency, there's nothing like a hound dog. Just give him a good long nap afterwards.