Remembrance and Reacquaintance

 As things have headed towards the direction of normal this past month or so, One has become reacquainted with one's old nemesis - The Deadline. The strangeness of one's past year means that The Deadline is not being wielded by Supervisor Grand Chief K but by one's latest supervisor - Sis (is a Tales Name change to Supervisor Sis perchance required?)

In any case The Deadline has kept one busy with work in the form of rapid iterations of system changes to keep up with the current environment, and a multitude of projects lurching back to life as society does much the same.

So, while all this has been taking one's attention there have been a couple of other things for one's attention.

Remembrance came up on the first anniversary of The Tiger's passing. Salsa Girl, Hulk and I took the time to say a few words of what we missed of her and how a year without her in the household had been. We then commenced scattering a pinch of her ashes in all of her favourite places - various nooks about the garden, the couch, the arms of the couch, the kitchen bench, atop One's head, and so on. Those who know her should know that we shall be round to your place to scatter ashes on, and in, your gaming bag, and upon your coat that rested upon that chair and couldn't be retrieved from under her for hours that one time.

Reacquaintance came in the form of a multi-day visit from Grandma J - the first since one's birthday soiree. We reacquainted ourselves with feasting, chatting, and the delightful sound of a joyful child being run through her night-time routine by someone other than ourselves.

Coming soon is a reacquaintance with going in to an actual workplace rather than simply staggering up to one's computer desk in naught but a shirt.
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Fluffy. 13 Sep 2002 to 7 Nov 2019

So this has been a harder post for one to write than most of the pontifications one one has espoused over the years.

More than a week has passed since the sad day of the passing of one's feline companion - The Tiger. - whom one began taking temporary care of for Svetlana for just a few months back in 2005 and when the plan for shipping overseas fell through, well that was okay.

She of the fluffy physique had surpassed 17 years (nigh 85 in human servant years) and appeared to be going strong - albeit a little older and creakier with less leaping, more snoozing, and a splash of missed litter tray action - when all of a sudden one afternoon she took a turn for extreme lethargy with occasional whinging and not much interest in food.

One sat up with her overnight and she had started drinking a bit of water so in one's naive hope it seemed like it might have been a temporary illness thing - especially when she moved in for one of her infamous lap sits complete with evil eye of "don't you dare try to get up".

Lap sit complete with evil eye.

However in the morning she became more and more listless and at the end One was patting her and talking to her for what turned out to be the final 5 minutes until, after some toe scrunching responses to One's attentions,  she had a big stretch and released her last breath.

It hit One harder than One would have thought but I guess a 15 year companion does get intertwined in your heart - mayhap there was a dash of Stockholm Syndrome involved - and I seemed to have an immediate allergic reaction to her passing complete with watering eyes and constricted throat.


Salsa Girl, Hulk and I said our goodbyes over the course of the morning and are now trying to get used to the empty Fluffy space in our house and our routines.

• No longer is the morning trip down the stairs greeted by a raised head and mew of inquiry.
• No longer will one be trapped under a sleeping feline and forced to watch hours of b-grade scifi and fantasy.
• No longer shall one be woken in the night by mysterious banshee screeching.
• No longer will small children fear to enter our home.
• No longer will some of those children that do enter go missing.
• No longer will she participate in gaming nights 

Gaming nights are great for finding warm places to sleep.

• No longer will she wind and weft around the legs of anyone in the kitchen.
• No longer will the house thrum to the thudding scampers up and down the hallway.
• No longer will she be found sleeping in strange places - on top of posts, in egg carton lids, in her freshly changed litter, on any single sheet of paper left out, Salsa Girl's ankles, atop a lego construction,over the corner of the coffee table...
• No longer will our residence be rife with the fear of leaving a water glass unattended.
• No longer will one have to wait for her inspections to complete before continuing with any task that involves moving furniture or opening cupboards.
• No longer will anyone lying down on the couch be greeted with the "here's a bum" manoeuvre.
• No longer will the Vet quake in fear and lay in extra stocks of band aids before her visits.
• No longer will such deep purring be emitted from simple patting and stroking. 
• No longer will those little paws reach out in delight or those eyes go squinty with the pleasure of a chin scratch.

