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Jun. 10th, 2025 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dustbunny105Maybe I was more worried about the fire safety inspection than I thought because I woke up today with a nasty, nauseous headache that turned into a migraine. Ended up calling out. I still don't feel great now, tbh.
Possibly the worst part, though? I tried to put a positive spin on it, thinking that I'd at least be home to set Peppercorn free after the inspectors came through. Then, when I double-checked the time? I realized I'd misread or misremembered the notice-- the inspection is tomorrow. Go figure!
Possibly the worst part, though? I tried to put a positive spin on it, thinking that I'd at least be home to set Peppercorn free after the inspectors came through. Then, when I double-checked the time? I realized I'd misread or misremembered the notice-- the inspection is tomorrow. Go figure!
Recent theater
Jun. 10th, 2025 06:36 pmtroisoiseauxEmily Burns' new adaptation of Frankenstein at the Shakespeare Theatre Company is phenomenal— I've been struggling to explain it in a way that a. doesn't undersell how well it works and b. isn't just the Jenny Slate Drunk History meme, but trust me, it's so good. It's a reimagining of Mary Shelley's original plot— the first half takes the events of Victor's return to Geneva and re-centers it on his foster sister/fiancée(!) Elizabeth, and on Justine, the servant framed for the murder of Victor's younger brother; the second half departs from the book entirely, but has more than a little of Mary and Percy Shelley's history in its DNA— with a distinctly contemporary voice, but it weaves in Mary Shelley's original text in ways that carry new meanings: ( ... ) The dynamic between Victor and Elizabeth is messed up in a way that makes for delicious theater— Victor is the worst, in an "abusive boyfriend learns therapy words" way that, I swear, you could feel the audience (which, at least where I was sitting, skewed towards younger women) mentally screaming for Elizabeth to throw the entire man out; this play leans into the Gothic faux-cest vibes with flashbacks to the pair of them sniping like siblings— and the main theme is one of parents and children, explored through three different plot threads: obviously, that of Victor Frankenstein's refusal to take responsibility for the creature he created, which hangs over most of the play as an unspoken but omnipresent rebuke; the undercurrent of grief (mutual), resentment (Victor's), and guilt (Elizabeth's) over the fact that Victor's mother died because she'd nursed Elizabeth when she was ill; and ( spoilers! )
Also saw The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical at the Signature Theater, having finally wised up to the fact that if a new musical is being produced in DC it's probably on its way to Broadway, so I might as well see it now. (Cheaper tickets! Potential bragging rights!) This is exactly what it says on the tin - a rock musical by Joe Iconis about writer Hunter S. Thompson, father of Gonzo journalism in the 1960s-70s - and certainly timely; to lean into the inevitable Hamilton comparisons, Hunter...'s Burr is Richard Nixon as a so-sleezy-it's-camp psychopomp haunting Thompson's final hours as he runs through his life story, and the parallels to, you know, that other guy are about as subtle as a bonk to the head. Very meta, overall: as it goes on, the other characters begin to confront Thompson over his version of events and demand to speak for themselves. There was a frequent use of puppets, including a peacock, a baby that could make a fight the man! fist and flip the bird, and a giant Nixon head. (Yes, in addition to the actor playing Nixon. It was a whole thing.) I enjoyed this a lot!! But the one downside of seeing a show so early in the pipeline is that I've had random snippets of lyrics and melodies floating around in my head for days and there's no cast recording to listen to. (ETA: There is an official trailer, though!)
Also saw The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical at the Signature Theater, having finally wised up to the fact that if a new musical is being produced in DC it's probably on its way to Broadway, so I might as well see it now. (Cheaper tickets! Potential bragging rights!) This is exactly what it says on the tin - a rock musical by Joe Iconis about writer Hunter S. Thompson, father of Gonzo journalism in the 1960s-70s - and certainly timely; to lean into the inevitable Hamilton comparisons, Hunter...'s Burr is Richard Nixon as a so-sleezy-it's-camp psychopomp haunting Thompson's final hours as he runs through his life story, and the parallels to, you know, that other guy are about as subtle as a bonk to the head. Very meta, overall: as it goes on, the other characters begin to confront Thompson over his version of events and demand to speak for themselves. There was a frequent use of puppets, including a peacock, a baby that could make a fight the man! fist and flip the bird, and a giant Nixon head. (Yes, in addition to the actor playing Nixon. It was a whole thing.) I enjoyed this a lot!! But the one downside of seeing a show so early in the pipeline is that I've had random snippets of lyrics and melodies floating around in my head for days and there's no cast recording to listen to. (ETA: There is an official trailer, though!)
