Back from the chiropractor

Well, my chiropractor—a candidate for sainthood if ever there was one, at least in my mind—has worked his magic. My heart breaks for Richard III, living in an age without chiropractors; mine was fascinated to learn that R3 had scoliosis like me. These mishaps are all too common with me; to make a bad joke, my back goes out more than Lindsey Lohen. I’d hoped to be able to continue my post about William the Conqueror’s sons, but Coeur de Lion is having none of that, for he has his heart set on laying siege to Nottingham Castle today. After his unpleasant sojourn in Germany, he is really in the mood to hit someone, preferably with a sword. And since I’ve learned that life is more peaceful when I let him have his way, I am delaying the post until tomorrow and we’re launching an attack on Nottingham.