A brown bat has been spending the days upside-down under our eaves, snoozing as kids frolic fifteen feet below it in the mother of all wading pools. I barbecued chicken satay today, served with peanut sauce. Friends made salad. They asked me how to make the tasty peanut sauce. Here’s how:

• Buy package of peanut sauce mix

• Follow directions

After everyone left, our kids went to bed, we cleaned up and reclined on lounge chairs in the backyard, staring at the sky, waiting for falling stars, and were not disappointed.
At one point I saw a bat.

Hot again. Went to an exhibition after lunch, at a local museum, of “fantastic realism” painters (including Ernst Fuchs, who I previously thought was overrated, but now think is a genius). Took eldest daughter’s girlfriend who likes art and seems to us to be getting shortchanged by her parents attention-wise this summer. Is there anything nicer than teens enjoying a trip to an art museum?

I suppose there must be lots of things, but it was still nice. Then we came home and splashed in the mother of all wading pools. They did, I read. Then we were too lazy to cook dinner so went to a wine tavern.

Tomorrow friends are visiting for a barbecue. They are bringing 5 kids, so I suppose the yard gets trashed. As long as no holes are poked in the pool and the cellar doesn’t get flooded I’ll be happy. The key to happiness is not getting your hopes up.

I haven’t read a newspaper in days, except a few Japan Times we get days late. I don’t even know what day it is.

Cleaning lady just showed up. Now I have to go into the back yard to read Harry Potter. On the agenda this evening: birthday celebration for inlaws and eldest daughter. Wife cooking steaks, which she does well (organic beef). I make garlic bread and salad. And mix drinks, which I am not so good at, but luckily your average Austrian is not so familiar with cocktails and assumes all Americans are experts heh.

What I’ve always dreamed of doing: staying home and relaxing.
Friday: dinner at friends (eldest daughter’s harp teacher, her family, etc.). In the courtyard of an old building in Vienna. Her father told stories about being a POW in the USSR during/after WWII. The food was good (at our dinner, not in the POW camps). Her father is a wine dealer, so the wine was also good.
Saturday: Stayed home and recovered from Friday night. Relaxed.
Sunday: Went to a cheesy Western theme park. About an hour drive there through beautiful hilly countryside. Park: run-down looking when you arrive (probably very authentic, I’m sure lots of old Western towns in the US looked that way). Many of the employees looked like ex-cons and/or recovering addicts and/or bikers. Nice people too. Food service was slowwww. They had a single “Indian”: a gentleman from Guatamala. There were, surprisingly, lots of things to do. We hung out there all day. Prices were reasonable. In other words, it was great. I loved it. They had trick riding shows. I pressured eldest daughter and her girlfriend into buying “Indian” earrings. Didn’t have to pressure wife or youngest daughter to purchase jewelry.
We went canoeing on a murky pond. Youngest daughter pet horses, rode one. She also did the bullriding thing with me, and then again with her sister. Did a bunch of other stuff. Not once, not once, not eating, or drinking, or doing anything else, did we get ripped off. Have you ever been to a theme park where that happened? After my recent circus trip, it was refreshing not to get robbed.
More later.
Oh, wait. They even had a “Western circus” that was okay. Kind of second rate. Of course, they had a woman (“buckskin” halter top, short “buckskin” hot pants) doing a snakegirl dance suspended in mid air from a silver hulahoop, for the dads.

Cool temperatures, overcast. Doe and twin fawns grazing next to the freeway.

Look at this.

The key to a successful freelance career: a diary.