In further 'cast not a clout' news, today was grey and windy and so cold I had to get out the winter coat and scarf and gloves. By the time I was finished with physio the sun was out and then the coat was too warm. Toronto, as ever.

Came home to a reminder to reregister for the Canadian Dental Plan which involved jumping through more hoops than I care to remember, but every step of the way involved entering yet another confirmation code. I think I racked up eight by the time I was finished, and wondered how dyslexic people manage this. The insult to injury part was that to set up an account with the program-- which I was sure I already had because how else would I have my current insurance?-- you need to register through a bank account. An online banking account. Which naturally everyone over the age of 80 has. And you need two ways to confirm your gov't account because just answering questions won't do. At least they weren't asking for biometric evidence, but one was a QR code, what I've never got the hang of, which also involves the cell phones that all seniors possess, and the second was a technical something I'd never even heard of. Managed it in the end but left a really snarky review when they were brazen enough to ask for it.  

And no, there was no option for a paper form of any description. My curse upon the shrivelled soul of the technocrat bureaucrat and their blinkered view of how the world operates.

In reading I probably finished more Priestleys and Merrions and kept on with When They Burned the Butterfly. Began the new Murderbot and eventually got out of the hard to follow (for me) descriptions of space stations and cargo modules and hoppers and what-all to the actual plot. This requires most of my attention so 100 Demons is on hold, at least as far as upstairs reading goes. Downstairs I'm still working my way through When They Burned the Butterfly aka 'life is cheap in the east' aka maybe modern day Singapore's police state isn't that bad after all. The body count of the various gangster orgs is really high, like war of attrition high. Maybe that was policy? Mind, since we've got gods and magic all through this, perhaps there never were gang wars in 60s Singapore.

Ebook library-wise I sent the unfinished The Burning Court back to the 'one person waiting' and hope they have a better time with it than I. I started dragging my feet when theses amateurs began talking about doing an unauthorised exhumation from which these amateurs would deduce whether Uncle was poisoned or not. Good luck, chaps. This is forensic medicine which none of you know. I have Emilie and the Hollow World to be going on with for phone reading in coffee shops, which we will see.