Conclave made me do it
Jun. 10th, 2025 10:43 pmdhampyresa
I first got interested in Sophie Clark's "Cruel is the Light" because the cover is really pretty. I wasn't going to read it because while the marketing said "enemies to lovers" the summary wasn't sound "enemy-ing" enough.
Then the Pope died.
And I thought I'd read a book sent mostly in Rome because I had no idea what to read next, fiction-wise.
Cruel is the Light is... Fine. It's fine. It indeed isn't enemies to lovers, it's more rivals to lovers forbidden love fake dating. The love story isn't unbelievable, anymore than any two week love story is. I guessed both that
from the summary
Jules was a demonfrom early in the book
the Vatican's god was a demonThen the Pope died.
Ok, in the book he's "Exorcist Primus". Point is they're going to be doing X-Treme Conclave next book and I am intrigued.
The Dawnhounds by Sascha Stronach (2019)
Jun. 10th, 2025 01:13 pmpauraqueNote: Stronach came out as trans after this book was published, so earlier reviews may misgender her, as does the cover bio.
In this first book of a planned fantasy trilogy (of which two books have so far been released), we're introduced to the city of Hainak, a seaport that's just been through a political revolution, as well as an alchemical-biological magitech revolution. Our main character is Yat, a naive cop who wants to be a hero, but instead she's just been demoted for being queer. As her life crumbles into a haze of drugs and disillusionment, she stumbles into the doings of a secret faction, gets murdered, and finds herself resurrected with new powers that allow her to manipulate life force with her mind, all of which gives her a very different perspective on what a hero is and what she actually wants to fight for.
So... I really wanted to like this. I did enjoy the Māori-inspired worldbuilding and the author's vivid visual imagination, filling the city with a profusion of bizarre wonders as well as a strong sense of place. I also liked a lot of the characters and cared what happened to them. But ultimately I found the book didn't have enough structure to hold together.
It's being marketed as akin to Tamsyn Muir's Locked Tomb series, and I think that comparison pinpoints the problem. Many aspects of the book do seem similar—there's magic with body horror, fantasy with sci-fi, loads of queerness... as well as byzantine political intrigue, misdirections about characters' identities, conversations that don't specify what's being discussed, and long monologues from unidentified speakers. But the reason all the confusing stuff works when Muir does it is that she does eventually provide enough information for you to fit all the pieces together, and on re-reading you discover that all the things that initially confused you actually make complete sense and Muir had a plan all along. And maybe Stronach also has a plan in her head, but if so it didn't make it onto the page. The book ends in a muddle of events that seem superficially dramatic but don't actually explain that much or draw the needed connections between the disparate plot elements.
The part of the book that's presented the most clearly is Yat's journey of realizing that the police only protect the powerful and serve the status quo, so if she wants to be a hero to the downtrodden then being a cop isn't the way to do it. Which would be a perfectly reasonable character arc, except that Yat's backstory is that she was an orphan living on the streets and she saw firsthand on a daily basis what cops are like, so why is her story about her "realizing" something she already knows? I guess she's supposed to be in deep denial, but it just didn't make any sense to me.
Some reviews I read had also led me to believe that the book has a lot more pirate content than it actually does. I mean, it does have pirates! But I felt cheated that we didn't spend more time with them, both because pirates are awesome and because the backstory of these specific pirates was super intriguing but criminally underexplained. I often felt like the book was barely intersecting the outskirts of a way more interesting story centered on the pirate captain and her crew, and wondered why they weren't the main characters.
Anyway, I think there was a lot of potential here but it didn't cohere enough for me to want to continue with the series. Too bad.
In this first book of a planned fantasy trilogy (of which two books have so far been released), we're introduced to the city of Hainak, a seaport that's just been through a political revolution, as well as an alchemical-biological magitech revolution. Our main character is Yat, a naive cop who wants to be a hero, but instead she's just been demoted for being queer. As her life crumbles into a haze of drugs and disillusionment, she stumbles into the doings of a secret faction, gets murdered, and finds herself resurrected with new powers that allow her to manipulate life force with her mind, all of which gives her a very different perspective on what a hero is and what she actually wants to fight for.
So... I really wanted to like this. I did enjoy the Māori-inspired worldbuilding and the author's vivid visual imagination, filling the city with a profusion of bizarre wonders as well as a strong sense of place. I also liked a lot of the characters and cared what happened to them. But ultimately I found the book didn't have enough structure to hold together.
