My cousin wls_xenolith and I went on a hike this afternoon. It was only a mile and a half (one way), but it ascended 1,065 feet.

Then we went on the Timpanogas Cave tour. And then we came back down.

I’m tired. But I think I might not be sick anymore. Ratcheting my heart rate clear up to 180 in sunny weather may have convinced my body that we’re serious about this whole “get well soon” thing.

Also, I need a shower. And I need to post pictures (from the hike. Not the shower.)

–Howard

I picked up the D&D 3.5 Player’s Handbook this afternoon.

I’d like to run my oldest two kids through a quick 1st-level adventure. Something along the lines of “go check out the spooky ruins outside of town, where we think the bandits are hiding out.” Ideally said adventure will allow for plenty of skill checks — spot, search, decipher, track, survival, use rope, etc. I don’t want the game to be unnecessarily complex, but I DO want the kids (ages 11 and 8) to have fun deciding to DO things that involve lots of dice-rolling.

And yeah, it needs a few monsters that can be killed.

It would be especially nice if said adventure didn’t require me to break down and buy the Monster Manual or the Dungeon Master’s Guide just yet.

So… any pointers?

–Howard

Daniel Mazur is a man who has his priorities straight.

According to this article, he sacrificed his attempt to scale Everest in order to rescue a man left for dead by a previous team of climbers. Daniel, who was a hired guide, said “It was very disappointing for me to miss my chance at the summit, but even more that I could not get my job done.”

Consider that for a moment. Regret #1 — he failed his paying clients (who apparently agreed with him that the life of the man they found was more important than their own ascents). Regret #2 — he failed to make it to the summit himself. Of course the word “regret” is my own. Again, in Mazur’s own words: “Oh yeah, it was worth it. You can always go back to the summit but you only have one life to live. If we had left the man to die, that would have always been on my mind. … How could you live with yourself?”

Now… before you take this as a reaffirmation of your faith in humanity, read the whole article. Apparently on the way down Mazur and his clients passed a pair of Italian climbers making the ascent. When asked for help, they claimed to speak no English. The Italians proceeded with their ascent, and later Mazur learned that they DID speak English. In this group we find the wonderful example of people for whom another human life was just one more thing they didn’t want to be troubled with. Not only that, in order to dodge responsibility they were willing to perjure themselves atop the highest court in the world.

It’s extremely unlikely that you or I will ever be faced with these exact circumstances, or even something approaching this extreme. That’s fine. Throughout our lives we will be presented with opportunities to choose between serving ourselves in something trivial, or serving someone else in something that really matters. We can look to Daniel Mazur, and commit to making our own little decisions a little better.

I’ve mentioned the trio of pom-pommed scotch pines in our front yard before. In examining them this year, prior to the annual trim, I realized that the big tree had cleverly managed to re-assume a “pine tree” shape, as lower branches spread out and higher branches reached for the stars.

We can’t have that. I love trees, but these trees want to be 100 feet tall, and they’re all within six feet of the foundation of my house. They MUST be stunted, lest they reduce my property to rubble over the course of the next six decades.

So I borrowed a 14-foot stepladder from my neighbor (the one who co-owns a local tool-and-equipment rental company), and this evening I set about performing butchery in the name of bonsai. I decided to wear long sleeves and long pants, which may seem a little on the hot side in 90-degree weather, but which probably saved my life. The tree seems to know that I’m allergic to it, and so it defends its shape by attempting to inject me with “essence of pine” anywhere I’ve got bare skin. Last year my forearms were liberally peppered with welts. This year my shirt was liberally gummed up with sap.

Long story short: it’s done. I had to cut waaaay back in some places in order to encourage nice pom-pom shapes, so for the next couple of years the tree is going to look a little scraggly.

It is angry with me. It probably takes what little selfish pleasure there is to be had among treekin in the fact that after two Excedrin PM and a long, hot shower I can still feel my lungs itching. But by Wednesday I’ll be all better, and the tree will still be scraggly.