Just finished reading Juliet, Naked (the latest from Nick Hornby) and really enjoyed it. It was certainly a much easier read than some of the other books I've consumed recently, and I both laughed and thought while reading it, a happy combination. A very strong contrast in tone to Destination: Void by Frank Herbert, which was chock full of weighty discussion on consciousness and the process of constructing it mechanically in an AI. Also lighter than Great Expectations, which was good but hard to get into because of the archaic language. Luckily I had the South Park version at the back of my mind to ease the visualisation process ;)
Just to prove my hopefulness of yesterday didn't jinx a return to winter...
I'd been meaning to take an ironic shot of the New Macgregor "lake" for some time, but the recurring rain was starting to make it less ironic all the time. A few weeks back there was a single puddle, and now it's grown to this astonishing waterway:
And this reminds me why I love where I live, only a short stroll and totally isolated from even the small resemblance of Canberra to a city:
The past week or so I've gained plenty of insight into the value of my regime the last year. I had obviously started to take my hard-won health somewhat for granted, and took a few liberties with my routine. The resulting key lessons:
1. three forkfuls of Indian food = 8 hours of severe stomach pain and several days of discomfort. 2. not going to bed at my usual time just once = getting slapped hard with fatigue for over a week.
Those may not sound like positive things, but what I've taken from them is the fact that my continued health is primarily determined by strict self-discipline. There are no miracle cures, or even perfectly effective drugs, for my chronic illnesses but by being a little careful, my quality of life remains high.
I still have some rebuilding to do from this latest slip, but luckily I excel at routine!
After a few days of inactivity, where I vainly hoped walking weather wasn't gone for the season ('cause I actually like walking) I summoned up my chutzpah (no, not an appropriate use of the word) and jumped back on my exercise bike yesterday. My knees managed to cope with several whole minutes and then I let discretion be my guide.
This evening I managed to drag myself away from Buffy Season 6 (no mean feat after having settled comfortably into my recliner) and boot up my Wii Fit, only to have every one of my rechargeable batteries fail me. Un(OK, marginally)deterred, I got back on the bike and doubled my Sunday effort.
Will I still be able to use my legs tomorrow? Probably, it wasn't that strenuous... oh, sorry, was that supposed to be suspenseful? Nonetheless, I hope to be yoga/stretch/stepping away on my Wii platform tomorrow, because 'tlooks like winter is here to stay, and Hamish and Andy podcasts, awesome as they are, will only get me through so many stationary bike rides.
This blog has been extremely quiet as a result of me feeling I have nothing new to say. I doubt anyone's keenly feeling the loss of my aimless complaining, and through judicious use of Twitter I'm ensuring those who use this blog as evidence of my pulse don't have to fear my disappearance.
Some people can talk about their job, but mine is strongly people-based, rather than tech-focused, making it impossible to cover anything meaningfully without horrible invasions of others' privacy.
Even I'm sick of writing about walking (although I continue to enjoy the actual activity itself).
My drawings, the only real evidence I have that I do anything other than watch DVDs, has a home in my other blog.
If I find a need for an alternative outlet, this will be the place I return, but until that happens I expect it will be sparse reading here, at best.