I now have two half-written posts, one about health care reform and the other about representations of characters on book covers sitting in my drafts folder, and apparently I just don’t have the heart to even risk stirring up debate today, because I can’t make myself finish and post them. They’re topics near and dear to my heart, too, so it’s sad that I’m feeling so gun-shy.

So this is a mostly metrics post. I’ve only got 80ish miles to go to Minas Tirith, and I keep being appalled that it’s so close to the end of July, because it seems like there should be enough July left for me to get to Minas Tirith.

miles to Minas Tirith: 500.6
ytd wordcount: 195,000

“Space,” Ted said in his best deep voice, when I showed him this picture, “the Final Bustier!” I want one. :) (Hat-tip to (I just assumed it was Janne because it was Star Trek) for the link :))

miles to Minas Tirith: 14.8
ytd km swum: 19.5

It turns out the good reason to not have Pop Tarts for lunch was that Mom had made pea soup and I was waiting to have *that* for lunch. It was very good pea soup.

I had several funny–well, mildly amusing–ok, boring as hell–things to relate, but in the end I can tell they must’ve been boring because I can’t actually think of any of them now.

We stopped by Chapters in Dublin Saturday, where I signed the books they had there, so if anybody in Dublin needs a signed copy of any of my books, well. You know where to get them. And we saw Pádraig, to whom I had to confess forgetting his bookmarks yet again, in exchange for which he refused to give me the really very decent pen they’d lent me to sign the books with. :)

Oh thank goodness, it’s dinner time, I don’t have to try to think up anything clever now…

miles to Dunharrow: 123.5
ytd wordcount: 5900

ytd miles swum: 2
ytd wordcount: 215,700
miles to Minas Tirith: 514