...See, I rode my big penny-farthing to the BlogMeet.
A very nice Meet it was, too, with The Jack, Roberta X, Fuzzy Curmudgeon, Don, Tam, Old Grouch and Joanna all present an accounted for, or any way, as accounted-for as any of us could be. Don brought Genuine Red Beans (yay!), Old Grouch gave me an 815 (tube of choice for robot constructors, though for form rather than function -- it's a dual power tetrode, good through VHF, thank you, thank you), and we discussed the merits of living near a swamp (hardly any, though the skeeters do keep the buzzards under control and it's a great place to dump experiments gone wrong). Plus Tam got a hint that her Care Package was nearing delivery stage.
And plenty of other good talk, too. You should'a been there! Plenty of fine pub grub, as well.
But how'm I a fool? I rode there hoping the ride would clear my lungs better than a day and a half abed had. Fair tuckered out, and then had to ride back, in the fast-darkening and already-cooling evening air. Which was something like breathing broken glass. (Withal, the highwheel bike does bring smiles to faces and cause little children to crow with delight. Not quite a sovereign remedy but it helps.)
So I'm for bed. Took some fancy fixitall cold potion Tam had laying around (yes, yes, we really are Pratchett characters!) and I'm for bed already.
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