It's being marketed as akin to Tamsyn Muir's Locked Tomb series, and I think that comparison pinpoints the problem. Many aspects of the book do seem similar—there's magic with body horror, fantasy with sci-fi, loads of queerness... as well as byzantine political intrigue, misdirections about characters' identities, conversations that don't specify what's being discussed, and long monologues from unidentified speakers. But the reason all the confusing stuff works when Muir does it is that she does eventually provide enough information for you to fit all the pieces together, and on re-reading you discover that all the things that initially confused you actually make complete sense and Muir had a plan all along. And maybe Stronach also has a plan in her head, but if so it didn't make it onto the page. The book ends in a muddle of events that seem superficially dramatic but don't actually explain that much or draw the needed connections between the disparate plot elements.
The part of the book that's presented the most clearly is Yat's journey of realizing that the police only protect the powerful and serve the status quo, so if she wants to be a hero to the downtrodden then being a cop isn't the way to do it. Which would be a perfectly reasonable character arc, except that Yat's backstory is that she was an orphan living on the streets and she saw firsthand on a daily basis what cops are like, so why is her story about her "realizing" something she already knows? I guess she's supposed to be in deep denial, but it just didn't make any sense to me.
Some reviews I read had also led me to believe that the book has a lot more pirate content than it actually does. I mean, it does have pirates! But I felt cheated that we didn't spend more time with them, both because pirates are awesome and because the backstory of these specific pirates was super intriguing but criminally underexplained. I often felt like the book was barely intersecting the outskirts of a way more interesting story centered on the pirate captain and her crew, and wondered why they weren't the main characters.
Anyway, I think there was a lot of potential here but it didn't cohere enough for me to want to continue with the series. Too bad.
Just Another Day in Paradise (Monday)
Jun. 10th, 2025 09:35 amlydamorehouseThe weather here has been overcast and rainy. As Shawn told a somewhat uncertain staff person, “It’s gorgeous!” (The staff was concerned that she was being sarcastic. Shawn assured her that she was not.) Our family is very happily indoorsy. So, we spent much of the day inside, by a roaring fire, reading.
However, the weather cleared up on and off, and during one of the ‘on’s, Shawn and I headed out for an early morning canoe. We tend to canoe much like we hike, which is to say, we don’t go all that far, and we glide along at a snail’s pace.
Image: Shawn in a canoe at Bearskin
I’ve also resumed my quest to walk as many of Bearskin’s ski trails as I feel is reasonable. I tend to enjoy a hike to a destination like Sunday’s accidental trip to Rudy Lake, but not all of the ski trails are set up for vistas. In fact, most of them aren’t. A person can tell, even as hiker, how excellent they are for skiers. So many up and down slopes! We are technically in the Pincushion Mountains here, (though people from the Coasts are allowed to scoff at what we call mountains around here.) However, the elevation changes are real! In fact, it usually takes me a few days to get used to the steep slopes. This time, having just come from Middletown, CT, which I feel like was built entirely at a 45-degree angle (all of it uphill!), I didn’t seem to need as much time.
At any rate, this year, I decided to try and find Ox Cart. FYI, an Ox Cart would not make it around this loop. I mean, I guess oxen are strong? But pulling a cart would be tough! Skiing however? It would be glorious.
Bob, the owner of Bearskin, did want to point out that if I walked Ox Cart, I would see the new boardwalk that they installed.
The boardwalk goes over a very marshy, swampy area. A place that my family would call “very moosey,” as this seems to be the sort of areas that we imagine moose tend to enjoy. This is a highly unscientific “hot take,” however. The one time that we saw moose in the wild, while hiking (at, of all places, “Moose Viewing Trail”) there was a place a little like this, though much more lake-y and slightly less boggy/swampy.
Moosey view.
I did not see moose here.
I will note, however, that I did see moose tracks and what was very obviously moose scat on my way back out of this trail. So, perhaps our family is not entirely wrong as to what constitutes a moosey place.
Much of my hike was just woods.
Image: wooded path
However, I have been trying to stop and take pictures of wildflowers that I’ve been seeing on my hikes. Here are a few:
Image: pussy feet? Something like that (looking for id,pameladean !)
Image: star flower
However, the weather cleared up on and off, and during one of the ‘on’s, Shawn and I headed out for an early morning canoe. We tend to canoe much like we hike, which is to say, we don’t go all that far, and we glide along at a snail’s pace.
Image: Shawn in a canoe at Bearskin
I’ve also resumed my quest to walk as many of Bearskin’s ski trails as I feel is reasonable. I tend to enjoy a hike to a destination like Sunday’s accidental trip to Rudy Lake, but not all of the ski trails are set up for vistas. In fact, most of them aren’t. A person can tell, even as hiker, how excellent they are for skiers. So many up and down slopes! We are technically in the Pincushion Mountains here, (though people from the Coasts are allowed to scoff at what we call mountains around here.) However, the elevation changes are real! In fact, it usually takes me a few days to get used to the steep slopes. This time, having just come from Middletown, CT, which I feel like was built entirely at a 45-degree angle (all of it uphill!), I didn’t seem to need as much time.
