Spent most of the weekend digging up Dad's drive so he can have it widened in readiness for his new motorhome. This, combined with helping Syd the Builder concrete the floor of the extension and the daily 6 to 3 grind has left me bloody knackered. S'odd, really, but being physically knackered has left me too drained to sit down and write. Which is a bit frustrating really as I have at least three good ideas to nail, and another story - 'The Uinta Incident' - to expand.
Reading 'Last Breath' by Peter Stark. Excellent book. It charts the body and mind as the last breaths are taken, more often than not by sportsmen and women pursuing extremes in human endurance. I bought it for a quid in Llandudno and that act of spontaneous fiscal abandon has been amply rewarded. Like . . . Did you know that more people die every year of attacks by moose than sharks? Shark attacks only account for 8 deaths a year while Bullwinkle kills 9, the horrid beast. 4 people a year are killed by mustelids, usually pet ferrets killing unguarded infants. Snakes top the list with 9000 deaths a year. Although this pales into insignificance when compared to the 1,000, 000 human deaths a year attributable to homo sapiens. And did you know that in the 1920s they injected malaria into syphilus patients' frontal lobes as the resulting malarial fever cooked and killed the syphilus? Yeah, I know, you really needed to know that, right?
Jill's got tonsilitis. Again. This is the 4th time this year. Like bloomin' great golf balls wedged in the back of her throat, they are. Surely they'll be taken out soon, despite our GP's assertion that they're best left alone. She sees a specialist in a little over a month.
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