Dreams and Groceries

1. Dreamed up a board game.  Going to have to write it down today so I can keep some of it.  It was about ghouls and swamps.  So, nothing unusual for me.

1.5 As it turns out, shopping for groceries is downright pleasant at 8 in the morning.  Almost no one at the Price Chopper.  This is a thing to be remembered.

2. Also, my not being bothered by Christmas music seems to be a thing, now.  I got the acid test in the form of Wilson-Phillip's "Hey Santa," and while I did sing "hey Satan" instead when I was unpacking the groceries (who doesn't?), I felt no particular rancor toward the song or the notion that I would be dealing with a solid month of its ilk.  Go me?

3. Yesterday, we went to the Branford animal shelter to visit a trio of pigs.  They were very sweet and we are in the process of adopting them (just called the landlord for his okay).  Calico, they are, a mom and two daughters (though all of them are around the same size now, so it's hard to tell which one is mom).  One is smooth coated, the other two have whorls and cowlicks.  We've got names picked out - Sassafras, Meryl and Aveline.  I hope my landlord doesn't decide that since we have no pigs, it's a good time to cut us off from getting more.  They are really sweet girls.
 
4. Saturday, I went to see some hockey.  Something that I suppose is not obvious to anyone who doesn't spend a lot of time with me in person, but I am sort of a hockey fan.  Been going AHL games in Hartford for 3 years, now, one year of the Wolf Pack and two of the Whale (which I have cleverly renamed the Fail).  I hear that the minors for baseball is a place to see better baseball than what they play in the majors - more interesting games with a little more left to ... I don't know, sports magic?  AHL doesn't seem to be like that.  AHL is a place to go to see bad hockey played by people who don't really want to be there.  I don't know what it is, but I suspect it's a combination of the NHL lockout and the fact that a lot of the players on the AHL teams seem to have been NHL players put out to pasture.  At the very least, you can spot them in an instant on the ice.  The Whale has notoriously bad puck control and cannot produce on a power play if their lives were at stake, but sometimes, it seems like they would play decent hockey, if it weren't for one to two guys on the ice who are clearly giving no fucks at all.  The beat Norfolk on Saturday because Norfolk managed to generate a sort of anti-fuck that drew the puck into their goal through no fault of the Whale.

4.5 All this makes it seem like I don't enjoy watching the games, but I do, I really do.  Bitterly complaining about the team and their failure to complete a pass, let alone make plays, is part of the enjoyment.  Hell, I am even okay with the local section cheerleaders New Haven and Tacos.  Well, okay is a strong word.  I would miss them if they weren't there, but the game would be more pleasant.  It's a weird sort of enjoyment.  The sporting equivalent of eating something too spicy for you, or something.