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per amica silentia lunae

or, across the ferny brae with the evil voodoo celt

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It's Friday!
Last weekend we went up to the cabin... what with FSG and medical stuff, it had been more than a month. All was well, though... one of our neighbors up there has been doing some work for us, so the back deck was halfway reconstructed, which made getting in a little interesting, but still it was good. Mostly slacked off, though we had to make a town run because we didn't have enough dog food up there (oh, the... caninity!).

It was a little fraught getting to my neurologist appointment, because the online Metrobus schedules lied to me (surprise!) and I had to take a cab. Got there OK, though... my neurologist is very frank and straightforward, and seems very competent- my regular doc knows and approves of him, and by a coincidence he was the neurologist who treated Dad when he had his TIAs. Long story short: nothing came up on the EEG or other tests; 1/3 of cases like mine never have a recurrence, 1/3 have a couple of recurrences and then nothing, 1/3 develop into a seizure disorder; there's no point in starting any drugs right now. He wants me to have a 48-hour ambulatory EEG... this will be in early August, and I'm kind of looking forward to coming in to work with electrodes on. ;-)

Poor Mungo had to deal with another thunderstorm while I was working at home on Weds. I sat with him and fed him a treat at each boom, but he was still messed up by the experience. I think he needs some doggy Xanax, so it's time for a vet appointment...

Still reading "Subterranean Cities"; still interesting, still want to slap the author. Finished "A Deepness in the Sky"... highly recommended- hard SF with good characterization, well-drawn aliens, and some great plot twists. I then read Charles Stross's "Down on the Farm" as a palate cleanser- a novella in the "Laundry Files" series, and great fun. Now I'm re-reading "A Feast for Crows" to refresh my memory for "A Dance with Dragons".

Thunder walks among the houses,
A dark-robed sky lord,
Strobe-flashes its herald
And lashing rain-sheets its banners;
Storms are summer's knights,
Sparing no thought for us,
Common folk below them.