Coupeville Sports

        Two of the nephews, Little Lord Chubbington (left) and the Blueberry Farmer. Moody McTeenager is 6-foot-1 now and would crush my lap if he sat on it. (Matthew Kirkconnell photo)

It’s that time of year.

Boston creme pie, pecan pie and green been casserole with canned fried onions on top (no matter how loudly my now-insanely-devoted-to-pure-foods sister may scream about having to make it). Some call it Thanksgiving, I call it four days of free room and board.

And now I’ve probably said too much and she’s plotting home repair projects for me to undertake during my time in Maple Valley.

But hey, she’s probably too busy with her trail food cooking empire to read my blog on a regular basis, anyway, so I’m probably safe. If not, my shoddy reputation as a home-repair-project-doing kind of person works nicely as a backup plan.

Anyway, if coupevillesports.com doesn’t post its normal four articles a day for the next 96 hours, now you know why. The Canadian Corporate Overlords haven’t bought me out (or kidnapped me and taken me to a secret location to be tortured with herring) and, since I ended my Penn Cove swimming until the spring, I haven’t fallen down the Hill O’ Death.

I am off to cavort with my three nephews and while I may update a bit and post a thing or two, I won’t be hunkered over the computer, feverishly scooping the herring-chomping competition on 7th grade basketball coverage.

I’ll be back at it Friday (and hey, high school basketball is still in the practice stage and middle school hoops is off until Nov. 26, anyway), but feel free to continue to send me stuff. I catch up quickly.

Well, unless I eat too much pie…