caudelac: (*hugs*)
Child is now a couple days shy of 10 months, and is:

  • Cruising on furniture

  • Growing about 4 teeth

  • Babbling near-words

  • Able to say Dada, Mama, and Bop! The latter is mostly repeating us when we tap him on the nose.

And it is all still wonderful. Christmas with the In-Laws, then New Years with my folks in FL. I didn't rant here about the new house drama, but we're on the next to last (I hope) round of contractor work, after the plumbing, then the asbestos removal, then the waterproofing. Now it is just the drywall and floor repair, then the fixing of the concrete in the front where they did the plumbing stuff.

Fortunately, homeowners insurance is paying for most of this, but man will it be wonderful to have the bottom half of the house back.

And that's the news.
caudelac: (Amuse me.)
Finished reading "The Souls of Black Folk" by WEB Du Bois. It's excellent on a number of levels, particularly seeing how many of today's racial issues were predictable over a hundred years ago, and how some non-racial ones... allowing corporations to substitute profit for rightness did kind of happen. It's quite frustrating to see the country now just getting to the place we ought to have been just after emancipation.

Completely unrelated: an odd side effect of the Les Mis movie is that my ancient fanfic has suddenly started getting comments and hits again. This amuses me greatly.

At a still greater remove: I have obtained a quantity of dandelions from the local schoolyard today, and shall presently turn them into dandelion wine. I missed it last year, which is terribly sad, but this year, oh this year, there shall be dandelion deliciousness! Though I should really go ahead and let it age the full year, as it is really better that way.

Having now also planted this spring's goodies on the porch, I think I shall very much want to go to the farmer's market this weekend and obtain some chocolate mint for the hanging planters. Yes.
caudelac: (*facedive*)
I hate being sick (seriously, it's been days now), but three cheers for vpn. Write all the tests. And watch all the episodes of Ru Paul's drag race.
caudelac: (bliss.)
For how happy I am to have a weekend where we are Just Plain Home. My goals being to add some more illumination to my Sample Book and clean a little. I would like to try to make some glair paint, but so far, I am failing at pigment. You're supposed to put the base (fruit, grass, flowers, whatever) in a pot of water and boil for an hour; I don't think I am using enough water, because it boils off too quickly. Earth pigment I can probably do more easily; powders you can apparently just add to the binder. Perhaps I shall post pictures of my experiments. Either way, for my next-year's garden, I think I shall try planting for dyes, as well as for herbs. Also, I should go get some bulbs... although it'd normally be too late for bulbs, here in December, the weather's been so warm that I can probably get away with it.

Other problem is that my soil is too... eh. So... deck composting, mayhap?

We shall see.
caudelac: (bliss.)
Back from Thanksgiving at B's family's farm. It was awesome and cozy and said family is wonderful; they plied us with delicious foodstuffs and now we have fig jam and scuppernong wine and all the peanuts and pecans ever. I mean it, all of them. I don't think there's any more in the world.


Now we are home, and have acquired a small tree for the table, and it is lit and decorated. I have done a Small Cleaning, and will do a Large Cleaning later. Or presently. But there are plans for beer and burgers this evening with friends, and that is wondrous and happy-making. We have been listening to the Chieftains and other holiday music.

All is good in the world. I hope everyone had a happy secular food holiday.

caudelac: (*facedive*)
Driving home always makes me sleepy.

Gonna go to dinner now.

Yes, this is all I have to say, just at the moment.
caudelac: (Default)

Wukr: wukring.
Home: cleaning.
Boy: writing like a fiend. Also working!
Cat: whining.
LARP: omg so much to do... (see also Boy.)
Car: brakeless. Fortunately...
Parents: Here this weekend, willing to co-sign on a car-loan.

I still need to put my hands on my car's &@);:-! Title, because that will be important for trades. I'm thinking of getting a used Prius, coz they seem pretty well priced around here. Mom suggests a Fiat. Yeah.

So we'll see about that.

Posted via

caudelac: (cannondrag)
So many unpacked boxes.

So much html.

So much wukr training course.

I feel very much like whining, but cannot decide on what to whine about.

Tea, maybe.

I could whine about tea. Though that's not very nice to the tea, which likes me well, I think.

