If you belonged to the notify list, you’d already know that I walked just under 21 miles on Friday, limped into camp, took a shower and was headed for the food when I gracefully stumbled over my own feet and twisted my left ankle. And since there was going to be no more walking in BitchyLand, I came home, where I sat with my poor ankle elevated and called for Fred and the spud to do my bidding.

"Farm boy, fetch me some ice! Farm boy, fetch me a diet coke, chop-chop!" rang throughout the household. And there was tons of whining and moaning and bitching about how much my ass muscles and calves and hamstrings and, basically, every muscle in my body hurt.

Ah, the joy that is living with me…

Anyway, the ankle’s feeling much better, and I’ve taken the one roll of film I used up at the 3Day (though technically for me, I guess it was a 1Day) to be developed, so there’ll be no more entries until I get those entries put up, hopefully before the end of the week.

And now I’m off to read and sit with my ankle elevated, and demand that Fred wait on me hand and foot.