Down for the Count

Ya ain't so young no more, hon! Something catches up with me yesterday—perhaps my frantic schedule, or maybe something blew into my lentil soup—but whatever it is, I spend the day feeling like I've been run over by a truck. It is a day I can ill-afford to lose, as I still have tons of work to do, but fretting won't make me get better faster. So Nadine and I curl up under a blanket and whimper pathetically when Gill gets home. (Actually, I whimper; Nadine meows.)

Another perspective: I'm not sure I entirely agree with Charles Jacobs' article, because it still doesn't explain the sheer virulence of the media attacks on Israel, but at least it's a start to understanding where the double-standard comes from.

Lump alert! Nadine, already sporting a large lump on the inside of one meaty thigh, now has a new one. I want to rush her off to the vet immediately, but she and Gill gang up to veto that notion. I'll keep a careful watch on her, the poor lumpy darling!

It's raining! Thunderstorms move in during the night. By 16:00 this afternoon, the sky is already ominously dark. Everyone else grumbles about the rain, but I love it. In such a dry climate, every drop of moisture is precious.

Onward, onward...