I feel so much better now

Spring training has begun for the Nationals, and as a last-minute morale booster comes word that Vegas thinks they're the worst team in baseball this year, with their odds of winning the World Series posted at 300-1...because the bookies don't like posting odds longer than 300-1. Makes the punters nervous, y'see. Oh, well. At least shortstop Felipe Lopez is keeping the tradition of hot baseball wives alive. She's a lot more attractive than the other Jennifer Lopez, imao. Also worth checking out are Chris' posts on the Gang of 13, the low-budget reclamation projects that could make the season more interesting than the bookies think, or could make it every bit as agonizing as the oddsmakers project it will be. That's what we play the games to find out. (Capitol Punishment)

I feel so much better now

Spring training has begun for the Nationals, and as a last-minute morale booster comes word that Vegas thinks they're the worst team in baseball this year, with their odds of winning the World Series posted at 300-1...because the bookies don't like posting odds longer than 300-1. Makes the punters nervous, y'see. Oh, well. At least shortstop Felipe Lopez is keeping the tradition of hot baseball wives alive. She's a lot more attractive than the other Jennifer Lopez, imao. Also worth checking out are Chris' posts on the Gang of 13, the low-budget reclamation projects that could make the season more interesting than the bookies think, or could make it every bit as agonizing as the oddsmakers project it will be. That's what we play the games to find out. (Capitol Punishment)

"It was all good until the French decided to retrieve the brassiere..."

Apparently this business of beer tent brawls at the Nijmegen March is an ongoing thing, as chronicled by Jimbo at Blackfive, who also includes other accounts of drunken beatdowns from around the world. (Jules Crittenden). My own experience covers only one evening in the beer tent at Nijmegen, but it was a doozy, featuring a female Swedish civil defense trooper with J-cups, the requisite drunken Brits, stupid Frenchmen, and sundry other NATO contingents who were bent on proving that the only people West Europeans hate worse than the Germans were the French.

Closer to home, I got a good night's sleep and woke up before the alarm in time to kill the radio before Garrison Keillor polluted my morning. Breakfast and lunch were prepared, and while I was doing that I also burned a new CD since the old ones are becoming dull from repetition - and besides, I wanted a disc with no sad or angsty songs on it.
( I think I came close. )

I'm happy with it; less so with the lunch. Last night's bread turned out a little too moist but at the same time too crumbly to make good sandwich bread, so I wound up mixing some tuna salad that I could eat with a fork. That was okay, though the eggs (done at the last minute) weren't completely hard-boiled and the onion flakes seem to have dried out the mix more than I would have liked. Ah, well, it's just fuel, but one prefers it to taste and feel better...and speaking of which, I should have buttered the bread. Next time I'll know better.

The legs continue to improve; the left leg has completely dried up, and the right leg is slowly healing. I'm going to pick up some of the J&J surgical sponges on the way home at Walgreens, and some of the Telfa non-stick pads as well since I'm nearly out of those. I was experiencing some twinges of pain in the right leg, but I smeared a mess of triple antibiotic on it this morning and that seems to have taken care of it.

Currently re-reading The Clan Corporate and The Killer Angels...and since the client isn't cooperating, I guess I'll do this the hard way.

"It was all good until the French decided to retrieve the brassiere..."

Apparently this business of beer tent brawls at the Nijmegen March is an ongoing thing, as chronicled by Jimbo at Blackfive, who also includes other accounts of drunken beatdowns from around the world. (Jules Crittenden). My own experience covers only one evening in the beer tent at Nijmegen, but it was a doozy, featuring a female Swedish civil defense trooper with J-cups, the requisite drunken Brits, stupid Frenchmen, and sundry other NATO contingents who were bent on proving that the only people West Europeans hate worse than the Germans were the French.

Closer to home, I got a good night's sleep and woke up before the alarm in time to kill the radio before Garrison Keillor polluted my morning. Breakfast and lunch were prepared, and while I was doing that I also burned a new CD since the old ones are becoming dull from repetition - and besides, I wanted a disc with no sad or angsty songs on it.
( I think I came close. )

I'm happy with it; less so with the lunch. Last night's bread turned out a little too moist but at the same time too crumbly to make good sandwich bread, so I wound up mixing some tuna salad that I could eat with a fork. That was okay, though the eggs (done at the last minute) weren't completely hard-boiled and the onion flakes seem to have dried out the mix more than I would have liked. Ah, well, it's just fuel, but one prefers it to taste and feel better...and speaking of which, I should have buttered the bread. Next time I'll know better.

The legs continue to improve; the left leg has completely dried up, and the right leg is slowly healing. I'm going to pick up some of the J&J surgical sponges on the way home at Walgreens, and some of the Telfa non-stick pads as well since I'm nearly out of those. I was experiencing some twinges of pain in the right leg, but I smeared a mess of triple antibiotic on it this morning and that seems to have taken care of it.

Currently re-reading The Clan Corporate and The Killer Angels...and since the client isn't cooperating, I guess I'll do this the hard way.

Relatively painless reappraisal

I got to thinking yesterday about Valentine's Day on account of windelina's post on the various kinds of non-romantic love. It set me to thinking about why I'm not bitter or maudlin about today; basically, this is a celebration of passion, and I don't feel that way about anyone right now. There's women I'm affectionate towards, but I don't have any interest in pursuing any of those relationships because I don't see them moving to the DC area with me, and I'm sure as hell not staying here.

Which brings up another area of my life that I'm going to be addressing over the next few months. P led the way on this, but truth to tell I've been mulling this over for a while: the reduction of my household goods to some quantity that fits fairly easily into a 19' U-haul, or better yet a panel truck. A lot of the books I have I could just as easily sell and replace once I get to wherever I'll be settling down, and I have a fair amount of other stuff that's just junk: empty CD cases, old paperwork and bills, clothing that hasn't fit me at any point in the last decade and isn't likely to in the next. So into the dumpster or off to Goodwill it goes, if I can't sell it for some fraction of its former worth. With any luck, by the time I'm done it won't cost me an arm and a leg to get moved.

Relatively painless reappraisal

I got to thinking yesterday about Valentine's Day on account of windelina's post on the various kinds of non-romantic love. It set me to thinking about why I'm not bitter or maudlin about today; basically, this is a celebration of passion, and I don't feel that way about anyone right now. There's women I'm affectionate towards, but I don't have any interest in pursuing any of those relationships because I don't see them moving to the DC area with me, and I'm sure as hell not staying here.

Which brings up another area of my life that I'm going to be addressing over the next few months. P led the way on this, but truth to tell I've been mulling this over for a while: the reduction of my household goods to some quantity that fits fairly easily into a 19' U-haul, or better yet a panel truck. A lot of the books I have I could just as easily sell and replace once I get to wherever I'll be settling down, and I have a fair amount of other stuff that's just junk: empty CD cases, old paperwork and bills, clothing that hasn't fit me at any point in the last decade and isn't likely to in the next. So into the dumpster or off to Goodwill it goes, if I can't sell it for some fraction of its former worth. With any luck, by the time I'm done it won't cost me an arm and a leg to get moved.