I took Friday off, inspired by an errand i needed to run and, with the day cleared, i decided to spend the morning with my nephew & niece. We had breakfast at the classic small town restaurant (blueberry waffle & banana pancake for them, respectively, hashbrowns & eggs for us), a little visit to our home where they hadn't been for a while, and then -- yay, i found my beading tools! -- to their house for playing with beads for a bit. It was lovely, and now that i have all my kit, i should do it again in an organized way. Also, when my sister is there, so we can use her beads, too.
I'd made a bit of a mess trying to find stuff, so i spent some of Saturday in the residual moving task of sorting out jumbled stuff. We have many residual moving tasks lingering. I also fixed some jewelry of Christine's i'd said i'd fix and made the necklace and earrings to go with my Easter dress with the faceted yellow chalcedony and vermeil links and pendants i bought with birthday money from my grandmother. The dress is a 50s influenced, A-line dress in a print of lemons, so this necklace and earrings is a sparkling accent for that.
--== ∞ ==--
The week is flying by. Sunday i stopped by my parents after meeting, where "stopped by" means driving an extra 35 or more minutes. My parents are in the opposite direction of meeting. Later, as i was spraying my yellow squash and other cucurbits with a milk-soap-baking soda mixture, my dad stopped by to take a look at the crack in the slab in our front porch. He agreed with my assessment that the "fix" someone had applied in the past was part of the problem. He also knew a much better way to repair it than someone had told Christine. (That instruction was to essentially replicate the bad repair.) He confirmed it was a cosmetic and not particularly structural issue, and wouldn't stop thinking about the issue until he came up with a cause for the crack.
We also have an issue with the light that is not quite over the island in the kitchen: i think "Mr Handyman," the previous owner, caulked the halogen light bulb into the socket. I am happy for the excuse to replace the otherwise attractive but poorly located pendant lamp with a ceiling fan with lights.
Yesterday, my niece and nephew stayed with us during their parents' workday. They had to entertain themselves mostly, but over lunch we made oobleck, a non-newtonian fluid with interesting shear properties. That is, we mixed one part water with around two parts corn starch and examined how the behavior changed when you stirred it slowly vs quickly and a variety of other messy experiments. My favorite was watching an apparently solid chunk fly out of the container, hit me, bounce off, land on the counter and then slowly melt into a puddle.
Making gravy will never quite be the same.
I tried mowing last night, but somehow our lawnmower has lost the adjustments to the front two wheels and all one can really do is scalp the grass. There are some areas where that is desirable, but it was even scalping the moss, which isn't.
It's miserably humid, by the way. Miraculously the forecast for Monday is "clear", although the detailed prediction for Brevard, NC is 50% cloud cover in the afternoon. I've been trying to pretend like it's no big deal and have not been practicing camera stuff, etc. I guess i ought to be getting out the eclipse glasses and filters now, though.
This morning I was thinking, well, I can just show up at stuff. I don't have to be on any committee or board, I don't have to stress myself out by having one more ball to juggle. I can just show up when I can.
So today, I signed up to get the newsletter from >a href="https://lansingindivisible.org/"
It feels like nothing, but I know that it's really, really something.
I'm not sure how many people have "midnight snacks". I've never had any inclination to do it myself, nor has anyone in my immediate family, so as far as I can tell maybe it's one of those things that you only ever see in fiction. I first came across the idea in Blondie comics, in which Dagwood Bumstead is a famous big eater who often raids the fridge in the middle of the night. Then of course there's that other well known comic strip eater, Garfield, who has also perpetrated the odd midnight snack. I seem to recall seeing Scooby Doo and Shaggy making late night snacks as well - usually before getting interrupted by the "ghost of the week" who turns out to be Old Man Smithers and who would have gotten away with it if not for those pesky kids. And in more recent times, Nigella Lawson has become known for ending her cooking shows with herself raiding the fridge in the middle of the night.  This essentially qualifies as fiction too, as I'm pretty sure she doesn't really have a TV crew camped out in her kitchen all night just hoping to catch her in an unplanned late night snacking expedition.
But it does have one advantage over The Murdered Brother, and that's that the framing story makes sense. I can see how you might chop your sister up after you've knocked her up. I mean, I wouldn't do it, but I wouldn't do half the things people do in ballads. If I had no moral compass, though, then I might well look at murder as the solution to everyday social problems like an inconvenient pregnancy. Even in a ballad, though, killing your brother because he cut down a withy wand that might've been a tree is just strange.
(And their mother doesn't give a damn, it seems, no matter who killed whom and why. There's some seriously messed up family dynamics here. Sometimes you really have to wonder about the people who wrote these things.)
Silver Composition in Coins Confirms the Story of the Rise of Rome
How Edmond Halley Kicked Off the Golden Age of Eclipse Mapping
Probiotic Bacteria Could Protect Newborns From Deadly Infection
Nobody Knows What Lies Beneath New York City
Pretty sure I've seen this exact premise in, like, a thousand Harry Potter fics. Because how else are you gonna get Draco and Hermione to hook up?
Female Inmates In Federal Prisons Will Now Have More Access To Tampons & Pads
The next time somebody tells me that they or anybody else can't be a bigot because they have one $GROUP friend, I'm going to point them to this article about Eduard Bloch, who was personally exempted from anti-Semitic persecution by... Adolf Hitler. Yes, really. Yes, my jaw dropped too.