Yes, tea, before I am compelled to unpack more. My hatred of cardboard has nearly achieved its bloody vengeance.
caudelac: (hang the stars)
Well, I'm moved.

Totally not up to running my D&D game today, not that that was terribly likely. I still have some cleaning to do back at the Apt in Durham, and to get my gardening stuffs. But,well, I live in Cary now, with [ profile] shieldhaven, and that's a goodness. In spite of Mausollini, crying about how he's not allowed in the bedroom so we should come watch tv out there with him now, or something.

Dust to Dust writing and acquisition of bookshelves to-day. Also the acquisition of food.

Also, I cannot overestimate how attractive 'Haven looks in in his black LARPing, faire-stylez silks, particularly early in the morning, on a Sunday, when lazy is kind of a thing. Hee.
caudelac: (cannondrag)
Well, I can see floor. The ratio of stuff to boxes is shifting in favor of boxes, the second load is delivered, and the third is loaded in the car.

more books to pack. Shocking, I know. Though I just realised that one of the bags of books in the car is actually meant for selling or donation, whichever.

Well, that's all right, I suppose.

This bottle of sangria is all right. It is just fine. And once I've done for it, I'll be just fine too.

Isn't that lucky!?
caudelac: (cannondrag)
I am all bored of moody, so Hey Bootstraps. And what's going on here.

Next weekend, I am moving in with the Boy. This means moving to Cary. And cardboard. Lots of cardboard. Fortunately, you know where the best place to find cardboard is?


Seriously though, I am happy of this, and also nervy. Both things. Lots and lots.

...too much to do. DtD writing deadlines are fight. Hopefully things will seem something other than dumb to-day.

Wukr is still nuts, but starting to make more sense.

And yeah.
caudelac: (wide awake.)
Maybe I'll get to go for drinking and trivia tonight, and maybe not. Maybe I'll be stuck here waiting for maitenence guys to figure out what the hell goes on with my wall and ceiling, so that they can clean the mold off of the former and fix the hole in the latter. Which at the moment, has a nasty piecce of plywood over it. Yay.

Maybe I'll just stay here and make up random military engagements for fun and profit and yeah. After all, I've got wine here.
caudelac: (story: that way)
I got rather a lot of writing done today, and cleaning too.

The writing being a little different from the norm for me, as I get to be on the Campaign Committee for the Dust to Dust LARP, which makes me very happy.

That said, I am up to chapter 15 in That Long Story, and partway into 16, and I need to update the setting log from my D&D game last Friday, and the Chessenta game Monday was /really/ good-- it is not easy to run my Shaman just clean out of healing, and Eclipse this weekend, and, and...

And whew, but that's a run on.

And I should sleep now.
caudelac: (climb the tower)
I can't seem to work up a good misery right now, during this, yet another stretch of unemployment. No matter how I try, wanting to get it out, I find that I'm too damn busy, or something else cool happens. Everytime I start, I wind up either typing words into The Novellything, or cleaning, or mini painting, or more Python, or finding something ok to apply for, or whatever. Go figure.

I think it is that, ultimately, my life is pretty good. I have Winningest Boyfriend what ever Won at Boyfriend, and lots of games, and LARP and DragonCon coming up, and friends to hang with, and this Work in Progress that I am still working on in spite of unemployment, which is traditionally awful for writing. There is still some apt-stress and feline stress, but still. Also, there is my BEST SOPHIA EVER, who sent me wonderful goodies that arrived in the mail just a little bit ago, and dear lord do I need to get to the post office and send her the package that's been in my car for /months/ at this point and needs to be sent to her, even without the Long and Meaningful Letter I've wanted to include. Cozya. I r lamestest.

Though I have discovered that writing works best late at night, when I'm mostly exhausted, after having sobered up from drinking. Then I can usually get past wherever I was stuck, for some odd reason. The only problem with it is that I can't last very long before my eyes won't stay open and I am accidentally hitting all the keys at once.

So, um, awkward, but I am wanting to think of best way to offer Le Story up for Reading to People What Might Be Interested. I dunno. I sort of warble. Feedback, I need it, but... well yeah. So. Also, I wish I could be content with a name for the damn thing.

