fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)
(gods smite me, but someone recently posted art for a J2 fic--their Jensen could be the Ghost General.)
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)
Having never actually heard it pronounced, I always heard it in my head in the Greek, like Aristotle= aRIStoTELeh. So Aziraphale = aZIRaFALLeh. I'm still tilting my head every time someone says it.

My hero

Feb. 20th, 2019 03:07 am
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)


timiny


































I don't know if the dentist noticed or not, but Timiny was clutched in my hand the whole time I was in the chair last Thursday. The dentist is very good, but Timiny helped keep me calm, despite the fact he's only three inches tall.

fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)
Avoiding the world burning, I've been watching Hallmark Channel movies (yes, I've gotten that desperate looking for happy "normal"). So in the last few days I've seen Arthur Ketch and Ames White as cuddly dads. And still? Less bizarre than current reality.
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)
My PCP prescribes OTC supplements for me, for various and sundry ailments and things my body does wrong, or doesn't do right, whatever.

Among those supplements are fish oil, in gel caps truly the size of horse pills, and those two-part gelatin capsules they put dry ingredients in and then fit together, one holds turmeric, one holds cinnamon. There are also various vitamins, plus a couple of actual prescription drugs. Yes, I do tend to rattle when I walk, in case you were wondering.

All these pills are oversized, and I have to take them a few at a time, rather than all the handful at once, because sometimes I have trouble getting them down. The cinnamon, for example, seems to get lodged halfway down, the capsule slips apart, and then I have a large, embarrassing burp. Ground cinnamon powder on bare mucus membrane, such as the esophagus? Burns. OH used to laugh and disbelieve me, until the day I had a huge cinnamon burp, and a small cloud of cinnamon powder puffed out of my mouth. Such fun.

I used to take flaxseed oil in the big gelcaps, but we couldn't get that for some reason, so I got switched to the fish oil, which is not bad, but I can smell it before I put it in my mouth, and taste it before I get it swallowed.

You know what's coming, right? The other day I'd dutifully swallowed all the pills, and then had a huge cinnamon-fish oil belch. So bad I choked, thought I was gonna yak, choked it all back down and chugged some water, then walked around in circles half bent over, cursing for a few minutes. GAH.

So, I'm not taking the fish oil caps any more. Whatever they were preventing, or promoting, can just blow me. Can't make me! Neener.
fufaraw: (J2)
There's been no reposted tweets from Montreal, not on my LJ nor my Tumblr dash, which is unusual. Is anybody there, and willing to share a little news?
fufaraw: single candle flame (one candle)
OH does not truck with "that witchy stuff," although he completely supports my participation. This is the night for the binding ritual, which includes a stub of an orange candle as an avatar for 45. The ritual concludes with disposing of the spent candle at a crossroads, in running water, or by burying it. OH is respectfully quiet, often in another room while I follow the ritual. But when it's done, he *leaps* to dispose of the candle stub.

Avatar, indeed. *g*

Eughh.

Aug. 11th, 2017 04:23 pm
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)
After a couple of *weeks* of smoky air and haze, today I'm getting my first whiff of actual burning stuff, and ewwww.  Poor people who've been in it all this time.

It's supposed to rain tomorrow or the next day, and wash a lot of particulates out of the air. That'll be nice. And drop the high temps ten degrees F or more. That'll be even nicer. If we hadn't moved, if I'd been stuck in NC all this time, I'm sure I'd be dead by now. If not from the climate, then from politics. Oddly, there's lots of NC history and landscape I do miss--most of which is either altered or gone, in rational perspective. Can't forget the view from Mt. Mitchell, though. Or starlings in an autumn dusk from a third-story classroom window at Salem.

Important to remember these things are brighter, softer, happier, in the light of nostalgia than they would be in the harsh light of present reality.

Come onnnn, rain!
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (Default)
I took a nap this afternoon because, well, I felt like it, and I had no obligations and I could. I'm a rebel like that.

I dreamed of having moved into a run down neighborhood clawing its way back into being a neighborhood, getting to know people and stores and places to shop, folks rehabbing their buildings, cleaning up trash, etc. Over a weekend, someone had a crew clearing overgrowth of vines and some random trees from a lot between buildings, and one evening after the noise of the workers had stopped, some of us wandered over to see the results. They'd pulled down a few sheds and lean-tos that were about to fall down anyway, had cut the trees into sections, and set fire to the wood. It was still smoldering, flames flickering through here and there, and some of the neighbors got hoses and volunteered to keep watch on it, while we planned to find out who was responsible for leaving it burning and Have Words with them on Monday. I was walking home, and a kid I'd seen a few times followed me, wanting me to come play with him.

I was uncommited, unsure if I wanted to or not. As we turned the corner, another group was breaking up, and one of the guys turned to walk in the same direction we were going. I recognized Robert Urich, and we sort of fell into step. "Hello, smoker," he grinned. I shook my head at him. "I don't smoke." He made a "Sure, you don't" face.

"You've seen me smoking?" He nodded. "Then it must have been awhile. I quit three years ago."

We were having a nice, friendly walk, so it was rude when my alarm woke me. It was only a few minutes later, after I was up and moving through the house I remembered, isn't Robert Urich dead? Yeah, for quite a while now.

Huh.

