|I think Maia is contemplating evil.|
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Fair warning: the annual St. Hilaire family huckleberry picking trip is this Sunday through Tuesday, which means blogging will be even more sporadic next week than it was this week. (I only missed one post this week... next week, it might be three. And no, I haven't got a good excuse for this week's failure. It was just one thing too many to think about.)
I want to get a Harry Potter post done, but it's not particularly likely to happen. If it does, it'll be Wednesday or Thursday, unless I wind up with lots of spare time tomorrow.
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|Anniversary flowers from my true love.|
He also got me this card. Because robots and flying cars are awesome, and so is he.
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To be shamelessly honest, I'm a grumpy detoxer. I miss sugar. And coffee. And cheap beer. (No, I do not generally have bad taste. I just can't help it if I like Pabst and Miller.)
Halfway through this month's cleanse, I am making myself eat the recommended amount of vegetables... oh, maybe every third or fourth day. There are aphids on my kale. I love kale, but I hate aphids. I refuse to eat them, which means picking carefully over every leaf. Two cups of vegetables per day? Not at that pace. Sorry.
But thank heaven for cucumbers and onions.
This was also the first day of the month that I got up early and have been working faithfully through my to-do list. I've gotten so much done that I might try the same thing again. Sometimes virtue is its own reward. Of course, next week's three days of camping—with no computer or garden or piano, no work schedule, little sleep—not to mention that we'll all live on hot dogs and cheap beer, and won't bother to pack our vitamins... yeah, that's totally going to throw me off.
* 4 *
The apple project is mostly complete, except for picking up windfall mash, but the garden isn't letting up. I cut the oregano recently, much to the annoyance of several hives of bees:
|Me to Lou:|
"I'm a bit concerned that we won't have enough oregano for, like,
the next 25 years, or something."
|That's a lot of salsa.|
* 5 *
From last month's subbing-in, here's what trying to rehearse choir conducting is like with a cat around. I thought I should have been left to work in peace, but according to Maia, I shouldn't expect peace if I mean to work sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Maia: "NEW GAME."
Me: "No. Not new game. Get off my hymnal. I actually have to be able to see the music."
Maia: "Fine, I'll lie on these papers instead. Wave your arms again. This is fun."
Me: "That's my song list, and don't you dare swat at me. Put the claws away."
Maia: "It's a comfortable song list. MOVING HANDS. I will CATCH them."
Me: "Ow! Do that again, and you're exiled."
Maia: "Fine, if you won’t wave your hands... EVIL KNEE. I KILLS IT."At which point she was banished from the room, and the door summarily slammed behind her.
* 6 *
So yeah, I have a complicated relationship with feminism. There's a long-running debate in my head about whether to call myself a feminist. But... this. This Sophia McDougall op-ed over at New Statesman is how I feel about "strong female characters" in fiction—and about the odd lack of female characters in fiction in general. (Advisory: occasional swearing.)
We need more Jane Austens in this world. I try to be one, in my own name and spirit. I like magic and unicorns too much to write in her genre, and I'm more pensive than witty. But I try to be like her nonetheless.
* 7 *
Music of the week: This song was played at our wedding. It was also played as a prelude before Mass on our anniversary, courtesy of a scheming member of our schola and the pianist. Thanks, guys. :)
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Happy weekend! This blog returns at the middle or end of next week, depending on how long it takes the blogger to get showered and unpacked and freeze the huckleberries....