damkianna: A cap of the Reverend Mother from the Dune miniseries, with accompanying text: "Space cowgirl." (Default)
Man, what a weekend.

Friday afternoon was lovely. The day was so beautiful that I took a walk down to the waterfront, which was spiced up somewhat by a small dog - hir owner complimented me on my skirt, which was very kind, and I guess the dog must've liked it, too, because zie tried to take a bite out of it. Fortunately, there was no damage to the skirt, so it all ended well (although the dog was sadly thwarted, I suppose). Then I sat on the rocks for nearly two hours, listening to music and enjoying the breeze and the view. Amusingly, when I was on my way back up, I ran into a woman who had been inside the salon right next to where the Dog Incident occurred, and she stopped me to tell me it had made her laugh - in a very friendly way, not, like, a mean way.

Unfortunately, Friday evening was somewhat less shiny. ) :P

Saturday, likewise, was shaping up to be a lovely day, as AT came by and we ended up going on another walk to the waterfront and talking for a while, and then walking back up, getting lunch and ice cream, and eating both while we watched more Burn Notice. (I've gotten her halfway through the second season, so far. \o/) And then I came back to the room, only for Bailey to turn to me, teary-eyed, and tell me that her mother had called to let her know that her cat had died.

Clearly, me taking walks to the waterfront is just a bad idea.

It looks like today's going to turn out all right, though. Easter mass this morning, and it was definitely more cheerful than Palm Sunday, which was nice; as a bonus, I actually knew one of the songs we were singing, which has never happened to me before. We sang much more than I was expecting, including some parts that are usually spoken, and I was also taken somewhat by surprise by the part where the priest came around and flicked water on everybody. :D Oh, Catholicism. Just when I think I've got the whole routine almost figured out, you throw me a curveball.

I'm still waffling over whether or not to sign up for [community profile] ladiesbigbang - I'm leaning toward not, because that way I won't have to feel disappointed in myself if I don't finish the fic, but if I do get it done on time, I can still turn it in. Plus I don't need to make anybody produce a complement - I have my sister for that, we've already started trading chunks of story for art. :D I kind of can't believe how quickly Avatar: TLA has taken me over. I mean, I'm still chugging away at the HP AU, albeit a little more slowly because there's some background work I have to wrangle; but the Dead Moms are now edging toward forty things, and I've already got over 2,000 words of the fic I'm considering doing for [community profile] ladiesbigbang. The concerns I have about being able to complete it for the 'bang are in terms of story completeness - somehow I don't think writing 15,000 words is going to be much of a strain. /o\ And yet I can't say, in the end, that I really feel all that faily for wallowing so gratuitously in awesome ladies.

... A little guilty, maybe, for the (ridiculous) amount of effort I'm willing to invest in it versus the (miniscule) amount I find myself caring about, say, Biology; granted. :D
damkianna: A cap of the Reverend Mother from the Dune miniseries, with accompanying text: "Space cowgirl." (Default)
So I was mowing the lawn, like you do, because my mother said I had to and also it looked and still looks like it's going to rain this afternoon, which meant I couldn't put it off much. It was cool enough that I didn't have to change into shorts, but I didn't want to sweat through my shirt if I could possibly help it, so I took it off, and stuck with just a sports bra - not my usual, but nice our house is surrounded by trees, nobody could see me and it really was pretty muggy, if not all that hot. And I was listening to music, which meant I ended up doing a kind of hybrid dancing-mowing-mouthing-the-words thing; very dorky, and always cause for me to be glad that most of the time nobody else is home when I mow the lawn.

Another thing on my list of tasks was to trim the kiwi - possibly I have mentioned this, I don't know, but we have a kiwi ... bush? IDEK, that started out as just a little thing next to the south side of the porch, and has now grown into an enormous monster that covers the entirety of the porch railing on the south and east sides, and has only been prevented from swallowing the north end of the porch, too, by some aggressive pruning. (There's another one across the lawn from the first that grew up the fence and ate it; it gets far less trimming, so it's sort of a mass of greenery with great long tendrils winding out into the air, searching for something else to strangle. I like to call that one Cthulhu.)

Anyway, I was taking the kiwi bits down to the compost, still with the music on, and that was when I noticed some blackberries that were pretty much ripe. Less a story than an attempt to preserve a set of moments in my memory. ) Then I climbed up the slope around the side of the patch and onto the driveway proper, and picked a few last handfuls, and then carried the cat and a bowl full of blackberries back up to the house, with my feet coming down on the beat and Regina Spektor in my ears.

So. Today has pretty much managed to get itself categorized as a good day.
damkianna: A cap of Milo from Disney's Atlantis, with accompanying emoticon: "\o/". (\o/)
My sister is very talented at quite a number of things; one of these things is pottery. Since this is the Upper Valley, of course there are places around here where you can go to throw pots after work, which she does.

My mother refuses to buy margarine, which I love simply because it is infinitely more spreadable than refrigerated butter.

These things combined equal a lovely ceramic butterbell, made and beautifully glazed by my sister, which has been working pretty well for the past, oh, month or so.

Until this morning, that is, when I lifted the top half out of the bottom half and there was a peculiar extra shplupping noise. I turned it over to find that, yes, indeed, the hemisphere of butter that ought to be in the top half had fallen out, and was now happily bobbing in the water in the bottom half.

Warm butter is, unsurprisingly, pretty hard to fish out of water. :D

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damkianna: A cap of the Reverend Mother from the Dune miniseries, with accompanying text: "Space cowgirl." (Default)
'tis not so deep as a well

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