That the Avengers movie is made entirely of crack because, having punched my geek card and seen it a second time, I want to see it again. Like, tomorrow. The last time a movie did that to me was, um, Raiders of the Lost Ark. And before that, Star Wars.

20 Maggie Collins icons for leverage20in20



( You can't just make somebody do what you want them to do )

Things continue to come together over here. Yesterday we finished the last of our Major Stuff Shopping, and when the last thing gets delivered on Thursday, we'll officially have the place fleshed out - at least from a furnishing standpoint.

Not that we'll be "done" in any real sense. My dad says that when it comes to home ownership, you're only ever done for now. He's right, I'm sure. There are already a dozen little projects I'd love to fiddle with, not least of all the garden - which is, at present, a rectangular patch of backyard harboring dandelions, semi-wild onions, clover, and the tail-less cat.

The tail-less cat (henceforth TLC, as her name eludes me) showed up in our back yard shortly after we arrived, and at first, I thought she was a pregnant stray. A pretty little black-and-white longhair, TLC was too skittish to touch, and her pendulous tummy swayed as she waddled frantically away.

Poor kitty, I thought. I will feed her and lure her close, and maybe she'll have the kittens nearby - so I can catch them and vet them and home them and oh yes, I was making plans.

After a few days, she'd figured out I was a food-dispensing monkey - and I'd find her sitting outside the roses, waiting for me to open the curtains every morning. Just to make sure I would see her, and know that there was a hungry, pitiful, single-mother-to-be hoping for breakfast.

And then I met the neighbors, who had a good laugh about it.

Formerly a feral stray, TLC was taken in and spayed by these same neighbors - who have never successfully gotten her to stay indoors or wear a collar. She is, however, spoiled silly, routinely vetted, and amply fed.

On the one hand, I'm relieved. I'm always sad to see homeless animals, and it's just as well I don't have to find homes for half a dozen kittens. On the other hand, I could do without the turd presents the fat little scammer leaves outside our back door every day, now that I've stopped accommodating her.*

I'm told that she's an excellent mouser who has never successfully caught a bird to anyone's knowledge, and both of these points please me. We're right at the foot of a mountain, backing up to thick woods which are no doubt teeming with mice ... and we have a shit-ton of birds hanging around, not least of all because I feed them.**

Speaking of birds, though - we may have a couple of new under-the-porch-eaves residents: two of the cutest wee tiny purple-headed finches you ever did see. At first they considered the hanging planters, but after I knocked down an unrelated, long-abandoned nest from a corner, they seem to feel that prime real estate has unexpectedly opened up and the time to buy is NOW NOW NOW.

(Aside I: Obviously I would not have taken down the old nest if it had not very, very clearly been out-of-use for ages.)

(Aside II: Maybe it was haunted, and that's why nobody else took over the lease in all this time. Some kind of bird-atrocity was committed there, and word's gotten around. Maybe other birds called the nest, "The old McFeatherstone place" and teenage birds dared one another to go sit there by themselves ... and when the moon is full, they say that the ghost of Widow McFeatherstone hangs from the petunia planter while moaning, "I KNOW WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE WHEN DOVES CRY" and never mind now this just getting silly.)

Anyway, now they're checking out that freshly vacated corner, and I really do hope they move in.

Hm. Let's see, what else?

Well, today we went to the Chattanooga Market, which frankly blew our minds. The weekly (seasonal) market had just started up around the time we moved away, but it was pretty damn pitiful. Now it's a total circus - well stocked, with a lot of great local crafters, farmers, and other assorted people-with-stuff-to-sell. Well done, Chattanooga. Well done.

I spent a few bucks, brought home a few things, and plan to return, but here's hoping that next week it's not quite so damn hot. And you know it was damn hot if I'm complaining about it, because I'm the sort who keeps the AC set around 80 degrees if I'm left to my own devices, and if it's cooler than that indoors, I'm likely to jaunt around in a bathrobe. You can take the girl out of Florida, etc. etc. etc.

But damn. A few thousand people were crowded into a big old pavilion, and it was 95 degrees.

This having been said, the heat prompted me to sample the wares of a really great two-person soda company offering some seriously fantastic custom syrups. I had a "honey lime" beverage, and would cheerfully go buy another - or try out some of the other flavors. Now I just wish I could remember the company's name. I'll keep an eye out for them next time.

[Edit: It was these guys. Pure Sodaworks. Two thumbs up.]

