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Jun. 13th, 2004
Status check
Jun. 13th, 2004 10:24 amFor those of you who wondered (I'm looking at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dawnstar here, but I imagine there's probably a few more, she just IMed me to this effect though) I am, in fact, feeling much better today. I have a few things that want doing, I have energy again, and the sun was out this morning. It's actually supposed to be nice out all week. Maybe I'll watch a movie today though. There's an idea.
No more dreams about Ronald Reagan, although I did have serious dreams about having to move my DVD player. Go figure that one. It's not even like that would be /difficult/.
In the interest of continuing a trend of gaining inspiration after I post this: this week's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
drabblemania word is a bitch. "Broken toys." Well, Person as Broken Toy has already been done. So ... what now?
Peach cobbler yogurt is interesting. Not bad as such. Just interesting. There's some undefinable difference from regular peach. Well, I guess it's not undefinable, it's definable as 'cobbler'.
dawnstar here, but I imagine there's probably a few more, she just IMed me to this effect though) I am, in fact, feeling much better today. I have a few things that want doing, I have energy again, and the sun was out this morning. It's actually supposed to be nice out all week. Maybe I'll watch a movie today though. There's an idea.No more dreams about Ronald Reagan, although I did have serious dreams about having to move my DVD player. Go figure that one. It's not even like that would be /difficult/.
In the interest of continuing a trend of gaining inspiration after I post this: this week's
drabblemania word is a bitch. "Broken toys." Well, Person as Broken Toy has already been done. So ... what now? Peach cobbler yogurt is interesting. Not bad as such. Just interesting. There's some undefinable difference from regular peach. Well, I guess it's not undefinable, it's definable as 'cobbler'.
(See, I told you: it always works.)
Ross winced, bit his tongue to curb the usual stream of curses that stepping on a mysterious something would usually bring, and picked up the offending object with his toes.
It was a small and impractical looking shoe, in a dashing shade of Pepto-Bismol Pink.
"This is yours, darling." he commented mildly, handing it to the small girl sitting on the floor near the game consoles. "Or, well, Barbie's."
She looked up at him for a moment with the same intense-eyed gaze he saw when he looked in the mirror every morning and nodded, setting her short braids bobbing. "Thank you."
"Try not to leave it where your big brother can kill himself on it, please?" Ross retrieved a soda from the minifridge and sat down at the desk again, picking up the stack of papers he was grading.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the shuffle of papers and the tapping of plastic feet on parquet tiles the only sounds.
Claire looked up. "I wanna go to the park." she demanded.
"After I'm done here."
"I wanna go to the park." she insisted.
"Claire, love, I've got to finish this, and then we can go."
Her deep green eyes flashed at him. "I wanna go to the park now!"
As Ross watched, the Barbie that she was holding (by the legs, of course, projectile-style - Claire was never one to play with Barbies the way Mattel intended) seemed to fly towards him in slow-motion -
And then vanished.
Blinking, he ducked under the desk. When he poked his head out again, Barbie was an architectural installation - blank blue eyes staring back at him, up to her waist in drywall.
Ross stared at Barbie, and then at his little sister, and back at Barbie again. She had.
She had timeshifted Barbie.
She was six. Six.
"Would you like something for your headache, darling?" Ross cleared his throat and rummaged through his desk for a bottle of painkiller.
Ross winced, bit his tongue to curb the usual stream of curses that stepping on a mysterious something would usually bring, and picked up the offending object with his toes.
It was a small and impractical looking shoe, in a dashing shade of Pepto-Bismol Pink.
"This is yours, darling." he commented mildly, handing it to the small girl sitting on the floor near the game consoles. "Or, well, Barbie's."
She looked up at him for a moment with the same intense-eyed gaze he saw when he looked in the mirror every morning and nodded, setting her short braids bobbing. "Thank you."
"Try not to leave it where your big brother can kill himself on it, please?" Ross retrieved a soda from the minifridge and sat down at the desk again, picking up the stack of papers he was grading.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the shuffle of papers and the tapping of plastic feet on parquet tiles the only sounds.
Claire looked up. "I wanna go to the park." she demanded.
"After I'm done here."
"I wanna go to the park." she insisted.
"Claire, love, I've got to finish this, and then we can go."
Her deep green eyes flashed at him. "I wanna go to the park now!"
As Ross watched, the Barbie that she was holding (by the legs, of course, projectile-style - Claire was never one to play with Barbies the way Mattel intended) seemed to fly towards him in slow-motion -
And then vanished.
Blinking, he ducked under the desk. When he poked his head out again, Barbie was an architectural installation - blank blue eyes staring back at him, up to her waist in drywall.
Ross stared at Barbie, and then at his little sister, and back at Barbie again. She had.
She had timeshifted Barbie.
She was six. Six.
"Would you like something for your headache, darling?" Ross cleared his throat and rummaged through his desk for a bottle of painkiller.
( Say the secret word and the duck comes down ... )
The stars above them twinkled with the knowing mystery of constellations unseen from one's birthplace - exotic and deep, as though different stars carried more meaning, somehow. The sand beneath them was still warm from the day's heat as they neared eleven o' clock local time.
Frank Sinatra had probably never expected his music to be played here, under the foreign skies of a planet he never knew existed. But romance is universal. He probably would have agreed to that sentiment, in any case.
"You look lovely tonight." Fabian murmured.
"So do you." Jakob replied with a chuckle. "I like the tiara. You always did want to be a faerie princess."