I would like to have talked to him some more. He seemed like a friendly fellow.
 

 






milly_gal!

Jan. 4th, 2017 06:29 pm
fufaraw: animated snowfall (red umbrella snow)
This is the first sunny day it's been light enough indoors that I could take pics without flash! So, late, but still cheerful Christmas pics!  Moose medal! Thank you, hon!

100_5559 ed sh

An evergreen cone that weighs as much as an egg, and feels like a solid surface. The giver says that when it opens to drop its seeds, it will *explode*! I think when I de-decorate after the 7th, the cone will be relegated to a porch, so it can 'splode there ,and not all on the carpet. OH painted the tarot Hermit Father Christmas

100_5554 cr sh

Shenannigans under the flatscreen, from a German pyramid to an Ohio Art top, c. 1950-ish, Steiff bears and a Hermann chimp, lion and lamb Engelbreit tin, Father Christmas, elf and Santa stocking hooks, Beldar and Primate conehead Santas all painted by OH, a watch cap, a toque, and a beanie, gifts in the past, to the Pinewood Derby car OH made for me when the boys were in Cub Scouts. All good fun.

100_5566 sh ed cr

Observing Old Christmas is a wonderful way to relax and enjoy the decorations before they all get stowed again till next year.
fufaraw: (J2)

For those not following on twitter - Mike Pence went to Hamilton tonight - got booed by the entire audience, was subjected to massive extended applause after “Immigrants, we get the job done”, and then King George sang “What Comes Next?” directly to him leading to a three minute standing ovation for the King.

Finally some good news.

I don't know if this link will work or not.

fufaraw: mist drift upslope (owl)
There's a whole chorus of owl calls outside tonight. Or at least an extended conversation.

It's kind of nice.
fufaraw: (J2)
about the use of souls as fuel for the Darkness-bomb, a thing that has bothered me before about the use and treatment of souls. It's likely a product of my Christian Protestant upbringing, but isn't the soul a person's *being*, and after death, that person's afterlife--whether in heaven, hell, or some other destination revealed and supported by that person's religion or faith?

So you live a good life, kind to your fellow beings, and doing what you can on earth to ease suffering, and you die in the expectation that your afterlife will be at least pleasant, hopeful meetings with your beloved ones who've gone on before you and will come after you. That the pain you endured in life will be repaid in peace and earned..."happiness," for lack of a better word at the moment.

So that's the deal you accept, and work toward earning, in life. And in death, you've achieved it. Then suddenly, your soul is one of thousands, millions, siphoned off to fuel some plan or other of beings vaster than your understanding, and their plans. "You," your essence, your soul, become nothing but a unit of measure, easily sacrificed and undone forever in some scheme you had no say in.

And my thought is, how can these forces be "for good" if they deal in people's *souls* like toothpicks in a card game?
fufaraw: (J2)
Have you guys seen http://LJ3.org? It's a livestream of images uploaded to LJ. There's a search bar--enter your username if you've ever posted pics on LJ, and they'll come up on that site. Has this been mentioned on the LJnews thingy, and have I just not been paying attention?

You don't even want to know what kind of sideslipping I did to wind up on the site. Imagine my perturbation that my images are just...out there for all and sundry. I'm usually a bit more circumspect than that. I'll have to ponder if and what kind of lockdown I'll use on LJ pics from now on.
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (rose)
100_5156 ed

Thrift shop china, the pot was $2.00, unmarked early 20th century American redware. The cream jug was a gift. Cream cheese and homemade raspberry-pomegranite preserves on half the rice cake, homemade lemon curd on the other.

100_5158ed

Books, bears, tarot–Dreaming Way, Deviant Moon, Sun and Moon decks–and tea. The Peanut Gallery: Naomi Laight’s Georgiana, Steiff’s Snap-apart bear, assorted Steiff 10cm bears, one tiny artist’s bear, and Ralph, who started life as a keychain fob. Ralph and Timiny (Steiff, blue sweater) travel wherever I go, in a special pouch in my purse. The bears don’t care about tea, but they’re very fond of honey toast.
fufaraw: Bobby lit match (Bobby)
I bought a book online recently. I don't know the author or her work, and the book has been out for several years so, feeling no particular compulsion to add to their income ("Hello, yes, do you have 'this book' in stock? No, I don't have time for you to order it, I'm going to a birthday thing today, and she mentioned wanting this book in particular." Or strolling through the store, turning the book's cover face out on the shelves. Or if they do have it, "Yes, and let me have four additional copies to use as gifts." Leaving reviews online, etc. I'm a huge known-author booster), I ordered a used paperback.
Read more... )

So anyway, I can't with this book. I'ma have to find another copy that I can stand to hold long enough to read!
fufaraw: mist drift upslope (MV bear words-WWL)
This is Hippocrates (first, do no harm), one of my artists' bears, and Virgil (named after the chimp in an old Matthew Broderick movie), the 1970s vintage Hermann chimpanzee. Devoted friends.

fufaraw: animated snowfall (red umbrella snow)
But I feel a mighty neeeeeed! Can anybody--and are you willing to--make a .gif icon of Sam's smile when Mildred says, "Before I got so good looking"? Pretty please? I'll, um. Be extremely grateful? Extoll your virtues far and wide? Cookies? Anybody?

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