j030609 (imported)
June 9, 2003
Turns out all that soreness from Saturday was just a side-effect from from the anesthesia. I know; I Googled. I ended up taking one of the Tylox pills the doctor prescribed, which zoned me out for a while Saturday afternoon. I was just dandy yesterday, practically pain-free except for feeling bruised.
Oh, and speaking of feeling bruised…
That, by God, is a bruise. Picture taken just fifteen minutes ago on my back porch — I’m still wearing my stylish work clothes. Oh, if pictures of things like that offend you, please don’t look at the picture above.
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Spot:
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"Fancypants, you sit on the back of the chair, right where I want to sit." |
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Mr. FP:
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"Go away, boy. I am the fancy one." |
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Spot:
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"Look. Over there. Wouldn’t you rather lay on the kitty bed?" |
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Mr. FP:
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"I am fancy. Leave me be. " |
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Spot:
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"Don’t make me open a can of whoopass on you!" |
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Mr. FP:
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"Daddy? Daddy? Do you see with what I must put up?" |
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Spot:
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"Hi-ya! Oh, feeling dizzy, feeling confused… My God, it’s full of stars." |
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Mr. FP:
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"Look into my fancy green eyes." |
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Spot:
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"This is one fine kitty bed we have. I love the kitty bed." |
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Mr. FP:
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"Fear the fancy." |
Yesterday, I was in the library — the dining room, really, except we don’t have a big table or anything — playing with Miz Poo. We have a game, she and I, where I raise my arms high and make a hissing sound, and she goes all flat and tries to hide in a plastic bag. I generally then pick the bag up, with her in it, and swing her around.
Good fun is had by all.
Robyn wanted to take pictures and video, and so I was flailing around the room getting Miz Poo into a state. And then, then I brained myself on the big light pictured below. See, if we had a table, it would be under the light, but we don’t have a table and the bottom of the lamp is about an inch lower than the top of my head.
Upon closer inspection of the lamp — as I ruefully rubbed my head — I found a single hair poking out from between the little knob and the base of the lamp. It still had the root attached.
Ouch.