Not a lot of news to report in home repair and improvement news. This is partly because we're coming up close to Done For Now - and now we're figuring out bills and services, and whatnot. The Perplexing Back Room is now a guest room, but it's big enough that yes, we use it as a game room too. We threw our old TV back there, hooked up the game system, and now we're just waiting for the seating to arrive. (On Thursday, see above.)

It actually looks pretty nice, despite the carpet. I took a picture or two for Twitter, but we've rearranged everything since I did so. The whole thing is still a work in progress.

The library/study has come along nicely, too. The husband's bookcases arrived, and are assembled, and are now holding up books - so yes, we are Officially Unpacked. [:: throws confetti ::] He still has some art to hang, but the place looks great.

If this meager tally sounds like a pitiful excuse for how little I've updated as of late, I would add another excuse to the pile: the copyedits for The Inexplicables landed a few days ago, and I've been eyeballs deep therein. I'm still not done, but I'm about 2/3 of the way through. I was going cross-eyed, so I thought I'd take a break and come over here to ramble.

Mission accomplished, I'd say.

Right. Well. Happy Memorial Day weekend, everyone. Go hug a veteran. I have to wait to hug my two nearest and dearest veterans, as my dad and stepmom won't be here to visit for another few weeks - but I will surely make up for it then.

---

* In all fairness, she quit doing this after a week. And now she'll let me pet her sometimes, which is great. She's really a beautiful, sweet little cat. Just ... hilariously fat.
** "Feeding" is one of the many services I am likely to provide for random critters.

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2012/05/last-kickstarter-post.html

Harry Potter House Quotes
1-19 Gryffindor
20-41 Hufflepuff
42-73 Ravenclaw
74-100 Slytherin
101-124 House Combinations

Preview:


( Mischief Managed!)

If you’ve been reading these posts for the last week, you know that my intention was to write two posts. The first, about help, I did write. The second, I still haven’t written. This is very much in keeping with the way I write anything. I have a general idea. I put the words on the screen. And then other words arise out of interaction, and, well.

We, as parents, all want our children to be happy. I take that as a given. We do not always make our children happy - but at base, we want our children to lead happy, long lives.

Given the way life works, life is not predictable. We are adults, our children are not. We know the things that caused us pain - and we want to help our own children avoid that pain, and avoid bearing those scars.

( But... )

And now, I am running out of the house because it’s our 23rd anniversary :)

I will write in words of fire. I will write them on your skin. I will write about desire. Write beginnings, write of sin.

You're the book I love the best, your skin only holds my truth, you will be a palimpsest lines of age rewriting youth.

You will not burn upon the pyre. Or be buried on the shelf. You're my letter to desire: And you'll never read yourself. I will trace each word and comma

As the final dusk descends, You're my tale of dreams and drama, Let us find out how it ends.

-Neil Gaiman

(How badly, terribly do I want this print of this poem.)

Yep. Still spinning this faux cashmere. But I MIGHT finish the singles this coming up week. If I do nothing but spin. Heh. This yarn is thiiiiin.

My mom’s birthday is coming up and I told her I want to knit her something for it. What did she want? She immediately said, “I want a hat like yours.” I got to see her during the Dark Days tour in Austin and she DID seem jealous of my hat. So I said I’d make her one. (The pattern is Spring Beret. Rav link.)

Here it is finished, but unblocked.

I used handspun merino wool in a colorway called “Stardust.” Neither of these pictures are accurate, but the second is a little closer.

Here is the hat blocking on a plate and posing with Bob the Spinning Wheel. The lace stretches out a lot!

Since I have a little time before I visit her, I might knit something else for her out of the rest of Stardust. Hmmm.

Originally published at Jodi Meadows. You can comment here or there.

Title: i don't want anything in between
Author: lalejandra
Fandom: Bandom - Pete gen
Content notes: So remember when Ashlee was pregnant and fandom was athwack with "It's Patrick's baby!" and "It's a lie!" and blah blah blah? This is the story that I really wanted to read back then but knew no one was ever going to write, given the "Ashlee is flawless" backlash. Except it is so depressing, I can't bring myself to keep writing it. azurejay and belladonnalin very nicely listened to me moan about it last November, and even helped me plot out the rest of it, but I just can't get the words on the page.


Read this at the AO3.

( The test is negative. )

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The original post is at Dreamwidth. You're welcome to comment anywhere you like.

These are for a challenge over at ndinvitationals


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