The Belt

I've held the unified belt for several days straight now, but I fear it looks a little sunny out and we are about to try a little Sudoku challenge.

Take That Mother Nature - I'm the Household Grand Champion

It seems obvious now, Mother Nature is rooting against me. Ha, I say, ha.
You see, it's not so much that she is conspiring against me, and let's face it, there is little she can do to me to hold me back. Well at least, there is little she can do to me that won't also affect Donna. She can get overcast and gloomy, she can rain and bluster, but short of a lightning strike, she's getting us both. And really now, don't you think that a lightning strike would be a tad too obvious.
No, I don't mean to imply that she is cheating, that she is providing any extraordinary assistance like a wind at someone's back say. It is more that she wants Donna to win. I mean, let's face it she probably has an in with fate. They probably went to the same school or they met at a party and now she knows ahead of time whether ... well I suppose, she knows a lot of things. Not the least of which is who will be our household grand champion. And it would seem she has taken an interest in the outcome.
Only a few days ago, she was in a grand mood. Couldn't wait for us to get up and get going on our morning Sudoku. Couldn't wait for me to lose.
And how about today? She has been miserable all day. Dark and brooding. Spitting all day. I suspect it's 'cause she knew. She knew I'd win at Sudoku and she knew I would win on the grind. She knew I would regain my rightful title as Household Grand Champion.
Well, at least for today.

Donna's Still Champ

It's Sunday morning and for the first time in what has seemed to be a very long time the sun was up and out eagerly waiting for us to rise. Prying at the bedroom blinds. Peeking in the kitchen window, as if straining to see whether the kettle was on the stove yet.
So you'll forgive me if I felt optimistic returning up the stairs. It's become a part of our morning ritual that as she finishes her second bowl of cereal, I head downstairs to print of a few Sudokus. Two sheets, each with an easy and a medium level puzzle. She uses pen and I a mechanical pencil. Which speaks volumes in itself.
I sunk into the big chair that sits in front of the large north facing window wearing my glasses. "Oh, your serious," she said. I don't often wear my glasses. Not out of some sense of vanity, as I don't think they look badly on. Rather, more out a sense of bother. I never really seem to have them at hand and not needing them to function, I rarely feel impelled to search for them. But this morning I had noticed them on my desk and without thinking had put them on. Not really a wise strategy I'll admit.
Sure they are helpful and I may even complete the puzzles in question a tad faster, but just by wearing them I have thrown down the gauntlet. I have spurred on my opponent.
"Are you ready," she asked? It wasn't so much a question as a prod.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
Not surprisingly, I failed to supplant our household champion once again. Which, in case your counting, I'm told makes six losses in a row. But, I thought, while listening to the Vinyl Cafe and the wonderful voice of Stewart McLean, at least it's sunny and we've no plans to climb the grind today.