In her younger days - sleeping in a fruit basket.

Farewell Fluffy, you kept me sane when I was a single man living on my own, and then seemed to set out to balance the ledger once you became surrounded by family.

You shall be missed and have left your mark upon me. Several of them in fact.
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17 of the Beast

Last Friday - the thirteenth - was the occasion of the seventeenth birthday of The Tiger.

Now in her equivalent of 84 servant years The Tiger has started to show signs of her graceful age.

She has become a little hard of hearing, which allows One to sometimes sneak through the room without being accosted for more canned food.

She is moving a little more gingerly - seemingly having to save up her leaping energy for only once every hour or two.

She is forever hungry (although see below) and has taken to scavenging around busy kitchen feet like a hyena - despite the regular crushing of her fluffunimous tail.

She seems to have lost all her different demanding screeches in favour of only the "give me canned food now!" demonic yowl. This leads to the situation where she thinks, "I say I would really love to curl up on a lap right now" and then screeches at us "give me canned food now!" then looks askance at the canned food provided in response and proceeds to screech at us "give me canned food now!". This goes on until One sits down in disgust whereupon one of the saved-up leaps is rapidly used and one is trapped under a sleeping kitty for hours.

She is having a little trouble squatting in the litter and so we have had to artificially raise the wall heights around the edge to reduce the frequency of "flooding".

She has decided that rules about what surfaces she can stroll across and what vessels she can eat or drink from are no longer in need of even passing deference.

Still,  all in all, she's definitely worth having around the house because we all know pets have an effect on your stress levels.
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The Tiger Ticks On

So yesterday was the day that 80 of The Tiger's years ticked by - that's 16 of your Earth years.

It was celebrated with many allowances being made:

• An allowance for extra canned food distribution
• An allowance for an extra-long Hulk-bedtime-delaying brushing session on One's lap
• An allowance for staying on the dining table
• An allowance for drinking from the glass of water on said dining table
• An allowance for sleeping on the special pillows

And according to BestFriendSincePrep we have to do it all again in a couple of months as the 81st Tiger year ticks by...

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The 76 Year Old Feline

So yesterday was the grandiose occasion of the most esteemed anniversary of the day of birth of The Tiger. Yes, she of the most voluminous fluff, has deigned to allow us to recognise her fifteenth year with appropriate celebrations.

There were extra servings of food and less yellings of "be though quiet" in the morning.

The evening included the traditional second dinner of premium food - thus setting up the traditional six month expectation of second dinner.

And as it was a gaming evening it was The Tiger's choice of game for the evening.
Thus many games of Inside/Outside the door were played, as well as a rousing round of Grab, Lick, Lick, Lick, Bite, after which one shall be seeing the appropriate medical professionals today.

All in all we believe she had a most enjoyable day and looks forward to terrorising all and sundry as year 16 uncurls and stretches out.
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When the Girl's're Away ...

... one obviously starts to have a problem with the proper commission of the apostrophe.
     (apologies to Devil's Advocate & LittleBigGirl for the pain the title caused)


In any case, with Salsa Girl and Hulk off north visiting Grandma J it is time for one to cut loose.

Yes that's right, it's time for a three day frenzy of sans-pants partying, mad gaming madness, and other general hullabaloo!

The Tiger shall be hiding in the furthest reaches of the household to escape the non-stop party action engulfing the household.

Wooo! Yeah! PAARRTTTEEEEEEEE!


Although... perhaps one might instead just indulge in one's first sleep-in for nigh on two years.
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Significant Things

So, a couple of significant things have occurred lately.

