Hospital Blues

I had a stellar game of Runebound lined up for 7 o'clock this morning. I woke up, actually I hardly slept a wink due to lack of alchohol and a midnight addiction to In Our Time, and went to thumb scan in at the school. Riding back in glee for an impending game, upon arrival my wife said she was sick and had to go to hospital. Argh!

All is well. It's flu, and Grace who I picked up at 3:30 and took her to see her mum, then got sick too, with a temperature and is staying the night there too.

I got home and attempted to make the best of this dreadful day.

Some beer, Jimi Hendrix and PaulWeller can raise my spirits.

I'm also almost sitting on 12 beautifully painted kobolds.

I'm so in love with Bron/Broen, I'm not sure what to do.

Nuclear Throne dominates my PC game time. How if I could reach there!

My ereader broke. I am broken. I was venturing into ancient Fafhred and Gray Mouser tales lost from memory. I had just reached the edge of my mind. Fafhred taken down to some undersea kingdom, where some horrible giant octopus lifted some spell which sent the water crashing in as Fafherd escapes to join the Gray Mouser on the sloop, all others drowned. I must secure a replacement, so I can continue on the astral adventures of these heroes.

World News? No.