Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

I've got a Homespun Ceilidh Band gig tonight, and I need to drop by my mother's house. Trying to get ready for the gig in time to see Mom on the way to it. Also trying not to push myself so hard that I wind up being too tired or achy to play well at the gig. Balance, balance, ...

Perrine is in a pounce-and-swat mood, grabbing at ankles (though I often see her dart under something to hide, so I know to leap aside as she lunges when I walk past her hiding place ... which doesn't help when I'm walking up the stairs and fail to notice that she's looking through the bannister waiting for my scalp to come in range). So far she's been good about not using claws on my head. She's also been trying to get me to chase her a lot. Sometimes I have the energy, sometimes I don't.

One of anniemal's cats will walk on my back and perch on my hip when I'm reclining on the sofa. I need to teach Perrine to walk on me and massage my sore muscles with her paws.

Is it just my mailbox, or did the spammers go completely nuts everywhere between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day? I got like four days worth of spam each day. (I'm not sure whether today continues the pattern yet.)

Occasionally something makes me think of Sherlock Holmes' hypothesis that the mind can only store a certain amount of information. Like when I forget the gas constant for the umpteenth time and have to recalculate it (starting from "22.4 l/mole @ STP" and working backwards to absolute zero). More recently it was when I stepped on a bowtie, looked at it, and couldn't remember whether it was for VHF, UHF, or both. (Hey, I grew up with, and still mostly use, rabbit ears and a loop. The bowtie is about the same size as the loop, but it's in two halves. I'll Google for it later.)

Okay, enough rest. TIme to pack a change of clothes, put on my kilt, make sure I've got the directions with me, and start driving.