The cold is currently blowing in. Farewell, our summer weather. (Didn't use the AC last night, woke up sweaty this morning. Give me a day or two and I know I'll be moaning Cold so cold ohh it's so cold. But thus autumn, always.)

My physio, as is the habit of physios everywhere, on checking my exercises says Ur doing it rong. Clamshells are to be done slooowly, and held for three seconds each time. This makes my morning pre-breakfast pre-walking exercise sessions interminable. But if it works...

I hope Wishart isn't going to develop Patterns, where it's the unsuspected Nice Guy who's always the villain. Like Cadfael, where it's always the smooth charming young man. Of course I'm reading them so fast that I can't remember who dun it in the second last one I read. No matter. Marcus Aurelius is on his way to me-- may even make it to the library in time for the Monday holiday-- and that should provide a change of pace.