The yearly pruning of stuff, the purging of closets and ruthless throwing out of crap continues. I have a crumbling dressmaker's form about which I am conflicted.
Making bread this morning. Last time, the two-pound loaf didn't rise enough (although it tasted great, it was super-dense) so this time I used filtered water (not tap) and bread machine yeast (instead of regular) and I also pulsed the 7-grain cereal in the food processor. This loaf is already taller than its last-week-brother. Ah, the chemistry of baking.
Me analyzing every.single.thing. I'm putting on paper as I'm trying to write it is most decidedly not a good thing. Please to stop this now, brain.
(Also, any newcomers who'd like me to friend them back should feel free to introduce themselves!)
The SugarBean just turned to me (while we were watching Raiders of the Lost Ark) and muttered, "Snakes... I hate snakes."
She got it off the Mint Crisp M&M commercial, not the movie, but the timing was so perfect that I hurt myself laughing.
*roflmao*
Absolutely gorgeous. This Cirque du Soleil piece's theme is "Dreams of a Dying Clown". There were angels on wires and enormous helium balloons and a floating bicycle and! and! and!
The costumes... aaaaaaargle. *covet*
It was so good that the three-year-old was transfixed for the better part of a two hour show. Doesn't that just say it all?
Go. Go if you have the chance.
That said, I want to link to others who've furthered the discussion on "The Stolen Word":
The Comment Thread after the story (up to 129, as of this posting.)
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
myli_ny_sy posts on Historical Trauma.myli_ny_sy posts her deconstruction of "The Stolen Word" (there are spoilers in this.)ktempest discusses how it's never just a fairy tale.After sixty comments (some of which were posted under a pseudonym) I felt compelled to add:
My father-in-law bought a new one, and shipped us his old one, except the table was too small, so we had to buy a cabinet, which meant we had to redo all the wiring, which meant a lot of dusting and vacuuming and cursing and sneezing.
I took the cushions off the sofa and vacuumed out all the crumbs. And then I vacuumed the cushions. And then I put the throw pillows in the wash!
It's very pretty now. And very clean.
But now I want the rest of the house to be as clean-and-organized.
Booooooo.
On the upside, I sent my latest round of revisions back to My Lovely Editor and I will get back to work on yonder retrofuturistic NeoVictorian silliness. So Keffy and Sän don't come after me with lead pipes... *G*
melissajm started a very interesting I put pepper on cantaloupe, which is a habit I acquired from my maternal grandfather. He salts and peppers almost any kind of melon. Angel puts honey on his cantoloupe. Both of us think the other person is disgusting.
(Sidenote: cantaloupe makes my mouth itch, which makes me doubly-weird.)
My mother eats her favorite Jell-O salad (lime Jell-O, marshmallows, nuts and other assorted awfulness) with mayonnaise.
Your turn! *hee hee*
The tiny elementary school I attended always celebrated May Day on the first. Volunteer moms took home reels of sateen ribbon. I'd run the length out of little living and dining rooms with a pencil stuck through the reel and then SNIP! until we had piles of Maypole streamers, enough for two or three poles.
Everyone dressed up. There were poetry recitals and later, when I got old and bossy enough, short plays I adapted and directed. I believe my directorial debut was the scene from Laura Ingalls Wilder's On the Banks of Plum Creek when Nellie got the leeches on her legs. The next year was more ambitious... several scenes from Maeterlinck's The Blue Bird.
May was always the beginning of springtime activities at school... homemade tortillas for Cinco de Mayo, homemade paper and pressed flower projects for Mother's Day. Sitting here this morning, I can remember the smell of wild buttercups and purple lupine, and I'm eight or nine again, kicking my way through the wet grass, pretending to be Laura while sitting in a tree, bossing my friends and my younger sister around with my earliest of theatrical endeavors.
Favorite springtime memory?
I wonder how I'd do, driving that lap. My first car was a Triumph TR7 with stick shift and plaid interior... I have the feeling I'd rip it up. *G*
Whatever else, the word "rubbish" has crept into my vocabulary because of you.
Is it just me, or does Hammond look like Hugh Jackman??
For... um... research purposes.
And a trip on the Titanic. Fer shure.
I started to type in the LiveJournal handles of all the fine company I'm in over there and managed to crash my browser twice. But just on the short story list, I spy with my little eye half my flist.
I am determined to make this summer... more French.Late dinners on the patio. Pots of herbs. Chocolate croissants and chocolate mousse in little pots. I need to practice my vocabulary and verb conjugation, which gets much better with a glass of wine or three. *G*
If I had a pile of money laying about, the front lawn would get ripped out and replaced with a courtyard, stone pavers and fountain. Roses and lavender. And the lower lawn would have grapevines. Who needs grass?
Back into the oven it went on a cookie sheet until the cheese went gooey.
Yeah, we'll be making that again.
Rated PG for the use of the word "Buggeroff" as a proper noun, a constipated donkey and mockery of the movie Titanic, among other things.
(And in case you missed it last year, my Choose-Your-Own Adventure Story, "The Book Of Prophecies Proudly Presents...")
deedop thankfully reminded me that tomorrow is the 2nd Annual International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day.I haz prepared something with a hermit, a cat, a cruise ship, a constipated burro, and mockery of both the Titanic movie and religions that convert people door-to-door.
You have been warned!
I wished this upon us, saying to the husband only a week ago that the sunshine made me hinky when I was trying to get revisions done. That I work better in the hush that is gray days, drizzle, rain and yes, the snow.
Someone was listening.
*gets back to revising, so as not to appear unappreciative*
and send Keffy/kehrli to Clarion!
I met Keffy at the Rainforest Writers Retreat and now she's been accepted to Clarion (where she has promised to let me live vicariously through her when she meets Mr. Gaiman.) She's getting a double degree and already working four part-time jobs... let's not make her pay for this with the proverbial pound of flesh.
Head here to donate.
(Edited to keep things simple) Once you've made your donation, then come back and leave a note here to have your name entered in a future EYES LIKE STARS care package drawing... that will include the party favor bag with BPAL Imps, Pop Rocks chocolate, pirate rubber duck, silver fairy charm plus some sort of publishing goodie like an ARC. Please note this will not happen immediately, as I am still in the revision stage. US residents only, unless you're willing to split shipping with me!
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