My street smells like hot dogs...

This is weird.  And true.  The cool breeze blowing in through the windows in my little home is bringing with it the smell of hot dogs.  Not sausages, not kielbasa, hot dogs.  Like convenience store hot dogs.  It's been like this for at least the last hour.  

The second round of the U. S. Open semi-finals are on: Nadal v. Murray.  Because of pending storms on the East Coast, the planes have been rerouted and, like in the old days of the U.S. Open, they fly overhead every minute or so.  Kind of funny, because I'd forgotten that used to happen.  (My mother has loved watching tennis for as long as I can remember and therefore I saw many grand slams played in my yute.)  

Random thoughts day, I guess.  No music postings, I'm afraid.  I've got some school work to focus on, and some tennis to watch.  I like to think of it as doing something with my mom, even though it's not physically together.  Keeping up with her interests, and all.  

By the way, just say "no" to instant replay in baseball.