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12 days of much-needed R&R.
The Last Day of Vacation
The last day of vacation is overcast and damp. The roof has leaked a little overnight even though Mr Wiggins tried to fix it weeks ago. It is quiet this morning and for the first time in twelve days I'm up before nine.
Today is Anzac Day, memorialising those Australian and New Zealand soldiers who died at Gallipoli during WWI. The day has a solemn cast that is somewhat fitting to the last day of vacation, although its significance is much greater. People will have been up earlier than I, for dawn memorial services. We have caught a few moments of slow marching WWII veterans in this year's parade in the city.
Mr Wiggins and I very unceremoniously were instead at King's Comics, where we had a bunch of stuff signed (mostly Teen Titans, along with Infinite Crisis issue #1) by Geoff Johns and Phil Jimenez. They were extremely personable and friendly, and chatted with us, asking questions as they signed their names with fumy silver sharpie pens. We geeked out with them for a few minutes, blaming our friend M for our newly formed comic book addiction. It was a good fanboy/ fangirl moment. Kudos to Johns & Jimenez both for their enjoyable writing on Infinite Crisis and for being such charming gents in person.
The time off I just had was everything I needed. Despite any mawkishness about the last day of vacation, I don't feel unprepared for returning to work. I rested, I worked on my own projects, I caught up on a boatload of laundry, and I feel good.
I also played. Oblivion, specifically. That was a really addictive game until recently. I invested so much affection for my character, learning new skills and running around harvesting different types of plants for my alchemy experiments, that when it got to a disturbing and more dangerous part of the main story plot, I chickened out and stopped playing (I assure you, this strange effect will be only temporary). Here is a picture of my character, Snow. She is a witch hunter, of the Bretons. She likes long walks on the beach, throwing fireballs at goblins, and is an associate of the Mage's Guild.
Monday was Mr Wiggins' birthday, so we went on a birthday shopping spree and had dinner and an evening at the pub with friends. Mr Wiggins has not had a great history for birthdays, so this year's laid back event was the cat's pajamas for him. His health situation is still somewhat up in the air, but the neurosurgeon has confirmed the syrinx is asymptomatic. The good news of that is that it will only need a yearly MRI to monitor it. The bad news is twofold: we still don't know what's causing his weird symptoms, and he can't go scuba diving anymore. If he should get a nitrogen bubble inside the syrinx it would mean instant parapalegia. This is a particular bummer for the two of us, because although we both share an enthusiasm for diving, we have never had the opportunity to do it together. It looks like we now never will. But we can still snorkel the Great Barrier Reef someday (I hope).