I started with good intentions. At 10 AM, when the dew would be dry, I would begin to mow and edge the yard. After that, having barely broken a sweat, I would dive into all the other outdoor chores that need doing around here, like planting the morning glory seeds (one month late), caging the tomato vines (two weeks late), cutting some spinach and lettuce (on time daily) -- undemanding tasks that I looked forward to all winter. The sky was bright, and the temperature was cool -- perfect weather for working outdoors.

Didn't happen.

While I was waiting for the dew to dry, the momentum of my good intentions pushed me to load the bread machine and to run a load of towels and napkins through the washer. Might as well get those sheets, too. Oh, and these breakfast dishes are getting crusty.

While scraping dried egg from a kid's plate, I glanced at the TV/VCR combo in the kitchen and noticed the Braveheart tape beside it.

End of morning.

I have been outside to hang the towels and sheets on the line to dry. That's it. And now I can't mow, of course, because hanging laundry attracts grass cuttings from weed whackers. Scientific fact. Laboratory tests.

Of course, this rationale works only if the laundry is left on the line until after sundown. So, our stuff is REALLY dry.

Still appreciative of his position as family baby, Taylor cuddled up to me during Braveheart. The lawn will be there tomorrow; I can't be assured that his cuddling-with-Dad reflex will survive, so I must enjoy it while I can.

Okay, I just used the my-kid-won't-be-a-child-forever gambit to cop out of the yard work. I'm a slug. So sue me.

In other news, at noon Josh and his friend James took off with the canoe for a float down the Blue River. They put in at Rocky Ford, just below Tuttle Creek Reservoir. A few hours later they pulled out at the landing at the highway 24 bridge, a half mile above the confluence of the Blue and the Kansas Rivers, where we left the van for them. (With the tool box in the truck bed, the Ranger won't accommodate the canoe like the '58 Chevy did, and we haven't built a rack for the Ranger yet.)

Although many folks drive around town with whitewater canoes and kayaks strapped onto their SUV's or pickups, this is strictly flatwater-canoeing country. If the outflow from the tubes at Tuttle Creek Reservoir is above 2000 cfs, this stretch of the Blue is an easy float with the current. Today, however, the outflow is only 750 cfs, so Josh and James had to break a sweat and paddle.

I started rereading the Kundera (The Unbearable Lightness of Being) last night.

I dozed through the Pacers-Knicks and Lakers-Trailblazers games. What on earth made me think that Kundera could keep me awake?