The first is Anniversary the Fourth betwixt Salsa Girl and oneself. This fell a week or so back and we celebrated with babysitting and an evening out at a local eating establishment.
There was much congratulations on having reached our Fruit and Flowers milestone (if you prefer the modern ones that would be diamonds - it's all diamonds in the modern list) and other mushy stuff that one's manly continence cannot bear to repeat.


The second is the birthday of the infamous The Tiger this weekend just passed. She has turned a sprightly twelve years of age. According to the one cat age calendar I bothered to consult that would place her at 65 human years - although I doubt many humans would still scamper after balls of paper across the floor at that age.
The day after her birthday was full of repeated pleas for daily doses of that special food that she received so eagerly on her birthday.

This was very unlike Salsa Girl who merely wanted more of that anniversarial dining out and massage stuff that she received so eagerly.
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New Year, Same Old Tales

So, you would think that being on holidays would provide plenty of time for crafting The Tales. However a plethora of emphatically good reasons that this is not, in fact, so can be provided - amongst them are home improvements and heat waves.

You might also then think that a return to work would herald forth a return to regular postings.

Alas it appears that neither situation has any bearing on one’s ability to find time for crafting Tales to the high standards expected by one's discerning audience.

Therefore it appears that in order to steer this great ship back onto the rails and fly high once more I shall have to scrap any grand plans for holiday updates and look only forwards.


As compensation, in the spirit of the Internet done right, here is a pictorial depiction of what happens when a chronically under-brushed The Tiger meets an impending heat wave.






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A Conference Caution

Ordinarily a conference located on the Gold Coast would be an occasion for carefree abandon, joyous socialising, bountiful food and drink, and lastly some actual conference stuff.

However one's recent experience has proven to be one rife with moments requiring caution.


It all starts out fine, deciding on what apparel will be appropriate for the tropical-ish clime and planning many a walk or perhaps even a float in the ocean.
However the Caution here is: October may prove to be a stormy time up North and you may find your early arrival provides only stormy weather and hence only a hotel room to be experienced in comfort.

If one does venture out for a walk one rather rapidly discovers the tacky and touristy bent of the location and ends wondering about the usefulness of an early arrival to see the sites.


Of course the ever popular LibraryLand cocktails are a point towards said early arrival. (One does feel there is no need to Caution about the nature of the "cocktails" in question given my multitude of posts bemoaning this terrible bait and switch).


The conference events [proper were got (gotten?, gut?) underway with the traditional bus tour to local libraries. Somehow despite ones best attempts at punctuality one arrived in the foyer to find the bus loaded and the roll call underway. I do, however maintain that I was on time as it took a further 3 minutes to reach my name on the roll call.

The sessions themselves began the next day and one was reminded of one's long neglected need to upgrade one's eyeglasses - having to sit at the front and still squint away at the gigantic screen. Perhaps the projector was not focused correctly?


The first full day ended with a bus trip to dinner at the CUB Brewery. I swear that there was dinner involved, honest.
So the night passed in a blur with highlights including the discovery of a CUB dark beer, a beer pulling competition, the discovery of a secret stash of Fat Yak beer, educating fellow librarians about the "one of each desert" rule, an unstoppable chorus of return bus trip librarians singing wheels on the bus with hearty gusto, and settling in for an innocent post dinner drink.

It was at the post dinner drink that my naive innocence was taken advantage of - and fellow workmate Supervisor S failed in her duty of care to keep one safe. One was talked into the importance of the organisation having a strong executive and the relative lack of effort required of the presidential position. Need I Caution you to pay no heed to late night arm twisting?

So of course at the election the next morning one won. And, take note, one's main talker-into-er was not elected to the committee!!
One smells a conspiracy of the highest order.


With the conference finishing up one was treated to the first glimpse of the benefits of power as a corporate car was used for the luxurious journey to the airport terminus.


In contrast the flight was a rather uncomfortable hot and sticky affair with the aeroplane kept at a sweltering 32 degrees - perhaps to acclimatise us all to the Melbourne weather we were flying back into?

