The outrageous winds of early April are again outrageous this year, and how could they be else, given climate change and condos downtown? To add to the misery of wind gusts to 70 kmh, the outfit that replaced my flat last week did it in such a way that the wheel rubs against the brake pad and squeals. Maybe I shouldn't have them tune the bike after all.

Why am I always stiffer after a massage? Tonight I can barely walk.

Once again the dates fall on the same days as in 1996, and today is the Wednesday I came back to grey sleety comfortless Toronto from Japan. But the days and dates were also the same in 1985, and so I can finally remember the date of my father's death which has eluded me for close to 35 years. Friday April 5, not the 4th and not a Saturday. Felt like it, because it was Good Friday and hence a holiday.

Have read virtually nothing this week. Two early Sayers, when Peter was a first class twit- Whose Body, where he's eminently slappable and his mother is horrible; and The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, which has the line I thought was in Christie, about 'good servants never knock.' They just sashay into your bedroom as you're fapping off to the porn of your choice, and never turn a hair. Can't read anymore Wimsey. Even in Bellona he's being recast as St Peter.

I have An Unkindness of Magicians on the go, in paper after the ebook completely confused me with the ungendered names. Still not sure I really want to be reading such very unlikable people. I manage to get a bit farther with City of Brass until a Napoleonic Egyptian girl says 'I can relate' and then the book loses me again. Started an omnibus edition of the Katy books, particularly What Katy Did at School, because that was a fave when I was 13 or so, but can't take it now. Something very fantoddy about it, and I Would Rather Not. Mind, April in certain avatars will fantod anything, especially when the cold sun and blue skies yield to the warm and grey, which will be happening soon.