It turns out that I’m not sick and didn’t catch anything while up at the Butte Bouldering Bash on Saturday. Yay for me!!! I don’t like being sick, and I’m ever so thankful that I’m not sick right now. It was just my body trying to tell me I shouldn’t get hypothermic before putting on my good outdoor gear to keep it warm in the first place!!! I didn’t climb at Spire (the climbing gym) in Bozeman yesterday because, honestly, I just wanted to go home. I wasn’t feeling that great, but I did stop by and see Mom & Dad on my way back to Billings. I had a quick cup of tea and watched Nascar with them, then was on my way home with a chunk of freshly cooked pork roast that my mother gave me. Mmm…yummy. Jerrold and I watched Cullen last night and he was a happy, verbal little guy. He’s a chatterbox (no words yet, but he tells you all his thoughts, anyway, haha!). He’s very verbal again this morning. Yesterday, Jerrold got him a bouncy seat type thing that is very soft and Cullen loves it! It makes sounds and plays music and vibrates, and all kinds of stuff. When he kicks, which he likes to do, the seat he’s in bounces softly and Cullen gets a “kick” out of that, so he kicks more! I don’t know if Mack wanted to meet to train today since he and Michelle were going to stay up at the area that we had the comp at and explore the Superbia region, but I plan on climbing today, regardless. I have to get my body over this hump, whatever caused it (STRESS), because I need to get as much climbing time in as possible before SteepWorld closes in less than two weeks. The new climbing gym won’t be open for a couple of weeks after that, so that leaves me in the lurch unless I get a message to come and set at the new gym (I would LOVE THAT!!!). Good thing I just bought ten more day pass punches on my Spire account in Bozeman! MUST CLIMB!!! MUST…CLIMB!!!
Content Rating PG, for the most part
I try to keep the content of my posts in the PG range (meaning that maybe your 13-year-old should not read it... Just kidding!) - you know, something I could get away with tastefully in the town square without getting lynched, tarred-and-feathered, or hung (and something my mother would NOT wash my mouth out with soap for). As far as what age you have to be to understand some of the subtleties of my humor in writing and/or speaking, well... That may vary. A lot.