Anyway, after braving the chilly 13 degree tarmac walk one was soon bustled home in a taxi and ready to fall into the long awaited post midnight slumber.

The Tiger, however had other ideas and one was forced to provide a lap for nigh on half an hour before being allowed to retire to one's bed chamber.

Such are the events of an incautious conference experience.
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Hulk versus Amoeba the Epic Struggle

So, last Friday was the long awaited celebration of Amoeba's longevity.

One was caught somewhat in the dilemma between attendance and one's paternal duties to young Hulk and her needs various - it being bath night and all that that entails.

Hulk, however, had other ideas. Upon this great struggle of one's mind she decide to unleash her special Technicolour Yawn attack with it's amazingly quick re-use time, and alas the Epic Struggle was over in a rush.

It was quite a shame to miss the event as from all accounts nobody can really remember what happened so it must have been fantastic. Also, I had, after uncounted interrupted nights sleep, been thinking of gifting The Tiger to Amoeba to get her crazy feline collection off to a most fitting start. I guess that will have to wait now.


Of course, due to her genetic heritage, Hulk went over the top and managed to effect both Salsa Girl and oneself with her special attack. Being the gentleman I am I took the bullet for Salsa Girl who has only suffered mildly while I believe one may have suffered some rib damage from the whole messy affair.

All in all, not a recommended way to have a few days off work.

At all.
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A Moving Time

So we have mostly* finished the move into our new demesne.
         (* for values of mostly that include dozens of boxes still unpacked)

And I have finally unpacked the box that contained The Tales and so I am able to blow the dust off and recommence my commitment to regularly Blog once more.

Obviously it may take a little time to establish one's posting rhythm again - hmm, unless one chooses bimonthly as ones new frequency.


Some of the plethora of things that have whizzed by in these short two months of silence include, in sort of chronological order (imagine long and witty posts about each of these, if you will):

• many many hours of box packing activities and fending off repeated suggestions from Salsa Girl along the lines of "you could just throw out that bottle top" when it obviously has sentimental value.
• many hours of unpacking The Tiger from said packing boxes
• a gaming session at Gavman's new demesne
• the horror and panic of finding that Google had decided to close Google reader. Luckily Fantomas was on the case and things are happily humming along on Feedly these days.
• Hulk making the transition to her new cot
• a gadget upgrade and modernisation courtesy of work - the downside being the expectation that work will be done on work devices
• a mostly regular return to gaming at the hands of Badger with Fantomas, Pirate Dave, and Legion2 rounding out the party.
• the scary issues of mortgage documents going missing in the mail and much scrambling to create a replacement set in time
• news that Fantomas would forsake gaming for romance in a move to far distant realms of the city - pod person replacement is suspected - however the formulation of wresting back the hosting began at this moment
• inspections of the new place including obligatory revealing of heretofore unseen marks and stains
• drop by attacks on FridgePower, Judge Mingus, and their cohort
• a settlement day free of problems
• 2 dad's and a moving day both Handy Frank and Doctor David proving their worth
• the debut of The Gaming Garage as a venue for, well, gaming actually
• patching up the old place in preparation for becoming a bloody landlord
• introducing The Tiger to her new courtyard lifestyle
• quite a few hard settling nights as Hulk put her newly learned resistance skills into practise
• bidding a happy farewell to Supervisor Grand Chief K and Big J as they head OS (separately) leaving the rest of us to run amuck with the library service

to be continued . . .

New Year, New Publishing Schedule

So I've finally managed to fulfil that promise to myself and change my publishing schedule.
The problem seems to be that I have moved it the wrong way. Sigh - three weeks.

Still it was the feast-ive season and one did have an awful lot of feast-iveness to attend to.
The work side of things was quite the herculean task, given that one has four workplaces at which to put in a good showing and the overall council soiree.

On the home front I did have help from Salsa Girl and Hulk although I did buckle up (buckle down?) and shoulder the majority of the consummative workload - not one, nor two, but three Xmas's''''!!
And all of them part of Hulk's first Xmas, and therefore requiring extra levels of celebration.


