This afternoon, I feel like I am truly, finally, on the mend. The past five days are pretty much a blur of dentistry, wooziness, snot, Kleenex, fever, aches, and elderberry extract. And, as the mucosal curtain parts, allowing me once more to gaze upon the chaos of my life and to at least think about work, I realize that I am even further behind. And I did not think that would be possible. It's like some really bad joke, being this far behind. Needless to say, the remainder of February will be spent on Sirenia Digest #27, that I might yet be able to get it out on time.

There's really not much to be said about the last few days. I slept a lot. Spooky read me Lemony Snicket's The Horrid Hospital and most of The Carnivorous Carnival (though I rudely slept through much of the latter). We watched a lot of Angel (finished Season Two, started Season Three, yay Fred!). I began reading Ronald Rainger's biography of paleontologist Henry Fairfield Osborn, An Agenda for Antiquity (1991). Friday night, we watched Steve Buscemi's Interview (2007), which I liked quite a lot, and a collection of Pixar short films. Other than the aches and pains, that's most of what I recall about the past five days.

My grateful thanks to the new Sirenia Digest subscribers and to everyone who bid in the most recent round of eBay auctions. A new round began yesterday.

The big news around here is that Spooky's sister, Stephanie, has given birth to a seven-pound, nine-ounce baby boy, Miles Frederick. We are aunts! However, since Steph lives way off in Brooklyn, no telling how long until we actually get to see the squirt in person. Word is, "he's perfect and has very long toes."

I think maybe I need to lie down again now, and stick on a few more Tiger Balm patches, but first another photograph of Hubero. He's taken to sleeping curled upon on the little altar table in Spooky's workroom, and seems not the least bit ashamed of being such a damned stereotype: