I'm typing this blog in between my morning chores...
Woke up at 3:30. Well, hit the snooze button at 3:30.
Got up at 3:45.

Its 4:30 now. Right now I'm ironing my clothes.
Blue button down dress shirt and yesterdays khakis.
(I like to get two days out of the pants I wear.)
Does anyone else do that, too?

4:40 now. Toaster is out and ready for three slices.
While that cooks (?) I'll get out the crunchy peanut butter and the homemade strawberry jam my mother-in-law makes.

Combine this with the instant coffee and I've got breakfast.

Whats on the plate today? I don't know what story we'll lead with this morning yet.
Whoops. Toaster popped....

4:46. At the table with the pb&j toast my coffee and this laptop.

Where was I? Oh, today's plate.
Later this morning Douglas County fire District 2 is having a gas fire training exercise the media is invited to. I think I'll go. That reminds me, DCFD 2 Battalion Chief Roger Johnson was thrilled with the response by the entire emergency response system during that crash on I-5 the other day. That might be our lead today. Depending on what else is in my in box when I get to work.

I wanted to write something about the weekend I had. First one without Duck games to call.
Got to spend some quality time with my family. Nothing like a Saturday at home to settle you down, you know?

Sprayed the weeds around the place, started the process of recovering my garden from a winter of weed growing. Mowed the lawn (twice). I love the baseball field cross-hatch look. I chopped it down on the first pass, then lowered the rear wheels one click and went 90 degrees and cut it again. (Do the outside edge last for a really clean look.)

Dumped all that grass on my new compost pile (thanks Mike!) and turned it over with the help of my still-loyal-yard-helper Raegan.

I wasn't planning on doing a garden this year, what with my schedule and all, but Jerry Allen insisted I get one in. He was adamant about it. Like - make me pinky swear I'll do it.

Thats because I have made more memories with my daughters putting in and managing our garden than almost anything else we've done together. When Jerry heard that, he kinda went crazy making sure baseball didn't end that tradition.

Well, looks like it won't.

But I learned something from all that work.

I'm so out of shape - I can't even rake.

Typing that last line hurt, too.

Well, this has to be the weirdest blog I've written yet.
But its still early.

PS Watch for a feature article on me and the Ducks in the News Review in early May. Craig Reed came to PK Park and took pictures of me doing my thing (look for lots of action shots of me talking - ooh thrilling) and then spent an hour interviewing me. Craig's a pro. I'm looking forward to the piece.

Brian

Something OTHER than a Duck Update!?

First, an apology to the legions of people who wait with bated breath for each new edition of my blog. (Mostly just Kyle Bailey).

I've been busy with games and trips and stuff around the station that makes me feel way busier than I really am. Having the Duck games on my schedule is a really handy alibi and excuse for missing stuff. Its especially effective at the station, but I must admit its losing its power at home.

But I've promised not to dwell in Duck-land on this edition of the blog. Instead, let me proclaim to all (five) of you what it means to have been named the 2009 Jim Gregory Roseburg Booster of the Year.

Greg Marlar presented me with the award at the annual Booster Club Banquet last month (man it has been a long time since my last entry). He talked about what a mooch I was and lamented the fact that I had just stolen his thunder by telling the story about how Coach Horton called me 'whathisname'.

If he said nice things about me, I can't remember what he said. All I could think while Greg read the intro was how so many other people are worthy of this award.

I would like to chop this plaque into tiny pieces and give pieces to the following people:
Irene The Super Fan, who tagged up with Bessie for years of going to just about every sporting event in the county - but only if the Indians weren't playing.
To Tom Rise, whose encouragement to me included the story about he and his wife Rita tuning into Doc's games when she was too sick from chemo to come to Legion Field. He said, 'it beat crying all the time'.
To Coach Troy Thompson, who teases me about never doing regular season Roseburg baseball games and to Coach Lander, who still thinks I could do play-by-play for wrestling. (I know they do it in Prineville, but I don't know a two point take down from a three-piece meal).
To Deb Ramey, who needs to be cloned to get more stuff done.
To Russ Bolin who takes such good care of me.

I would like to thank the guys at Chuck's Texaco for filling up the vehicles with the kind of gas that gets you home every time and for Ken Sherman, Keith Pettengill, Jared Castle, Robert Reppenghagen, Kellen Walker, Jeff Bright, Jaime Yraguen, Steve Coats, Ben Tatone and Steve Salapich for riding with me to games.

Riding with me means 1) watching a man eat and drive with his knees
2) playing a pro bono Dr Phil to dissect the problems (real and imagined) I seem to get into when the vehicle reaches cruising speed.
3) the occasional foul odor that comes with weeks of eating hamburgers and quesadillas at cruising speed
4) late night returns and long rides back from disappointing losses far from home and 5)learning to love listening to Susan Tedeschi at unhealthy volume levels.

I also thank my wife Jannie for taking care of all the details of raising three girls so I can forget everything and go play on the radio. She puts up with me when I'm too high on myself and too hard on myself - which I am always either one or the other.

Honestly, so many people make Roseburg a special place. To get the kind of love I receive in return for doing what I love is truly one of the best things I have ever been a part of.