I’ll be adding the site to the blogroll, but in the meantime, read any of the manifestos… I liked this one…
Yesterday at work was completely and utterly without incident. It was so peaceful and happy that it really was quite remarkable.
The bruise on my calf from where the muscle snapped is now a tennis ball sized navy circle. However, I am walking much better. The muscle that snapped is also the one that the sciatic nerve travels through… no coincidence I suspect… so I’m all twingy and twangy and the foot numbness is pretty bad. Still it’s good to be able to walk faster than a constipated snail and I get fifteen metres at a time when I’m not even limping at all. Especially on level ground.
Keith just brought me coffee, happy child. Katie, of course, is absent and hasn’t called. She must be pretty confused right now. The next 85 words deleted because they aren’t sufficiently constructive and respectful.
I came back into the house when I missed my bus. Then the phone rang and Paul said he’d give me a lift. A week ago I would have passed. But things have changed, as always.
The other night the kids called a family meeting and essentially read us the riot act.
Her Majesty the Queen charges and commands all persons being assembled immediately to disperse and peaceably to depart to their habitations or to their lawful business on the pain of being guilty of an offence for which, on conviction, they may be sentenced to imprisonment for life. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.
Or to the like effect. Essentially, they don’t give a shit if Paul and I are having trouble living together; they want us to keep the peace and stay in the house. Katie isn’t so attached to the house but she’s much attached to peacefulness (rude, unconstructive comment here deleted…). So now we’re in non-non-divorce territory; we can’t divorce because we aren’t married and we can’t split up because of our extremely convenient living arrangements as itemized by our children, who see their comfortable berth during the next phase of their schooling evaporating if we split. However, thanks to the wonders of the Inertnest, it turns out that a non non divorce is completely normal, and how couples did things anyways before divorce was popularized by a particularly scummy brand of shyster, operating in cahoots with the MSM.
So, we still have to hammer out a separation agreement and there are other domestic issues hanging fire, but it was very bizarre having my domestic arrangements critiqued with such relentless and dispassionate efficiency by my children; it could only happen to me and Paul.
Cease and desist – or Proceed and Permit?
I’ve only done four things on this list – five if you think of this blog as educational outreach – but when I read that Bev Odious has been getting her marching orders from the Canadian recording industry, my blood just boiled.
Anyway, if you want to stop the changes to the Canadian Copyright laws which are essentially going to criminalize everybody in Canada, please view this.
scanged from Wonkette.
My right foot is almost entirely numb, even as my leg gets better. And it wasn’t a charley horse; it was a torn muscle in my calf, as evidenced by a navy bruise the size of a tennis ball. I’m walking much better, though…. I’ve been very slow and very gimpy.
Katie spent the night at Dax’ again. Rr. Rrrr-rrrr. Hrngh.
I constitute all the management that there is in my department today. That’s a cheerful prospect before I go in; fortunately nothing nasty ever happens even when I blog in advance that it’s going to be fine.
Christine Lavin is at it again. I’ve seen her live, and she’s a truly remarkable entertainer. This link by way of a bunch of Unitarian buddies, one of whom was dumped by a guy who…. well, let’s just say it’s lucky she didn’t spend years with him. Six months was interesting enough. Oh, Christine also did a version of it for men, so go to the main site and scroll about a third of the way down to get it.
Once again, from the indefatigable Cousin Gerald. This conclusively demonstrates some of the hazards of construction in Newfoundland.
Cousin Gerald sent me this…
It’s a very cute story and the pix are lovely. If you don’t like birds – this means YOU Lady Miss Banjola – don’t follow the link.