Oof.

This weekend, I learned that:

• At least half my artistic temperament comes from my dad's family.
• Trigger points are miserable things indeed. Ow. Ow.
• I'm not the only weirdo in my family.
• Nor am I the only one with Fibromyalgia. Genetic link, anyone?
  
• Milk is tasty, but does yucky things. Pleh!
• Good Indian food is worth any amount of pleh.

I'm glad to be back to editing, all told. I've got a huge stack of knitting to do now, which is a bit annoying, but it'll keep me busy for a long time. Going to edit myself blind this week, get some of the house cleaned up, and hope my back (ow, ow) has loosened up in time for Conestoga this weekend. If anyone's planning to go, look for the weirdo knitting the light blue shawl or the bizarre garter stitch scarf. The shawl might be a bit too complicated to take with me.

Getting back to editing now. Then, we load the dishwasher. UGH. Are men genetically incapable of doing housework before leaving town for two weeks? I came back to a nightmare, and that's not an exaggeration.