Quick hits

I'm not done exercising, by a long way. Next week will be hell, but I'll sleep in my own bed. I can see the cardboard sign: "Will do ATP-45(b) plots and VLSTRACK 3.1 fans for food."

Toad has a date for surgery, to knit the roof of his mouth together. He can propel himself toward the cat food bowl.

Mlle Sklodovska is making progress with physical therapy to improve her balance and posture. But she's not getting what she needs in the G&T department. Barbaloot checked out some books on how we need to handle her, and I'm reading the best she found.

Boy is calming down a bit, but Mlle Sklodovska's occupational therapist suggests we'll be sending him to her too.

Firstborn is, as Professor Henry Jones puts it, "becoming interesting."

Several friends from my days in the cable industry have surfaced again, wondering what I've been up to. I tell them I'm staying out. This is probably permanent. The package is going in for 179 days for next fiscal year, and Prairie AFB is asking me to transfer to AF Reserve and serve them as an Individual Mobilization Augmentee. As long as it remains more of a challenge than drudgery.