I am nearly finished with painting the Giant. I actually would have been finished twenty or thirty minutes ago, but I got curious as to how my fantasy basketball teams finished this week and spent some time setting my rosters for the upcoming week. Once I got that finished, I hopped on over to The Miniatures Page to see if there were any new threads to read. After that I started thinking about how it would be nice to have a little change of pace from painting Warhammer stuff, so I pulled out my Reaper Warlord army lists to see which army I'm closest to having all of the miniatures for. Unfortunately, I'm not all that close on any of them. I may just do a small project in between the Giant and the Clanrat Slaves, perhaps I'll paint up the bartender and serving wenches for my Pirate Tavern. So I put off finishing the Giant to do all that. And really, I've been ignoring the project altogether for the last couple of days. I've been caught up in vision of a car project that I'd like to do someday. Of course, without money, tools, or a garage to work in I'm not likely to be starting it for another few years. By that time I'll be 30 and probably won't have any time for a project. But it's nice to daydream about sometimes.

For a little painting motivation I pulled all of my painted miniatures today to look at them and feel a sense of accomplishment and pride in the work I've already done. I pulled the Imperial Priest that I painted for my 40K Sisters of Battle army out and put him back on the painting desk as I am still very unhappy with his power sword. I'm going to have another go at painting it using some techniques from the current White Dwarf issue.

We have some new neigbors moving in next door. The people with the awful little Miniature Pinschers moved out and apparently sold the trailer to someone else. Last night the husband decided to do some home improvement from 3 AM to 7 AM, complete with power tools and lots of hammering. I guess he thought, "Hey, I'm in my trailer, so no one can hear me." Unforunately, he hasn't realized that living in a trailer park is sort of like living in an apartment. The walls are paper thin, and people can hear everything you do. I am reluctant to do any complaining about noise, though, as our Basset Hound is a loud individual in his own right. It wouldn't really be a problem, but no one in the trailer park is supposed to have dogs over 30 pounds. Our Lab is something like 85 pounds and our Basset Hound is probably 55 pounds now. The park manager is a crochety old biznatch who hates young couples, and she has threatened that if anyone complains about our dogs we're out of the park.