Rosie got her stitches out this morning. The vet says Rosie appears to be recovering at the right rate, putting her foot down every step when she walks slowly. Next check up is scheduled for the end of July.
And here’s a photo of Bonnie, who was shaved a couple of weeks ago. Her fur has already grown back quite a bit, but the shaving has left her looking more brown than black.
And here are Rosie and Bonnie participating in one of their favourite activities – sleeping in sunshine.
You can sign the War of the Worlds/Tom Cruise Boycott petition here.
Of course, I still sorta want to see ‘Batman Begins’…Oh well…
[via andrea]
These cashew snacks are totally addictive.
I don’t know what Mrs. May is putting in them that makes them so yummy, but I’ve been going up to Costco on a weekly basis on the vague self-deceiving notion that it’s worth a little detour to get less expensive petrol. However, upon discovering that Costco were out of stock of these tiny nuggets of nutty heaven, I was forced into the realisation that the less-expensive petrol was not the true lure.
And now here I am, stuck at my desk working late, a poor cashewless snacker with nothing to munch on. It’s a sad day indeed.
Discovery of the day: arnica gel is magic.
I bought some from a pharmacy this morning, after my Mum and riding buddies recommended it for the big bruise on my hip. I got a value pack that came with little homeopathic beads, which I have been taking as instructed.
Barely 10 hours later and my bruise has already visible dissipated, and the pain has definitely subsided.
Yay for Arnica – it helps the healing process go that much faster.
Of course, even better would be if I could stop getting hurt in the first place.
Earlier this month, when we had friends and relatives in town for Billie’s wedding, I led a small expedition down to South Congress to experience First Thursday.
First Thursday is an Austin tradition, in which the businesses along South Congress stay open late and people gather in the streets, window shopping and watching the world go by from the bars and restaurants.
The street was crowded with people, wandering up and down the length of the road, meandering through stalls and congregating around boisterous musicians. We stopped at Guero’s for a couple of drinks before venturing out to see what else South Congress had to offer.
The mad banjo player was our favourite. For the rest of the evening, in fact, for the rest of the visit, we took turns mimicking the crazed banjo player, exclaiming at random intervals ‘with a wah wah WAH!’.
(These links are for my little sis Lennie – or for those us who endeavour to understand her & her generation ;o)
I have a large, purpling bruise on the inside of my left calf. It is about 10cm long and 4cm across at it’s widest point. It is tender to touch.
I also have two round purple bruises on my right leg, each about the size of a quarter, one below the knee cap and one on the inside of joint. They are sore too.
I don’t remember bashing myself during Urban Assault. They’re not beer bruises. I don’t bruise particularly easily. So how did the bruises get there? Surely I should remember something that has left me with such sizeable aftermath?
