Ordering six tons of assorted patio stone to be delivered to ones house is surpisingly satisfying, if somewhat expensive.

Digging out a hole (by hand) for a 150 gallon water pond is, not surprisingly, not much fun, yet slightly satisfying, in the way that physical exhaustion can sometimes be.

That I spend my vacation days from work doing such things is downright depressing, yet strangely satisfying. I've become one of those guys. Shit. Cool.

Poker is still treating me well. I won a little over £200 in a NL MTT at InterPoker over the weekend. Which was sweet, but, being the dumb monkey I sometimes am, I didn't realize just exactly how sweet it was. See, umm, I get pounds and euros jumbled in my head. I know the difference but for some reason I mentally convert pounds at the same rate, roughly, that euros convert at. I don't know why I do this. It even comes up somewhat regularly in my day job and I still do it. Long story short, I won even more money than I originally thought.

Today somehow became Omaha day. Not sure why, really, but I started playing 2/4 Omaha at Pacific and did pretty well, so I hopped onto Party for an early morning Omaha Hi/Lo MTT. Annoyingly enough, I bubbled out at 11th. It was one of those annoying bubbles, too, as people kept going all-in but managed to quarter the low, etc., to barely stay alive. It looked like I would coast into the money but my cards dried up and craziness ensued and I went out 11th. Meh.

I made up for it, though, in a $30 NL MTT. I joined on a whim, mainly to avoid having to go back to digging up the backyard. I told myself that I'd press hard early and either build a big stack or bust out so I could go back to my chores. Thirty minutes or so in I was in the BB with Q 10 and two people limped in. Flop comes Q 10 4, rainbow. First guy pushes all-in, next guy insta-calls, and I sit there thinking, hmm, one of those guys likely has a set, I'll need help, I should just fold...and of course I call. Turn out both guys had sets (10s and 4s) but I catch a Q on the river for the boat, to much deserved bitching and moaning.

It was one of those strange tournaments when my cards held up and I kept catching just enough to stay averaged stacked, or slightly below. Never caught any monsters but kept winning with medium pocket pairs like 9s, 10s, etc. I ended up 17th or so, pocketing $180 bucks. Went out when it was do or die time, calling all-in with AJo. The guy who pushed has A9s and of course catches the nine on the flop, and that was that. Such is life.

Omaha is a baffling game. I mean, aside from the play itself, I just don't understand who the fish are that play Omaha and where they come from. I'm pretty fishy myself, but I've been consistently pulling money out of the limit Omaha games for the past two months. PL Omaha is a different story, and I still get my clock cleaned there, but the limit games, good lord. How do these people stumble into a 2/4 Omaha Hi game where they see every single flop, for the better part of an hour, dropping 200-300 bucks? I mean, dude, I know you've got something in those four starting cards, but you have to have something, when you start with four cards. I'm glad you're sitting at my table but how the bajebus did you find your way here? How can it be fun for you to sit here, see every flop, and bleed money away as fast as you can hit the call button?