Amongst all that was the traditional migration northward for the seeing in of the New Year. This year was seen in from bed, counting down the last seconds then promptly off with the lights and giving in to the fatigue. Thank you Hulk for that change to our partying style - one may never be the last to leave again.


Speaking of traditions, one normally does some sort of roundup of the year in gaming and the general quality of The Tales. However as one has been on gaming hiatus for several quarters now (baring some Internet ancients sparing with Young Jim) and one also failed to out post FridgePower or even pass the half-century and the fact that it has become quite late and Hulk threatens to cut short ones slumber yet again (if The Tiger does not beat her to it) one had better get to bed rather than wallow in trifling statistics.

See you all in another regularly scheduled three weeks.
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I'm gonna have to send you back to Sleep School.

So it turns out that Sidekick Searching takes up a lot of one's time. When you throw in a last minute vacancy for a stay at Sleep School it's almost a given that the lauded regularity of The Tales is going to be the first thing to suffer.

I didn't even have time to send you of my quick review of Prelude to Foundation by Isaac Asimov - an okay read in his sparse style that sets the scene for his earlier Foundation series with a mild adventure romp across a planet-wide city.

So, Sleep School was an interesting four days.
Yours truly was able to regain bachelorhood for two of the days, including a triumphant return to Tuesday Knights in a game running under the tyrannical hand of Badger. Fantomas, Pirate Dave and Legion2 were one's companions for that experience.
One night was spent in an ineffectual men's group that one had volunteered for but was aimed at men who wouldn't be involved in all that baby stuff. I wasn't even asked to talk about myself until walking out the door in the last minute.

After the group the evening was spent trying to sleep in the bedlam environment of distant screaming from the other attendees. Our Hulk was, of course, perfectly well behaved (and the cutest one there).

The whole experience was beneficial for Salsa Girl and Hulk but unfortunately not miraculous as there is still some hard work to be done to get sleep happening in the afternoon and evening - even if we are blessed with long overnight sleeps.


After the past few mornings I am now seeking admission to the Sleep School program for The Tiger as she seems to think that 4.30 am is an acceptable time to rouse the rest of the household.
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Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

There is one thing one quite dislikes and that is when either ArchEnemy or DragonMim is right. Naturally it is a step up in magnitude when both "gentlemen" are proven correct.

Both of them made sure to tell me that there would be much less time for frivolous undertakings such as The Tales once young Hulk made good her arrival. It turns out that they are correct as the last near-month has seen a cascade of Hulk-related happenings that have conspired to all be more important than finding the time to communicate here.
Foremost amongst these is a troublesome back complaint developed by Salsa Girl that has led to one stepping up and shouldering one's fair share of the baby load. Additionally there have been some sleep difficulties and a resultant attendance at sleep school (one is rather disappointed to have found out that falling asleep in class is not worth extra credit).
This has flowed on to a squeeze on work time made paradoxically worse (or is that ironically) by involvement in the recruitment process for one's sidekick as finally seen necessary by Supervisor Grand Chief K given all the work one is supposed to be doing.


Of course it is even worse when our two villains are correct twice over as has happened with them both welcoming and warning me about life surrounded by girls.
Having had one's rugged lone wolf-ism suffer under the triple pressures of Salsa Girl's girlishness, Hulk's daughterage, and The Tiger's petulant big sister like antics I can only grudgingly admit to the aforementioned duo's correctness.



But in this instance one is thrice cursed with having to admit to the rightness of the spoutings of the twin curmudgeons in the most painful way.

Having finished reading Ready Player One just the other day I have to say that they were both eminently correct about it being a great little pseudo cyberpunk tale that delved wonderfully into eighties film and game culture.