Solving a Murder Mystery With Ancestry Websites
Justice Department at odds with DEA on marijuana research, MS-13
Severe Housing Needs May Return to Foreclosure-Crisis Levels
This Is Why Taking Fish Medicine Is Truly a Bad Idea (This may be a sign that things in this country are really, really bad.)
They Got Hurt At Work — Then They Got Deported
White nationalists are flocking to genetic ancestry tests — but many don't like their results
Steve Bannon once said Breitbart was the platform for the alt-right. Its current editors disagree. Is the incendiary media company at the nerve center of Donald Trump’s America simply provocative — or dangerous?
Psychologists surveyed hundreds of alt-right supporters. The results are unsettling.
Trump Knows Exactly What He’s Doing
In Ukraine, a Malware Expert Who Could Blow the Whistle on Russian Hacking
Philippine police kill 32 in bloodiest night of Duterte’s war on drugs
I'm probably going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop until we're finally on Gate Road.
by Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
part 2 of 6
word count (story only): 1096
:: Part of the Polychrome Heroics universe, the Mercedes story set, and the Road Trip arc, this is where Joshua's brain finally goes 'tilt,' but while there is tension, several good things develop as a result. ::
:: This story is sponsored by Callibr8, and she knows why! ::
“Can I be snarky about it?” Loudmouth asked, her eyes serious, but the corners of her mouth quivering in anticipation.
“Could you possibly not?” Joshua retorted in a shocked tone, rolling his eyes. He grinned, and his shoulders loosened visibly. “I actually meant that as a compliment. I deeply regret not bringing a note pad with me on this trip, but I honestly thought that it was going to be more about bonding with G than upending our entire lives. Anyway, A connects to B in my own head, but it would take too long to explain without at least as much snark as you seem to enjoy.”
( Read more... )
Kindergarten starts tomorrow, and I (like Guppy) am a mix of excited and scared. This is a big step, and it confuses me that she could be this old already. Wasn't she just learning to talk and sitting in a high chair developing all these strong opinions?
She's looking forward to making friends, and has already made artwork for her new teacher. She won't have any difficulty making her desires clear, and will never be railroaded by peer pressure, at least.
I'm looking forward to having a few hours to work every day. I haven't decided yet how I'm going to arrange my schedule. Maybe three days of not-a-book writing and two days that are 'other projects.' I'd love to go back to my Upheaval novel and finish that. I've got spicy stories to write for Patreon. I'm just a page or two from a new coloring book, and have several half-sketched. I need to do some birds for the next Coloring Alaska book, and I desperately need to give that website some attention. I see a list in my future.
My not-a-book is formatted and my revisions have been cleared. It will get a comb for typos, and is on the calendar for release in two weekends. Yay!
Toast and a Series of Unfortunate Events before bed. (The TV show, no actual events, I hope...)
Look out, kindergarten.
I'd noticed in Annabots that I seemed to be getting some double-kills with single shots, and poking around, I'm under the impression that domino shots are actually a thing in-game.
I think I got one yesterday. Temple of Anubus, on offence, second point, I'm hanging out on my favourite perch, shooting onto the point, really kind of waiting for my team to get back out there as we'd captured part of the point but then got stomped.
I see some movement on the point, and I fire one shot in - Double kill.
I think maybe I got my first domino shot in quickplay.
A couple of days ago, I was talking offline about how I'm improving as a Widowmaker, but I'm not able to shift a game the way I can by showing up as Tracer or D.va? Today I did it.
Dorado, on attack, started as Tracer. They weren't ready for a Tracer at my grade, and we charged pretty well for the first 95% of the first leg, 'till they figured out I was the problem, then we still managed to nudge it to the first objective before we totally got shut down.
So I switched to D.va, and they weren't expecting a D.va of that grade either, but once again, figured out who to focus on, and we charged for 95% and then had to struggle for the last bit, and I brought it home nudge and boop at a time.
But that was it, right? They brought out a Bastion, and D.va's not a good counter to Bastion, and I think they must've swapped another hero, because they were seriously pushing us back to the third spawn point, and I'm thinking, "...I... I really feel like I need to bring out Widowmaker here. I really do."
And so I said fukkit, I did. And started knocking out the Bastion over and over and an eight-person kill-streak later, we're 95% of the way to the third and final point.
Which is, again, when they figure out where I went and started hardcore targeting me and we lost. Plus, indoors on the third stage of Dorado is a terrible, terrible place for Widowmaker, so what did you expect, really? But while we were outside, I was an unstoppable killing machine as Widowmaker, and for the third time, shifted a match from "hopeless" to "edge of victory."
I have no illusions about being able to do it regularly - yet - with Widowmaker. My aim is still super-spotty (tho' the time I'm putting in on Annabots is clearly helping across all heroes) and I don't know all the places to be and not be. But I have now done it, once.
Nine hours later and gums still bleeding.
Lost track of my medications schedule , especially since the dentist prescribed me a new antibiotic in place of the old one, so I have dosed myself much too close together.
Have not been able to think very straight for a number of hours.
Go kommer highbury hjem og som du og kommer strækninger man altid gæster karlekammer vores unikke kæmpe bølge