Today I sat about reading stuff on TheInformationSuperHighway, knitting a cosy for the coffee plunger, painting the horizontal trim on the third floor landing (not the door frames, because that would have caused too much strain on my injured bits), complaining a lot and icing my groin.

As I mentioned on twitter, icing the groin (with ice, not like a cake) is a lot more difficult than you’d imagine. It is really rather difficult to isolate the afflicted area and quite cold indeed.

The pain has not really eased up, despite the anti-inflamatories, so I’ll be seeking an appointment with RelentelesslyCheerfulPhysio tomorrow.

Damn!

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In other decluttering news, I managed to part with the art text book I’d bought at a charity shop – identical to the one I used for most of the 6 years I studied art in high school.

Growing up in a rural bogan hellhole in the 1980s, these teensy black and white plates were my only examples of actual art.

How I actually learned anything is a continuing mystery.