Take the plunge.

Weekends are wonderful. The best of times, the end. There are a lot of cherished rituals, time honored, finely tuned practices. Mowing the grass, which is so much nicer using a human powered, reel mower, quiet enough to listen to music, no ritual is so perfect it can't be improved.

Throwing burgers on the grill is another tradition. Technically it doesn't need to be burgers, it could be brats, or steaks, or ribs, chicken, chops, whole zucchini, ears of corn, almost anything. Yesterday it was burgers, though. Of course, yesterday we started the burgers, and then the rain came, so there is no tradition so practiced it can't go wrong.

On weekends I like to go for a walk through the park. It is not a big park, but it is heavily wooded, with a well established path running through the forest, and a nice bridge spanning the small creek. Since it was warm, humid and the sky was dark, ominous and echoed with the distant rumble of thunder I had the park pretty much to myself. And something kept crashing through the woods and brush just out of sight. Whatever it was it sounded huge, hungry and carnivorous. No routine is so normal being stalked by an unseen, terrifying beast, even if it doesn't exist, won't dampen it a little.

Next week I am adding a new practice to the weekend lineup. I am going kayaking. My kayak is home, waiting, it will be licensed tomorrow, and next weekend it will be on the water, and I will be in the kayak, while it is on the water.

I know what you are thinking; "you hate boats, and you are terrified of water." True, and I have no explanation, but, I have always wanted to kayak, They say you have to face your fears, and for the most part I think that is nonsense, rubbish, just a whole load of crap. But, I am facing this one, I hope I live to write the blog post about it.