I heard recently that genius isn't a trait people are born with, so much as intentional practice repeated endlessly that results in mastery. I'm planning on going for a leisurely bike ride through New England this fall, and to that end, I'm riding slowly, practically waddling, around on my bicycle here to get ready.
Speaking of getting in shape, tomorrow morning we'll find out if that coquettish minx, the high end of my goal weight range will finally surrender to me. Encouragingly, I am comfortably wearing, right now, the cargo pants Leah gave me a couple of years ago.
And, speaking of genius, I heard a story on Radio Lab this morning that claimed that an exhaustive concordance-like review of word choices in Agatha Christie's ouvre revealed a substantial decline in her last few books that researchers now think shows she was developing dementia. It's a relief to me because I thought her last few books were terrible, unlike Dorothy Sayers who hated all of them.
Oh, I almost forgot to mention that here in rubber-hammer world, Karen went to get an eye exam and now she's having eye surgery. It's a very simple procedure according to the surgeon, except hello, it's surgery on an eye. Except it's both eyes.