At any rate, this year, I decided to try and find Ox Cart. FYI, an Ox Cart would not make it around this loop. I mean, I guess oxen are strong? But pulling a cart would be tough! Skiing however? It would be glorious.
Bob, the owner of Bearskin, did want to point out that if I walked Ox Cart, I would see the new boardwalk that they installed.
The boardwalk goes over a very marshy, swampy area. A place that my family would call “very moosey,” as this seems to be the sort of areas that we imagine moose tend to enjoy. This is a highly unscientific “hot take,” however. The one time that we saw moose in the wild, while hiking (at, of all places, “Moose Viewing Trail”) there was a place a little like this, though much more lake-y and slightly less boggy/swampy.
Moosey view.
I did not see moose here.
I will note, however, that I did see moose tracks and what was very obviously moose scat on my way back out of this trail. So, perhaps our family is not entirely wrong as to what constitutes a moosey place.
Much of my hike was just woods.
Image: wooded path
However, I have been trying to stop and take pictures of wildflowers that I’ve been seeing on my hikes. Here are a few:
Image: pussy feet? Something like that (looking for id,
pameladean !)Image: star flower
A quick note for me and others
Jun. 9th, 2025 11:32 pmsholio![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
justmarriedexchange nominations close tomorrow (the 10th).I will almost certainly be signing up for this one, I'm just saying. And you do need three distinct fandoms for this exchange.
*my existing assignments side-eye me*
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Jun. 9th, 2025 07:33 pmdustbunny105Fire safety inspection tomorrow. Aaand I've got stuff all over the place because of being partway into reorganizing-- not only my room either. And my mom is out of town, so it's on me.
I wish they would give more advance notice of these things. Be nice if they did them on the weekend, too, even though I get why they don't. S'just frustrating. I hate having to leave the front door unlocked, I hate having to lock Peppercorn up all day and I hate people being in here when I'm not here. Blergh. Might or might not be a good idea but I left the tidying up for the morning. My head was just not there tonight and I knew if I started, I was going to be so inefficient as to keep myself awake later than I should and probably still not get things done to my satisfaction. Even if getting things done mostly means piling the clutter into my closet. Some sleep and the urgency of the morning will help me power through it. Maybe I can convince my sister to hang out here with the kids until the inspectors come and go, so she can lock up and set Peppercorn free.
I wish they would give more advance notice of these things. Be nice if they did them on the weekend, too, even though I get why they don't. S'just frustrating. I hate having to leave the front door unlocked, I hate having to lock Peppercorn up all day and I hate people being in here when I'm not here. Blergh. Might or might not be a good idea but I left the tidying up for the morning. My head was just not there tonight and I knew if I started, I was going to be so inefficient as to keep myself awake later than I should and probably still not get things done to my satisfaction. Even if getting things done mostly means piling the clutter into my closet. Some sleep and the urgency of the morning will help me power through it. Maybe I can convince my sister to hang out here with the kids until the inspectors come and go, so she can lock up and set Peppercorn free.
Weekly proof of life (belated again): sentimentality, reading habits, household things...
Jun. 9th, 2025 04:10 pmumadoshiCat Herding: Our beloved Jinksy!bear turned twelve on Saturday. Twelve! He's (by a margin of a good few years) the second-oldest cat I've ever had, and continues to be just the sweetest, softest boy. May he be with us in good health for years to come.
It was also Claudia's birthday, of course, and I always think of her on their birthday. Oh, my darling baby cat.
*The oldest was Jenny, the cat of my childhood who was still with my parents for years after I moved out. She made it to nineteen, most of that time in rock-solid health, and never really forgave me for moving to Toronto and thus straight-up vanishing from her life for months at a time.
Reading: I finished reading Jennifer 8 Lee's The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food, which remained an interesting read right through, and read Adrian Tchaikovsky's City of Last Chances, which I think is only the second thing of his I've read? (Elder Race is the other one I'm sure of.) Having finished it, I'm in a position that's annoyingly familiar, where I liked the book quite a bit and am curious about what happens next, but am not sure I cared enough that I'll ever actually get around to picking up the sequel.
(The thing where I've almost entirely been reading books I own for years now doesn't really help, where I've often picked up the first book of a trilogy of series or whatever on sale in ebook because I've heard it's good, and then am not sure I'm invested enough to pay full price on the next one when I own literally hundreds of yet-unread books. Feh.)
