It's been rather cold up in these parts the last few days. No real shock in stating the obvious, but it is a nice way to introduce these pictures I took at Nancie's house this morning.
I should say at this point that Nancie and I have joined a bowling league. We've formed our own team, and have been taking a few of our recruits out to scout their performances. The good news is, so far all of our teammates are better than both of us combined.
Our team name is The Thunderballs.
I'll take credit for the team name and minimal-effort logo, thank you very much.
Last night Nancie and I were joined at Boston Bowl with our teammate Jeremy and some potential recruits in the form of Jane and her husband Dan. I'm really beginning to like the Boston Bowl. For one thing, it's open 24/7. NOTHING of any entertainment value is open that long around Boston. Secondly, even at peak hours, it's pretty darn cheap to throw a few sets. Lastly, free socks. Not many places have their own logo socks, embroidered with the American flag on them.
At first the complimentary socks seem like the best part. And they are, in a way. You can't take a Pin home as a souvenir, and those shoes don't match with any outfits. So the socks are a pretty cool little take-away, until, that is, you've gone there a few weekends in a row, and the socks start piling up on the floor of your car. Nancie actually refused the socks last night. But I found a simple alternate use for the comp-sock: Behold the Boston Bowl Beer Bottle Cozie!
Buy one get one free! And since you get them free anyway, I think you might actually make money on the deal. Beat that!?
Anyhow... There we were, all in our fresh socks (except Nancie), ready to bowl. I think I was fourth in our fivesome. I grabbed the ball I had picked, set myself up, approached, released, and... Wham! The ball caught on my thumb as I released, hooked HARD to the left, hit the gutter and then skipped into the adjacent lane where a bunch of kids were rolling. It's a good thing those kids had the bumpers up, because that ball probably would have skipped into at least one other lane if it had the chance. Humiliated, red-faced, I turned to face my current and potential teammates. They of course thought it was hilarious. I put on my most sheepish smile and turned to my lane-neighbors, sputtering apologies. In the end, one of the kids ran down the lane to fetch the ball, I had a do-over (since I had missed my lane completely), and all was right with the alley.
Maybe I should stick to Skee-ball.