The angle at which his foot is twisted almost makes it look like it's someone else's foot! I'm sure his bowleggedness has something to do with it. (And it kinda makes me concerned that he'll have joint problems later in life. A lot of bowlegged people do, as I understand it.)

Fic . . . yeah, fic hasn't been doin' it for me recently. Not even with the writing. 'Cause Musey has certainly had an idea or two, but when I ask her to please write something, she goes, "Meh. *shrug*"

Haven't even been in the mood to crochet recently. I'm trying to do a market bag, and it's turning out okay, but it's not really what I was having in mind.

Speaking of crochet critters, you've seen my little creepy crochet critters that I have a pattern book for, yes? (They're in my LJ crochet gallery.)

In the meantime, there are actual real books I could be reading. I got the paperback of Jim Beaver's Life's That Way this weekend. He's a great wordsmith, and I'm looking forward to the book, but I know I'm gonna cry. Carl Hiaasen's new book is out, too. That one will make me wish I was reading it seaside. And I've got the angel book my mom lent me, Angels Dark and Light. Which is a good read, but I'm up to the part about Lucifer and the fallen angels, and I haven't really gotten up the gumption to read that yet.

Anyway, I've got plenty to keep me busy. It's just . . . I spend so much time by myself and in my own head that it's starting to get to me.