I give it four stars and shall never speak of their correctness again.
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The Towers of Midnight by "Brian"* Sanderson

Firstly before I get to today's agenda let me apologise for the recent lack of posting.
I have suffered through a small bought of man-cold (not after all, it turns out, the Swan Flu that Big J is grappling with) and have been occupied for the rest of my time alternating between Baby Whispering and Cat Shouting - possibly getting it mixed up at inappropriate times much to Hulk and The Tiger's chagrin.

Now onto today's agenda. Let me apologise for once again mentioning the Wheel o' Tedium books but breathe easy in knowing that we are almost there with this being the penultimate volume. It does appear that Mr Sanderson has been true to his word and is wrapping up the story in three books rather than the 14 or so that Robert Jordan's outline would have lead him to write.

So well done Brian* in writing a volume that moves the story on upon multiple fronts and finally feels like it will actually all come to a head in the next volume. I award it 6 Dune prequels.


* name changed to protect the innocent and not at all to annoy nit-picking Nurse Nige who I have no need of annoying especially since the great "Feargal Sharkey's Best Song" debate of '01 - "You Little Thief" indeed!
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The Tiger's Tenth

So Thursday last was the momentous occasion of The Tiger reaching her decade milestone.

One marked the event by providing a feast of special premium food, ample lap sitting opportunities, and copious brushing.

The downside of this - and here I Caution you - was that, continuing to this day, The Tiger has unmet expectations for an ongoing continuance of such pampering. One has already received several gouging reminders of one's failure to attend to the grand dame in the now mandatory manner.

So the end result is that these days, when I'm cautiously limping about the flat I'm constantly thinking of ways to make The Tiger's second decade better than all that has come before. Such is the price of loving companionship...
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Hulk - The Early Weeks

When one began composing this post it was rather naively entitles - Hulk, the Early Days.

Well since then the piecemeal nature at which one was able to add ones brilliant thoughts to the draft had made me believe that I was looking at having to re title it as - Hulk. Year One. While one would surely have enjoyed basking in the kudos this would have brought from such graphical story telling literati as Zombie Monkey and The Real Greg Dean, it has eventuated that my deadline has stretched out to mere weeks.

In any case many are the things that have occurred during the early days weeks of the time of Hulk.

One has been head down in reading materials wide and sundry - finishing long bookmark-laden tomes and making visible progress on one's to-be-read stacks, various. In fact all but the nigh insurmountable penultimate Wheel of Tedium volume have fallen beneath the scythe of my reading gaze.

One has had occasion to watch many a late night movie and has begun filling in may of the glaring holes in ones experience of the past few decades cinema. For example one now knows that Tom Hanks gets off the island.

One has even managed to make some small steps of progress in ones gaming projects in a way that may even make Fantomas believe that they could become real when one next attends the Tuesday Knights.

One has had several meetings in passing with Salsa Girl and even shared several meals.

Of course there has been some time spent with young Hulk. Why we've had special daddy-daughter time watching the mighty pies (and another team that looks similar but seems to have lost the mighty bit).

Hulk unable to bear the skill errors.

We also tried our hand at bonding over some solo gaming - managing to see off those pesky Persians at Thermopylae and winning the Battle of the Five Armies for the Orcs.

There have been visit from relatives various, a handful of friends, and late night hallucinations of the interesting kind.

As predicted by FridgePower one has been able to indulge in the ancient art of poo smearing - although much of the training I undertook cleaning up after The Tiger has gone to waste as there has been a suspicious lack of any positing (the nice word for baby vomiting) particularly of the furball kind.

In amongst all this Legion2 and the BrotherStealer have seen fit to try and steal my hard-earned spotlight by delivering their second a full six weeks early. One can only be glad that Freeloading Mum and Handy Dad have been away all this time so there would be no unseemly squabbling for the favour that is rightfully mine.

In any case this disjointed report has brought you up to date with the trials and tribulations we have been undergoing for the past few days weeks.

It only gets easier from here they tell me.

And then they snigger.
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Hulk's Grand Entrance

So things have finally settled down a bit and I can do my duty by you all - my patient readers.

