Nov. 24th, 2010

Break Week

Nov. 24th, 2010 10:38 am
stoutfellow: Joker (Joker)
After a thundersome night, it's a cold wet day. I lost my umbrella a while back and haven't replaced it yet, so I'm afraid the dogs will have to go without their walk today.

Break week has been relaxing and utterly unproductive. I'm about 2/3 of the way through the Erickson, and I've begun reading Agatha Heterodyne and the Chapel of Bones on the side. I should probably also try to finish off Salonika this week. (I'm eager to begin reading The Linguistics of Punctuation, but I usually don't have two non-fiction books going at once. When I do, I tend to neglect one or the other.)

One of the drawbacks of learning to cook new things is coming to be dissatisfied with store-bought versions. I've already ruled out store-bought spaghetti dinners; now it looks like apple pie will also have to go on the blacklist. ("I can do better than this. I've done better than this!") For a sloth like myself, though, it becomes a serious contest between convenience and quality.

It's been a while since I've posted any mathematical content. The Ramble, I must admit, is defunct. (I got about as far as I intended to, but I did leave a few things hanging.) I also never got around to finishing the series on topology. Mea culpa. I do have an idea or two for some possibly interesting posts, but they'll have to marinate a while.

Still watching Farscape; next up is "The Way We Weren't", which is an excruciating episode. (Good, but painful.) Seeing them in order does give a better sense of the sweep of things. I'm hearing good things about a British series, Misfits; I'll have to look into ways of viewing it. (I'll probably wind up waiting for the DVDs to come out.)

Ah, well. Back to the nongrind.
stoutfellow: (Three)
A dog's life is not an easy one.

A few minutes ago, I went into the kitchen for a snack. Naturally, both dogs followed me. After I ate, I gave them each a snack, which they wolfed down. I went into the dining room and knelt to pet them. Gracie stood up and put her paws on my chest. Buster started wagging his head confusedly; he wasn't sure which was more interesting - me, Gracie's butt, or the food dish.

He finally settled on the food dish. I feel vaguely insulted, but relieved that he didn't go for the third option.

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