Vole in the Hole

What's been going on?

I'm down to 2 weeks left of no-job.  I am both ready to go back to work and not ready to go back to work.

I had a birthday somewhere in there.  I'm now 36.  Jeannie got me candy for my birthday, which was awesome, and some of the ugliest coasters you've ever seen, which was less-than awesome.  And a big ol', double-burner, cast-iron griddle, which was way awesome.  Now I can cook up mass quantities of bacon and/or eggs.  I can also make 2 (maybe even 3!) pancakes at once.

"Vole in the Hole" is going to be the title of my autobiography (if it's not already taken).  It came to me today, as Jeannie and Sam and I were on a lovely nature walk, and we saw a hole in the ground, and I postulated that there might, perhaps, be a vole in the hole.

I just looked up 'postulate.'  Turns out it's not quite the word I was looking for.  What's a better word?  Hypothesized?  Posited?

Anyway, the nature walk was lovely, somewhere we'd never been before, and it culminated in what was described in the description of the hike as an "idyllic pool and rock formation."  I think it was a pretty good description.  The pool was pretty cool, and perhaps made more idyllic by the fact that it was kind of an overcast day and we were the only ones there.  Probably less than idyllic when there are a handful of teenagers around pooping on everything good.  Or whatever it is that the teenagers do these days.