Coffee break (TMI warning)

I decided to to go on a coffee fast, starting yesterday. Don't ask why - it's complicated. Though, yes... "because I'm crazy" would just about cover it.

Set up a perpetual pot of yogi tea as a readily available hot drink alternate. Expected the caffeine withdrawal head explosion with aphasia and ataxia (I've done this before (did I mention I'm crazy?)), but somehow managed to forget the other big physiological effect of coffee consumption. Fortunately, I didn't plan ahead well enough to remove the instant coffee from the vicinity of the kettle, and this morning I'd already made a cup of coffee and drunk half of it before I was awake enough to remember that I wasn't doing that any more... Quite soon, I remembered...

Now I'm wondering if I should keep one morning cup of laxative coffee in my daily routine.

SO many lesbian spammers...

or maybe they're just shy young women seeking a little motherly advice on how to dress for their body type :-D

(but switching to photo comments that take extra steps to delete - pooh)

Don't look at me!

5959 - a nice irregularly regular number.

Another profile view, and I'll have to work hard to see if I can push it towards 5678 or something...

Ten Thousand Millipedes!

Ten thousand* millipedes in the detached toilet block at work this morning. (Would that be a decapede? Why do they call them millipedes anyway? Shouldn't it be kilopedes? And while I'm at it, why "centipedes"? Shouldn't that be "eldritch horrors from the bowels of the earth"?)

Back in the main building, I found a stray one while mopping, too. There were probably as many there, but distributed throughout a larger space, so not as notable. Still, one, on the floor while I was mopping... I picked it up and, wondering what to do with it until I reach a convenient place to ditch it, considered putting it in my pocket. If I put all the millipedes in my pocket as I came across them, then when I got home I could play an interesting game of "guess how many millipedes in my pocket?" But I didn't - just held it curled in the palm of my hand until I reached the door, then tossed it out into the garden beds. Bo-o-o-o-oring... but it IS work, after all.

* Disclaimer: I didn't count them. I estimate the actual number to be somewhere between six and ten thousand and six.

Hurled myself at the ground

from a full-tilt run the other day...

Exhilarating! :-)

I'm glad it looked convincing, but I didn't mean to scare my fellow dancers. They don't know I've had breakfall training from a professional stuntman. I do confess, if I'd planned it more than a few seconds in advance, I'd have worn kneepads. Maybe wristguards, too. And by the time I'd kitted up, I'd have probably funked out. Their concern had me second-guessing whether the move was bold or foolhardy. Probably both. It was the *perfect* move for the development of the theme I was playing with, and going for it with that sense of immediacy really made it work. I did have an alternate trajectory in mind for if it felt wrong (I could have hit the back wall instead, or even just stopped dead, remaining standing), but in the moment I felt ice-cold clarity as to how I needed to arrange myself to land safely. So I stuttered with one foot and dived.

Because there was more that I was doing after that, I didn't really analyse the landing at the time. The concern of the observers prompted me to pay close attention afterwards, though, and after several days I conclude that I landed it extremely well. No wrist/forearm issues at all; minor soft tissue injury to one leg. When I say minor, I mean if I wasn't looking for it I wouldn't have noticed it. Slight swelling and tenderness with pressure above the knee. Which is good - means I landed forearms and thighs. Much safer than hands and knees - good form even though I wasn't thinking it through in such fine detail.

So, now... practice. I've recently decided it's time to get back into some more "formal" practice. What I think of as formal may not be what other people think when I say that... I have a mental image that's as clear as the image I had of the dive the moment before I did it. Now all I have to do is analyse it well enough to be able to explain it to a potential teacher. *rolls eyes*

Season's

sentiments ;-)

youtu.be/6XGkkdaAabQ

Needling

I never wanted a pony for Christmas.
Nor a pink dress with ruffles and bows and lace
or even that doll with the blinking eyes
that drank from a bottle and wee'd.

All I really wanted was a sewing basket.

I could see how that disappointed you
as you stood in the toy shop
gazing at that doll.

But was it so dreadful a thing that you had to say
"Why can't she just be normal?"


[ image via hyena-in-petticoats -- www.flickr.com/photos/pap...2067654829/ ]