Bowling, church and other matters

I am an indifferent or mediocre ten pin bowler.  Nevertheless I signed up for a fall/autumn league.  We are four teams, each of three people.  Of the twelve bowlers I know six very well, three fairly well and two who were strangers until last week.

Bowling leagues and Church attendance  have some commonalities.

Some bowlers, such as I, are there just to get out of the house and to use up a few hours.

Some bowlers are there chiefly to encourage the weaker team members, and to cheer when anyone bowls well.

Some are obsessed with the minutiae of averages and handicaps.

Others are anxious to improve their skills, and work hard to perfect their skills.

A few  (and this includes me at bowling) sit back with naughty amusement at the foibles and antics of others:  the feigned modesty, the over exuberance, and the deadly seriousness with which some take the whole enterprise.

That's bowling. Those who hang around Churches will see the odd connection between league bowlers and Church congregants.


IN THE MEANTIME we in South West Florida are being treated to an excess of rainfall.  The rain, much of it very heavy, has been with us for about 30 hours. There is some localized street flooding and the ground is saturated and soggy.
Penne and I have taken quick outside trips when the rain has been light, so that she could have a decent pee.    However, despite all my words of encouragement ( e.g."have a nice poop Penne") she has not emptied her bowels for 36 hours.  Maybe she thinks that soggy ground is not an appropriate place for the gracious lady which she is.

And maybe the regularity of bowel movements is simply a obsession for old farts such as I, and is not a source of worry for canines.

The rain has it's blessings.  Our aquifers are being wonderfully replenished.  That's good.  What was not good was that the tiled entry way to the bowling alley was entirely slippery.   Oh I know this to be true.  For as I walked out this afternoon I slipped and fell flat on my backside.  The only injuries were to my pride.

Two 30 something "lads" were taking a smoke and witnessed my fall.  They rushed to pull me to my feet, and were concerned lest I was injured.

Of course I know that they saw not your friend jmp who thinks that he is still 45 years old, but an old codger sprawled out on the tiles.  "To see ourselves as others see us"!


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