Word may have gotten about in the rumoresque sense that Hulk has finally made good her appearance in the flesh and right into the middle of Salsa Girl and my world, putting a rather abrupt end to my laid-back paternity leave holiday time.

It was an eventful event full of eventualities so sit back and listen carefully as I regale you with the tale of Hulk's Grand Entrance.


Our story begins in the early hours of Thursday past when my beloved Salsa Girl was awakened by the gentle actions of her body vigorously preparing itself for what was to come later that day. Naturally we thought little of it having been in a state of disbelief about the whole pregnancy thing for several weeks by that stage. Still, to humour everyone, we went for our regular scheduled hospital appointment and cafeteria lunch in the early afternoon. Even then as we tried to play along midwives various told us it was nothing, could stop any moment, and that we should head home and let them know if anything interesting develops.

Well.

Once we were home it did become quite interesting in short order. So interesting that one even forgot to partake of the evening meal which is an essential meal on account of, well,  being a meal.

Anyway, eventually one's expert supportiveness was no longer enough so we made the decision to head into the Family Birth Centre for the professional supportiveness on offer at that most excellent venue - not to mention the free meals and other assorted bonuses like double beds for partner rest, couches for partner rest, and shower facilities for partner use.

After much fiddle-fallying we managed to make the move and had ourselves installed in our assigned room shortly before midnight. It wasn't long before Salsa Girl decided to avail herself of the amenities by taking a dip in the pool and then retiring to our room's private bathroom for a nice hot shower.

It wasn't very much longer after that that Hulk burst onto the scene.

There followed a blurred several hours of follow-up activity including much cuddling and bonding with the newly emerged Hulk. We were so stunned that we took some time to come up with the moniker with which to dub her and, worse by far, almost forgot to partake of breakfast!

Here's a Caution for you all: if you take a lazy, It'll come to us, approach to naming your progeny you may find that said child can go almost a whole day without any nomenclature other than Baby of Salsa Girl. A terrible situation, I'm sure you'll agree as it in no way reflects one's input into the whole process.


After the usual couple of days enjoying the room service and other facilities, visits from family, and just generally letting it all sink in, we made the short journey home to get little Hulk slotted into the smooth running of our flat.


As the passing days (it may be weeks now, one has somewhat lost track) have since proven it appears that Hulk is the one making the flat slot in around herself. Why, even The Tiger has conceded defeat and relocated to the depths of the study - although i a show of defiance she is using the change table as a sleeping platform.


Family have made quite a few welcome visits and we are muddling our way through even though one's Googling has failed to find the instruction manual.


Oh. Hark! Duty calls once more with it's dulcet ear-splitting tones so I'll post this and get back to you when I once again attain some free time...
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Xmas Parties, Various

One has spent the past several days getting well and truly into the Xmas spirit - well the feasting side of it at least, the rest shall have to come later.

It all began on Friday with the very important end of year Xmas lunch for the user group at our suppliers headquarters. Once again the user group insisted on holding a meeting beforehand, but finally after several hours drawn-out with productivity we were treated in the manner to which we have become accustomed over the years. Many were in attendance - Supervisor Grand Chief K even put in an appearance to make sure that I received my just desserts.

After waddling home I was soon off to another evening of food and cards at the Double Jays with Salsa Girl by my side. The feasting was not too excessive there as I had an unexpected feeling of fullness part-way through the meal. Sigh, there's always next time I guess.


Saturday was the big event. The Library Xmas Party.

This years soiree was being hosted by Kiwichick (who's husband lucked out on not being able to use the get out of party card he earned by attending last years event). The catering was done by many with Days of our Libraries having many a hand in the comestibles.

The night did include a rather embarrassing tribute to the recent Facebook relationship-status change of the good Salsa Girl and oneself, replete with gifts unasked for but appreciated greatly - especially by The Tiger who commenced sleeping on our new serving dish the moment it was revealed to her.