But nu, I have this bathroom that is beckoning me to come and assault it with cleaning supplies and sponges, and I cannot resist its sudsy siren call.
caudelac: (*facepalm*)
I have moved a lot, over the past 10 years. The longest I have lived in any place was about two and a half. That's a lot of residences... 8, actually, if you don't count the 6 months that I technically was renting Lancaster, but effectively living on Hale with my GF at the time. It's frustrating and exhausting, and gives me cardboard allergies. I don't like it.

So what I'm saying is that I don't want to move again. Not out of necessity, anyway, and not to anyplace where I'm just going to wind up moving again soon after for one reason or another, most likely that I settled for whatever I could find quickly that was cheap. I have been delighted by the whole job thing because it means that I don't /have/ to move for financial reasons, among other things. But if these people won't fix my ceiling, when the rain has resulted in streams of water down my wall and puddles on my floor, then I will have to look for somewhere else. And I seriously, desperately, do not want to. I like this nice, inexpensive place what has washer and dryer and is in my favorite neighborhood in all of Durham, perhaps the triangle. If I move from here, I don't want it to be because of a burning throat and soggy cats and mold, but because I am, in fact, choosing to move somewhere better and more awesome in good ways. Just sayin.

Thanks for your time.

caudelac: (*facepalm*)
So I get home today after the Shards of Orn larp to find that part of my bedroom ceiling has caved in-- the part near the bathroom door. So there's a bunch of stucco all over a basket of stuffed animals and a pile books, and the pervasive smell of damp wood and plaster.


Fortunately, this is why the good lord invented beer & cider in bottles, and also gave me two good hands.
caudelac: (bliss.)
Thanks to [ profile] ghettonqueen and hers, I am now in posession of all of the dandilions in the hood. That's right, all of them. The hood is now all dandilion-less. Yup.

Now, I must wash les fleurs and also see about procuring wine yeast-- there is much alas that the old co-op no longer exists, which is where I would typically go ffor such things. Weaver street market may have some, but I don't think they kept as much in the way of brewing supplies. My hands and my dress are all yellow. My cat is large and black and occupying my lap like Poland.

This day has been productive. I have hung things, projected things, planted things (tomatoes, basil, and chocolate mint from the Farmer's Market), and acquired a coffee table and cat food. It is now to continue some measure of this productivity and have some nosh before I repair to Cary for Tribute to Departing Friends and yes.
caudelac: (cannondrag)
Things I do not have time to do next week: pick 16 cups of dandelions and shuck them of their green bits, for the making of Dandelion Wine. No matter how much I would like to, or how long I have been saying that I will get to it one of these years. By god.

Not to mention the complication of finding somewhere with acceptable and plentiful dandelions.

I will probably just wait, and then make my midsummer strawberry mead in a month or two.
caudelac: (Default)
Okay, the craziest shit makes me cry these days. I feel that I get a pass on the part of the Oscars where I got all teary, because it was the John Hughes memorial bit, and I wasn't the only one. Especially since the bit with the music from 'Up' followed.(btw, is that on DVD yet? She must own it.)

Still, that part of 'Juno' where Vanessa is feeling Juno's belly and is talking to the baby and she finally feels it kick... yeah, rivers of waaah.

Was super effective sometime around 1 last night in article re-drafting, figured out where one story which has been sitting dead in the water for years is going to go, and what it's about, and figured also that the problem with another story is that it starts a little bit closer to the middle than it ought to, and I should write it a proper beginning.

(Dear lord, the guy from 'The Ladykillers' who plays the Aryan Brotherhood guy on 'Oz', and also plays Juno's dad saying "Tore up from the floor up," cracks me up like crazy. And I so love this soundtrack.)

I would move away from this couch, away from movies what make me cry and into Moar Productivity, but there is this great fur-covered blackness on my feet, and oh hell, I wanted to finish reading "Wizard of Earthsea" anyway.
caudelac: (Default)
I have, spread on my bed:

--Jorge Luis Borges Selected Non-Fictions, upside down and open to an essay on cyclical time.
--Reading Borges in Buenos Aires,from [ profile] yuki_onna's [ profile] omikuji_project.
--A sketchbook, open to A Beginning.
--A black cat, sprawled upon said Beginning.
--pyjamas in piles
--a letter I should really send to [ profile] unnaturale someday.
--myself, absently writing this ere she makes it up and to Rue Cler for Brunchfast.


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