Whew. What the hell happened on Thanksgiving? Shitted if I know, considering the 9 bottles of wine we drank and bottle and a half of scotch. Luckily, I haven't had a drop since then.

Rrrrright.

It was quite lovely to fill our home with friends from all different walks: I, Dara, Tard, Kate and Eric and Raleigh, Mike, and Danny pounded down the food as though it might have been our last chance to eat a bird that can't fly. And really, that's ridiculous, considering how much easier they are to catch than the flying variety. Maybe that's why we don't have raven for Thanksgiving.

Something else to be thankful for: We planted 8 shrubs in our yard! At last, it doesn't look like a nuclear blast leveled everything back there. Actually, it looks as though an atomic bomb was dropped and someone planted 8 shrubs, but at least we're out of the starting blocks.

What else? I'm feeling funky today - port wine last night, and that crap stays with you like herpes - so I'm grogged out. Barely have done a lick of work (thanks Troy, you prick bastard) and am watching the clock....tick........................................tock.

I tweaked my ankle on a trail run Saturday. It's not anything severe, but I might take off tomorrow from running as to not exasterbate it, although big dummy head here ran 6.5 miles on Sunday. I guess since it doesn't hurt any worse it's okay, so perhaps cutting down mileage during the week would be a pleasant act to do for my body.

Busy end o' the week:Thursday is the open house at IPSB, Friday I get the color in my tat, and Saturday Javiers installs the sprinkler heads.