"It's a failing." They swayed gently to the crooning coming from the stereo. I've got a crush on you ... sweetie pie ...
"Regrets?" Fabian asked softly, following the gentle steps of the dance.
"Not a one." Jakob turned to the woman who was standing beside them both and raised an eyebrow at her, laughing; she was mischeviously expectant in her short silver gown and bare feet, the lights from the town nearby outlining her deep blue hair. "Yes, schnookie?"
"It will be my turn soon, I expect?" she laughed. "I mean, it's my anniversary too, not just yours."
"You can have a turn." Fabian stepped aside, straightening his smoking jacket and tiara. "Go ahead."
"Yes, but that's hardly fair. I want to dance with both of you." Audra pouted. "Damn dichotomous thinking. What's a woman with two husbands supposed to do on the dance floor?"
"It depends on how quick you are." Jakob chuckled, looking at both of them thoughtfully. "Okay ... hm. Well, I suppose the only way to do things is for Fabie to stand there - put your arm around Audraschnookie's waist ... like that, and I'll stand on her other side ... there. Now take my hand."
Fabian did so, nuzzling Audra's neck playfully, and she laughed.
"There!" Jakob nodded approvingly, peering over Audra's shoulder at Fabian. "Just like always. A spirited dance, with Audra in the middle. And I'm leading, because you step on things and trip."
The song continued; the three of them began to dance, first awkwardly and then more fluidly, leaving spinning wet footprints across the sand.
"What happens when we dip?" Fabian asked suddenly.
"We'll figure it out somehow."
The stars above them twinkled with the knowing mystery of constellations unseen from one's birthplace - exotic and deep, as though different stars carried more meaning, somehow. The sand beneath them was still warm from the day's heat as they neared eleven o' clock local time.
Frank Sinatra had probably never expected his music to be played here, under the foreign skies of a planet he never knew existed. But romance is universal. He probably would have agreed to that sentiment, in any case.
"You look lovely tonight." Fabian murmured.
"So do you." Jakob replied with a chuckle. "I like the tiara. You always did want to be a faerie princess."
"It's a failing." They swayed gently to the crooning coming from the stereo. I've got a crush on you ... sweetie pie ...
"Regrets?" Fabian asked softly, following the gentle steps of the dance.
"Not a one." Jakob turned to the woman who was standing beside them both and raised an eyebrow at her, laughing; she was mischeviously expectant in her short silver gown and bare feet, the lights from the town nearby outlining her deep blue hair. "Yes, schnookie?"
"It will be my turn soon, I expect?" she laughed. "I mean, it's my anniversary too, not just yours."
"You can have a turn." Fabian stepped aside, straightening his smoking jacket and tiara. "Go ahead."
"Yes, but that's hardly fair. I want to dance with both of you." Audra pouted. "Damn dichotomous thinking. What's a woman with two husbands supposed to do on the dance floor?"
"It depends on how quick you are." Jakob chuckled, looking at both of them thoughtfully. "Okay ... hm. Well, I suppose the only way to do things is for Fabie to stand there - put your arm around Audraschnookie's waist ... like that, and I'll stand on her other side ... there. Now take my hand."
Fabian did so, nuzzling Audra's neck playfully, and she laughed.
"There!" Jakob nodded approvingly, peering over Audra's shoulder at Fabian. "Just like always. A spirited dance, with Audra in the middle. And I'm leading, because you step on things and trip."
The song continued; the three of them began to dance, first awkwardly and then more fluidly, leaving spinning wet footprints across the sand.
"What happens when we dip?" Fabian asked suddenly.
"We'll figure it out somehow."
(Now you can pretend it's yesterday.)
(Yes, I'm posting a lot. I feel better. Deal. :-D)
( Evan Donnelly. )
(Yes, I'm posting a lot. I feel better. Deal. :-D)
( Evan Donnelly. )
The opposite of wild nights
Jun. 13th, 2004 10:19 pmDinner was leftover breakfast (egg pie) + leftover soup (leek and potato).
We tried the Red Berry Kissel recipe from Moosewood Low Fat Favorites, and found it very tasty and very runny. Needs at least twice the amount of cornstarch in order to set properly next time, I think. But it's still good with vanilla bean ice cream.
But what isn't?
Well, turkey, I suppose, or pastrami on rye. But I digress. I'm in a very digressy mood.
I'm still feeling much better. I attribute this to a productive writing-day and a good book. (Good Omens; yes, I had not read it before. No, I don't know why I hadn't read it before. Given that I was dying with laughter by page six, I sorely regret not reading it before.) I'm about of a third of a way through, and given my short attention span of late, that's really something.
Time for sleep soon, I think, when the Boy decides that bed is in his future.
We tried the Red Berry Kissel recipe from Moosewood Low Fat Favorites, and found it very tasty and very runny. Needs at least twice the amount of cornstarch in order to set properly next time, I think. But it's still good with vanilla bean ice cream.
But what isn't?
Well, turkey, I suppose, or pastrami on rye. But I digress. I'm in a very digressy mood.
I'm still feeling much better. I attribute this to a productive writing-day and a good book. (Good Omens; yes, I had not read it before. No, I don't know why I hadn't read it before. Given that I was dying with laughter by page six, I sorely regret not reading it before.) I'm about of a third of a way through, and given my short attention span of late, that's really something.
Time for sleep soon, I think, when the Boy decides that bed is in his future.
