Sunday, October 8

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Greg is okay, totally perfectly fine physically, although he was in an accident yesterday. That information always goes the other way around: you say "someone was in an accident" and the other person immediately assumes the worst, gets freaked, and asks, panicked, "is he okay?" I know this very well by now, as this is the third accident in a month and a half.

Late August: Greg, truck going too fast, tree
Mid September: Dad's car parked, other car backing up, CVS parking lot
Early October: Greg, Dad's car changing lanes, car side swiping from other lane

Poor Greg. He feels like crap over this.

Yesterday Dan and I went to King Richard's Faire. He didn't think to invite other people in advance, so we went alone. My allergies bothered me some, but mostly in the jousting area. Stupid Tavist. We had a pillow fight to the death which I lost five times. Dan sucked hilariously at the game where you pound a block with a hammer and a thing goes up to hit a bell. Miraculously, we used up all the food tickets. The winning combination: Turkey leg, bag o' the King's Nuts, peasant bread, and fudge. Ding Ding Ding Ding!


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