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damkiannaThis week has actually been pretty awesome. I did get some blisters from weed-pulling too much, but I get blisters from, like, walking down the street; I am a very blister-prone person. During crew season, man, I was basically making myself an entire pair of gloves out of hand-tape and bandaids. Good times.
Anyway. There were several close encounters with wildlife on Tuesday - three of these were relatively unexciting (three deer; one groundhog; half a dozen guinea fowl; all on various parts of the road as I drove places). The last - maybe it counts as the last two? I don't know - was considerably more thrilling.
So Mary Harris has a cat, right. Two cats, actually, but I've only ever managed to get relatively near one of them - Mocha, I believe, is his name. I was weeding, as I do, and saw him crossing the lawn with something in his mouth. I have two cats at home myself; cats wandering around with dead things, trying to find a good place to deposit them, is not an unknown sight. I resolved not to interfere unless the chipmunk Mocha was carrying showed some evidence of still being alive.
Yes, the chipmunk was very much still alive, as evinced by the dazed way it began bounding around as soon as Mocha set it down. He hadn't broken its back or anything; it was pretty much intact. So I ran down out of the garden, got between the cat and the chipmunk, and tried to figure out how to chase the chipmunk off the yard and into the forest while still keeping the cat away from it.
ME: Aha! I will make use of my handy weed bucket, which I forgot to set down when I came charging out here - I can herd the chipmunk into the bucket, and then take it back up to the garden with me. My plan is foolproof!
BUCKET: *is proffered up in front of a peculiarly unafraid - or maybe just dazed - chipmunk*
ME: *makes shooing motion behind chipmunk*
CHIPMUNK: AAH AAH CAT AAH NO WAY IN HELL AM I GOING IN THERE.
The chipmunk then decided that the obviously preferable option in this situation would be to run up my pantsleg. The outside, not the inside; the sensation was remarkably similar to the way it used to feel when my flying squirrel climbed me.
ME: HOLY SHIT A WILD CHIPMUNK JUST CLIMBED ME LIKE A TREE. Well, okay, let's try that bucket thing again.
CHIPMUNK: Yeah, you think so, lady.
AND THEN IT DID IT AGAIN. A chipmunk climbed my leg twice in a row.
The end of the story is all very happy - I eventually did get the chipmunk running off in the right direction, and as far as I know the cat didn't manage to get him. As for me, I managed to do all this and return to work without my boss ever seeing me running around on her lawn like a crazy. Win-win.
Wednesday and Thursday were considerably less thrilling; I spent both of them watching as much Burn Notice as I could manage before going to work, where I mostly got splinters a lot. I got paid on Thursday, since I decided to take Friday off, and then went home, where there was BURN NOTICE OMG ♥♥♥♥♥. Fiona! Sam! Snarky whooshing subtitles! I missed you all so much! And MICHAEL, OMG HEART. Maybe I am stupid, but I was not expecting the thing with Harlan to go sour in that particular way at all - I love it when TV shows surprise me. And the end, ahaha. Was it just me, or does Michael's mother ship Fiona/Sam/Michael as much as I do? (Which, I'm finding that I do. There is a tiny part of my heart that will always be Michael/Victor, but now that he's all with the dead, at least as far as we know, I have given in. I do not usually have OT3s, but I may just have acquired one. Fannish milestone!)
As for It was about like I was expecting - not especially good, or anything, but with nuggets of decentness, and the potential to shape up into a pretty good show. I loved the two teenaged kids, the hemophiliac and his girlfriend; they were adorable, and I'm guessing Hank is headed toward a kind of mentor thing with the kid, based on all that chatter about how his dad's never there for him. And I liked Divya pretty well; the fact that she spoke Hindi-Urdu on the phone with her parents seems to me like a sign that they aren't going to ignore her background, which is good. Hank was a little preachy in places, but he had a few moments of snark, and Evan was pretty funny.
The pacing was kind of uneven, but that seems to be a rough spot for a lot of pilot episodes - the set-up for this kind of serial patient/monster/client/criminal/witness-of-the-week thing can be pretty hard to do gracefully. So I'm willing to forgive it and watch a few more eps, just to see where it goes. It strikes me as the kind of thing that could come out very like Burn Notice, with the blacklisting and the being all noble and occasionally getting paid for it and the trusted pair of snarky allies. Which I would be ALL IN FAVOR OF, let me tell you.
As for yesterday, that ended up kind of being Stilt Day, unexpectedly - or maybe the rehearsal for today being Stilt Day, as the case may be. The Norwich Historical Society is having some kind of big event today, with a group photo of everybody (like, they're trying for every single person in town, no lie) on the Green at 11:00, and then a whole bunch of crafts and games and tours of historical houses. Part of this event is going to involve me, walking my stilts around the games and interacting with small children; yesterday, I went down to the site with my mother, just to scope it out and test-walk for a while.