The latest Xmas partying occurred when Salsa Girl and I made the trek to the family demesne to celebrate Freeloading Mum's birthday. There was a dash of Xmas thrown in due to known Xmas day absences. A magnificent feast was on offer, including 5 desserts (which only count as 3 as one mixed several into the same bowl).
There was rather a lot of post feast tiredness to be dealt with on return home before getting the evening meal squared away.


In unrelated news, one's past month of increased exercise regime appears to be having no effect at all.
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Holiday Haze

So it transpires that when one is on holidays for weeks at a time things such as, say updating one's blog, actually become harder to make happen.

The very astute of you may have noticed that The Tales has been rather quiet for the month of October and much of this month as well. So quiet in fact as to have been non-existent. Well, as of this post, one is rectifying that oversight.

Such a lot has happened that one's usual highly-enjoyable ramblings could well go on for many a page and exhaust even the staunchest fan's endurance. Therefore I shall recount the happenings in bullet point style in order to regain somewhat of a regular posting style.

One has been through:

• the horror of a Grand Final loss endured with The Great Sandro fretting that a lead of 40 points could be lost in the final 2 minutes of the game while Legion2 and I tried to accept our tragic loss. This understandably took away one's will to blog for many days afterwards.

• the horror of putting myself through yet another of the The Viking Hat GM's fiendish D&D days. Albeit made easier by being held at Exploding Ninja Pony's new awesome Man-Cave (or Geek-Grotto if you are one of those pedants who prefers accuracy).This understandably took away one's will to blog for many days afterwards.

• the horror of realising that accepting Salsa Girl's Facebook declaration of our engaging situation announced it both far and wide and that "Facebook Friends" do indeed see what you display there. This one nearly confirmed one's Facebook shyness.

• the horror of another training day with free morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea . . . wait that one wasn't so bad. Understandably one was too bloated on returning home to conduct any blogging.

• the horror of having to set up one's new computer after the old faithful failed to respond at all. Of course this one made it rather difficult to get blogging done.

• the horror of realising that holding our sixth annual Absent Friends card day meant that we've been without an old friend for more than half a decade...

• the horror of yet another interstate conference junket with the threat of too many LibraryLand cocktails looming over one's head. Even Gamer Phil from an adjacent library service running gamer games in the evening couldn't help one from having many a drink thrust into one's hands (and yes, I do have to drink them). Still I managed to come through okay - at least from what I remember...

• the horror of another of our card tournaments where my cards refused to shuffle up in any sort of normal distribution pattern.

• the horror of a planning training morning timed to end before lunch so we can all head back to work! This one had me distraught for days and unable to commit any blogging activity.

• the horror of going to Geelong for another conference and, well, being in Geelong. The hotel gave me a room overlooking the stadium of the team that had so recently defeated one's Magpies and the trauma returned blotting out any thoughts of blogging.

• the horror of an afternoon under The Bastard's control in yet another irregular game. Maybe I shouldn't accept all these offers...

• the horror of ... ahem, the bliss of a week away down the coast with Salsa Girl. Time spent reading. playing Rummy, walking along beaches and cliffs. One did make an attempt to blog in the peace and quiet but that bX-1fv8xl error did in my mobile posting ambitions.

• the horror of a feline neglected for a week that decides the attention it is due shall be collected at 4am. Sleep deprivation makes one decidedly low in motivation to think up another of one's brilliant blog postings and high in motivation for disciplining The Tiger.

• the horror of BestFriendSincePrep abandoning one to make an international move of a few years and support his wife's career. Really, where was my opportunity to have a say in this decision?

• the twin horrors of a day of Gaming at the State Library (organised by Gamer Phil) followed by a regular Sunday's gaming. So many games to choose from, such little time...

• the horror of realising one has only a week remaining of one's holiday before having to dive into that mound of email and meeting invites.

• the horror of facing up to the construction of a huge update to the sadly neglected Tales. This one, especially, made it hard to get any blogging done.

Phew.

Regular service shall resume shortly.

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