I was down in my hometown - Blue Earth - yesterday, and learned that they took out a walking trail that previously qualified as one of the only things to do in town. That seems like a mistake, but so does living there in the first place, so whatever.

Woooooo. Hopefully I won't forget about it like I forgot about the Home Run Derby. My mind isn't back in real life yet. Not that the All-Star Break is "real life," but you feel me.

I haven't had a real free day in weeks. I've had plans to see a lot of people and still haven't. If you're one of them, I promise, when people stop dying and hitting my car, I'll be able to get out more. I can't even go to my ten year reunion this Saturday.

The Milkmaid and I had a great weekend at the cabin, leading up to the worst 4th we've ever had. Her uncle died in a bizarre accident at a holiday party in the wee hours of the 4th, which she found out yesterday at about 8 or 9 AM. Last night I went to get her some ice cream - her comfort stuff - and was hit by a guy running a red light, which broke my headlight and gouged up my fender.

Happy freedom, gang. Don't drink and drive.

My wife is gone by the time I get up and today she'll be asleep by the time I get home. Not her best birthday, I'm sure, but the coming weekend will be cool.

I finally get to join my family for Independence Day weekend at the cabin, seven or eight years after the tradition started. I was afraid being back home after so long would be underwhelming, but so far I'm still overjoyed not to be stuck in Phoenix.

Still missing our hometown rock hero, dudes.

My grandpa Wells is pretty much gone. He sort of surprised all of us by singing along to "Happy Birthday to You" with his eyes still closed at his own birthday party, and he clapped dutifully along with us as it was over. One aunt, already a wreck, was beside herself at this time and continued to try to explain to him who he was and why we were all here.

He's forgotten me, but he was glad to hear I'm a grandson and that I love him. His memory is useless, but his capacity to love has not left him. He's had a great life. I doubt it'll last much longer, but I can't complain about the life he had.

My grandfather's 91st birthday is this weekend. He started forgetting the younger grandchildren about a year ago, then me and a couple others last year and his own children here in the last few months. Everyone thinks this is probably his last birthday, and frankly, in the month since it was put together I was wondering whether we'd ever reach this one.

On top of this, this is the side of the family I have very little in common with, and I haven't seen most of them for years. This weekend could be all kinds of difficult.

I'm running a game over on Facebook with a few of my regulars and a bunch of people who typically play with a more regular-Joe crowd. I think I'm losing the ability to relate to the regular Joe.