Mar. 20th, 2006

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Gave Dog-Or the last of his antibiotics yesterday, so no more "catch the dog and force horrible tablets down his throat". I'm happy about this, and presumably he is too. The wound is healing, slowly but surely, and he gets his stitches out on Wednesday. Will probably leave the cone on a while longer, though, because we *know* he'll want to scritch the hell out of it as soon as possible.

It's my father's 60th next month. Not sure what to get him. Not that he demands a big fuss over presents - he's pretty easy-going that way - but I'm fond of my father and I'd like to get him something nice. Half of me is saying "maybe a cookbook for bachelors" and the other half is saying "let him enjoy his birthday without reminding him about that bit". Talked to my brother - he's well and cheerful, so that's all good.

Still feeling tired and sore of late. Partly not getting to bed at sensible hours, partly a stiff spot right at the base of my skull causing headaches (chiropractor has tried twice so far to dislodge that, no luck as yet). Managed to get in a short stint on the exercise bike last night; total exercise since last update 20 km, which would be more impressive if it wasn't spread over 3 weeks, which is exactly the same thing I said 3 weeks ago. Total 158km/95mi leaves me neatly at Old Man Willow, day 4. No wonder I feel sleepy. Did at least get a reasonable amount done around the house this weekend, smote the front garden with the whipper-snipper and drove legions of tiny skinks before me. (This is a good thing; I'm v. fond of skinks and am glad they have the sense to run.)

Odd dreams last night - I'd recently sent a fairly important letter to an old old friend, and in the dream somebody was telling me she'd died. Fortunately, I'm usually at least a semi-lucid dreamer; I don't get to shape my dreams exactly as I want them, but I was able to wrench it away from "she died" to "somebody claims she's died, but they might be wrong, and besides this is a dream so it's not reliable anyway". Rey says I was talking in my sleep, but it doesn't sound like it was the same dream; apparently I was pestering her for tech support.

Oh, and the latest spam: "We cure any desease!" The contents offer me a choice between 'Viagra generic soft' (sic!), 'Cialis generic soft', 'Levitra', and 'Viagra and Cialis'. Forget hydrogen peroxide, we have a new cure for HIV and cancer!

Oh, and Dennis Mize, who sculpted minis for Ral Partha, Reaper, and various others, died aged 49. I don't think I had any of his human figures (mostly too cheesecakey for my tastes), but I'm pretty sure I've painted a couple of his monsters, and I rather like these fellows.

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