Played basketball this morning for the first time since June, not including the Bouchercon game. Great to be back! Though every new season I think, "I'm too old for this." Since I'm not getting a chance to play at a younger age again, until my next life, though, I keep going. I figure I'll play until that big career-ending injury, or until my teammates actually groan when I walk into the gym.

Speaking of the Bouchercon game, it was a pretty good one. Here's the team photo:



Note I'm the only woman who played. Where were all the rest of you big-talking dames? More importantly, where will you be in Cleveland? I don't want to hear your excuses. I just want to see you show up. (Do I sound like Coach?)

When the game was over, about a quarter to eleven, I started down the street and came, a block away, upon a family -- mom, dad, two kids -- staring at a bird standing on the sidewalk. At first I thought it was just one of our local sparrows, completely fearless if there's food involved. But it wasn't moving and didn't look happy. It tried to flap a couple of times, gave up, stared around. I didn't recognize the markings (looked it up when I got home) but obviously the poor little guy wasn't well. I think it must have flown into a window and was stunned. The lovely thing was, the little boy, about five, refused to leave without helping it. I had to promise I'd put it in a box and take it to people who rescue hurt birds before he'd let his family go on with their day. The further good news was, when I got back from the nearby pharmacy with a box, the bird was gone; and while I was searching the overgrown grass to make sure it hadn't just limped away, I saw it take off from a tree and make its way across the intersection and down the street. Its wings, which I was afraid were damaged, were working fine. I hope it gets some rest and makes it to Florida. Which is where Ken Schneider took this photo of one of its relatives: