Sunday

I gave the dog a bath today.

Or at least, I did the best I could with a bucket of warm water, the garden hose, and a bottle of pet shampoo. Tucker seemed to genuinely enjoy the brushing that followed the bath, removing a lot of shed fur, and he seemed more or less resigned to getting wet initially, but he was not pleased by the bath itself. But he looks and smells a lot better now, so I think it was definitely worth it.

Other than that, I spent the day mostly like yesterday, only more Sundayish than Saturdayesque. I did the Sunday crossword, which was kind of blah. I read some Kaleidotrope slush again, thinking idly about looking for a slush reader to do it instead of me — even though, quite honestly, I don’t know that I’m at that level, and I wouldn’t know what sort of guidelines to offer a reader. (I reject a lot more than I accept, but usually not because it’s completely off the mark from what I want.) And I watched a couple of episodes of The Killing. It’s an okay show; I like that it’s slow and deliberate, although that’s in danger of becoming boring, a show left spinning its wheels, piling on the shocking but not at all game-changing twists each week. Still, I’m enjoying it.

That was Sunday, such as it was.