I love walking stilts, it's so much fun to do, but it always causes me a little internal tug-of-war; I can't say I don't like it when people pay attention to me, but at the same time, it's kind of embarrassing. Plus, I'm constantly reminding myself that I shouldn't be liking it when I'm paid attention to, which doesn't help with the embarrassment thing. But it'll probably be good for me. I'm no great shakes at interacting with children; it can't hurt to practice while possessed of a virtual guarantee that they'll find me interesting. :D
Anyway. There were several close encounters with wildlife on Tuesday - three of these were relatively unexciting (three deer; one groundhog; half a dozen guinea fowl; all on various parts of the road as I drove places). The last - maybe it counts as the last two? I don't know - was considerably more thrilling.
So Mary Harris has a cat, right. Two cats, actually, but I've only ever managed to get relatively near one of them - Mocha, I believe, is his name. I was weeding, as I do, and saw him crossing the lawn with something in his mouth. I have two cats at home myself; cats wandering around with dead things, trying to find a good place to deposit them, is not an unknown sight. I resolved not to interfere unless the chipmunk Mocha was carrying showed some evidence of still being alive.
Yes, the chipmunk was very much still alive, as evinced by the dazed way it began bounding around as soon as Mocha set it down. He hadn't broken its back or anything; it was pretty much intact. So I ran down out of the garden, got between the cat and the chipmunk, and tried to figure out how to chase the chipmunk off the yard and into the forest while still keeping the cat away from it.
ME: Aha! I will make use of my handy weed bucket, which I forgot to set down when I came charging out here - I can herd the chipmunk into the bucket, and then take it back up to the garden with me. My plan is foolproof!
BUCKET: *is proffered up in front of a peculiarly unafraid - or maybe just dazed - chipmunk*
ME: *makes shooing motion behind chipmunk*
CHIPMUNK: AAH AAH CAT AAH NO WAY IN HELL AM I GOING IN THERE.
The chipmunk then decided that the obviously preferable option in this situation would be to run up my pantsleg. The outside, not the inside; the sensation was remarkably similar to the way it used to feel when my flying squirrel climbed me.
ME: HOLY SHIT A WILD CHIPMUNK JUST CLIMBED ME LIKE A TREE. Well, okay, let's try that bucket thing again.
CHIPMUNK: Yeah, you think so, lady.
AND THEN IT DID IT AGAIN. A chipmunk climbed my leg twice in a row.
The end of the story is all very happy - I eventually did get the chipmunk running off in the right direction, and as far as I know the cat didn't manage to get him. As for me, I managed to do all this and return to work without my boss ever seeing me running around on her lawn like a crazy. Win-win.
Wednesday and Thursday were considerably less thrilling; I spent both of them watching as much Burn Notice as I could manage before going to work, where I mostly got splinters a lot. I got paid on Thursday, since I decided to take Friday off, and then went home, where there was BURN NOTICE OMG ♥♥♥♥♥. Fiona! Sam! Snarky whooshing subtitles! I missed you all so much! And MICHAEL, OMG HEART. Maybe I am stupid, but I was not expecting the thing with Harlan to go sour in that particular way at all - I love it when TV shows surprise me. And the end, ahaha. Was it just me, or does Michael's mother ship Fiona/Sam/Michael as much as I do? (Which, I'm finding that I do. There is a tiny part of my heart that will always be Michael/Victor, but now that he's all with the dead, at least as far as we know, I have given in. I do not usually have OT3s, but I may just have acquired one. Fannish milestone!)
As for It was about like I was expecting - not especially good, or anything, but with nuggets of decentness, and the potential to shape up into a pretty good show. I loved the two teenaged kids, the hemophiliac and his girlfriend; they were adorable, and I'm guessing Hank is headed toward a kind of mentor thing with the kid, based on all that chatter about how his dad's never there for him. And I liked Divya pretty well; the fact that she spoke Hindi-Urdu on the phone with her parents seems to me like a sign that they aren't going to ignore her background, which is good. Hank was a little preachy in places, but he had a few moments of snark, and Evan was pretty funny.
The pacing was kind of uneven, but that seems to be a rough spot for a lot of pilot episodes - the set-up for this kind of serial patient/monster/client/criminal/witness-of-the-week thing can be pretty hard to do gracefully. So I'm willing to forgive it and watch a few more eps, just to see where it goes. It strikes me as the kind of thing that could come out very like Burn Notice, with the blacklisting and the being all noble and occasionally getting paid for it and the trusted pair of snarky allies. Which I would be ALL IN FAVOR OF, let me tell you.
As for yesterday, that ended up kind of being Stilt Day, unexpectedly - or maybe the rehearsal for today being Stilt Day, as the case may be. The Norwich Historical Society is having some kind of big event today, with a group photo of everybody (like, they're trying for every single person in town, no lie) on the Green at 11:00, and then a whole bunch of crafts and games and tours of historical houses. Part of this event is going to involve me, walking my stilts around the games and interacting with small children; yesterday, I went down to the site with my mother, just to scope it out and test-walk for a while.
I love walking stilts, it's so much fun to do, but it always causes me a little internal tug-of-war; I can't say I don't like it when people pay attention to me, but at the same time, it's kind of embarrassing. Plus, I'm constantly reminding myself that I shouldn't be liking it when I'm paid attention to, which doesn't help with the embarrassment thing. But it'll probably be good for me. I'm no great shakes at interacting with children; it can't hurt to practice while possessed of a virtual guarantee that they'll find me interesting. :D
