Pierson-Smythe bowled O Dinga nought in the Royal Test Match, Duhammel posted a first place finish in both races of the Laguna Seca, Seabiscuit finished by a nose over Daddy's Girl and Some Like It Hoarse, and in International Glacier Racing today, Ireland's 1229-B just edged out the French-sponsored 4802-GH in a record time of 1,393 hours, 47 minutes, 5 seconds in the English Channel Point-To-Point Sprint. Congratulations Ireland! Have a Guiness on me.
Oh, and Irrelephant has mildly bulging discs from L-3 to S-1 or so, and no nerve pinching, so in essence the mileage is starting to show. No more heavy lifting for me, which is going to take me right out of the competitive world of International Glacier Racing.
Speaking of--part of my problem has got to be cats that won't move. Last night (or this morning, to split temporal hairs, and with so few hours left in the year, why not?) I awoke with not one but THREE cats securing me to the bed. I felt like one of those specimen butterflies you see at the Nature Museum, carefully stuck to boards by long silver pins, only my pins were hot, furry, and not particularly inclined to move. Delilah was firmly anchored along my left leg, from mid-calf to upper thigh (when she lays around the house, she lays around the house,) Agaku was at her accustomed Queen Spot (meatloafed square in the middle of my chest) and Babel, my sweet psychotic angel was tucked between my chest and my right arm.
The worst part of this? I had to go pee, and it's no mean feat to get up when you've got a bad back and thirty pounds of sleeping cat hither and yon. I got two of the three moved or bowled elsewhere, but Babel sleeps like me--OUT, and getting her to move is about like, well, about like internationally racing icebergs--you really can't be in a rush about it. But, patiently I got her to scoot up enough that I could get the covers out from under her, and things proceeded as normal. Returning to bed I had just enough time to lie down before I was pinned again.
At least they aren't dogs.