(no subject)

Galen likes to wash my face during the night. I don't enjoy it so much.

Partly because he has a sandpaper tongue; mostly because it's impossible to sleep when there's a purring beast grooming you. If I flip over onto my stomach, he simply switches to grooming my hair. He doesn't purr when he does that though - I guess my fur isn't as neat to him as my stubbly chin.

However, we've reached an accomodation of sorts. Galen jumps onto the bed (or crawls up from my feet, if he's sleeping there) around 3:30 AM. I put up with the grooming, pet the purring cat, and we're both reasonably happy.

Yeas, 3:30 AM is Still Too Damn Early. But the alarm goes off at 4 anyway.

What I'm reading: Harry Turtledove, Return Engagement

Sticks out like a sore...

If my typing is a bit off over the next week or so, it's because I sliced off a chunk of my thumb Saturday.

Nothing too major - just took a piece out of the ball. It's bandaged up and it will heal eventually. I bled like a stuck pig, though. Amazing how difficult it is to do things wihtout a thumb, even when it's on the non-dominant hand...

yet another post?

I thought Lore Sjoberg put this very well. ('Course it fits pretty well with my worldview, so I suppose it's natural I like it.)

"Most of my friends and many of my family members range somewhere from confirmed atheists to very casually religious folks, with the odd practicing pagan thrown into the mix. So it was somewhat startling, two days in a row, to hear God invoked in a very serious manner. Not as a sort of nebulous source of the divine, but as a male being with a son who has some very specific plans for you after you die."

This little piggy went to the internet

fionnbharro questioned my use of "bleeding like a stuck pig" yesterday. He'd always heard it as "squealing..." and not unreasonably opined that this version made more sense.

So, here are some preliminary Google results. ( Why yes, I *am* a logophile )