Watching:scruloose and I are up to date on Murderbot and have seen the first episode of Kingdom season 2.
In the case of the former, I'm skeptical about the nqqvgvba bs n punenpgre jub qbrfa'g nccrne va gur obbxf ng nyy--juvpu V'z abg vaureragyl ntnvafg, tvira gung gur fubj vf pyrneyl vgf bja guvat, naq V'z thrffvat fur'f gurer gb pbairl fbzrguvat gung jbhyq'ir orra gevpxl gb qb gur fnzr jnl va guvf sbezng nf va gur abiryyn. Ohg fur'fnaablvat , naq V'yy cebonoyl xrrc svaqvat ure naablvat jurgure fur vf va snpg freivat jung V pheeragyl guvax vf ure cebonoyr shapgvba (rarzl ntrag znfdhrenqvat nf nyyl) be fbzrguvat zber vagrerfgvat. [ROT13] Guess we'll find out soon!
Working: Thank goodness the manga I'm working right now is (as usual) a fairly easy rewrite and not a tight deadline, because scrounging the mental energy for freelance work has been frustratingly hard recently. I'm almost halfway through my draft and have about a week and a half left with it, so it's fine, but. :/
Weathering/Householding: We've had a lot of gray days and some high-ish temperatures combined with humidity (which I hate), and the air quality, while not remotely as bad as it is in a lot of places, has been fluctuating significantly...and the AC function of the heat pumps is essentially nonfunctional. >.< This is crappy timing, given how much of the time over the last several days has required having the windows closed (and the air purifiers running for good measure, although they don't address some of the nastiness from wildfire smoke). And for bonus fun, while the heat pumps are still under warranty, the company we bought them from went under a few months ago, which complicates things. (I think possibly the main person died. :/)
That said,scruloose made a bunch of calls today and we have reason to hope that someone can come in and take a look at them soon, if that particular company has the parts in stock. And while it's been uncomfortably warm inside some of the time because of this, at least it's not full summer yet. Hopefully we can get things dealt with by the time summer heat arrives in earnest.
And on a purely pleasant note, a couple nights ago we were in a phase of "somehow the air quality is fine outside right now, so we can just open the windows and run fans" while it was pleasantly cool and raining atmospherically and the wind was doing a wonderful job of wafting the smell of the lilacs into the living room.
It was also Claudia's birthday, of course, and I always think of her on their birthday. Oh, my darling baby cat.
*The oldest was Jenny, the cat of my childhood who was still with my parents for years after I moved out. She made it to nineteen, most of that time in rock-solid health, and never really forgave me for moving to Toronto and thus straight-up vanishing from her life for months at a time.
Reading: I finished reading Jennifer 8 Lee's The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food, which remained an interesting read right through, and read Adrian Tchaikovsky's City of Last Chances, which I think is only the second thing of his I've read? (Elder Race is the other one I'm sure of.) Having finished it, I'm in a position that's annoyingly familiar, where I liked the book quite a bit and am curious about what happens next, but am not sure I cared enough that I'll ever actually get around to picking up the sequel.
(The thing where I've almost entirely been reading books I own for years now doesn't really help, where I've often picked up the first book of a trilogy of series or whatever on sale in ebook because I've heard it's good, and then am not sure I'm invested enough to pay full price on the next one when I own literally hundreds of yet-unread books. Feh.)
Watching:
scruloose and I are up to date on Murderbot and have seen the first episode of Kingdom season 2.In the case of the former, I'm skeptical about the nqqvgvba bs n punenpgre jub qbrfa'g nccrne va gur obbxf ng nyy--juvpu V'z abg vaureragyl ntnvafg, tvira gung gur fubj vf pyrneyl vgf bja guvat, naq V'z thrffvat fur'f gurer gb pbairl fbzrguvat gung jbhyq'ir orra gevpxl gb qb gur fnzr jnl va guvf sbezng nf va gur abiryyn. Ohg fur'f
Working: Thank goodness the manga I'm working right now is (as usual) a fairly easy rewrite and not a tight deadline, because scrounging the mental energy for freelance work has been frustratingly hard recently. I'm almost halfway through my draft and have about a week and a half left with it, so it's fine, but. :/
Weathering/Householding: We've had a lot of gray days and some high-ish temperatures combined with humidity (which I hate), and the air quality, while not remotely as bad as it is in a lot of places, has been fluctuating significantly...and the AC function of the heat pumps is essentially nonfunctional. >.< This is crappy timing, given how much of the time over the last several days has required having the windows closed (and the air purifiers running for good measure, although they don't address some of the nastiness from wildfire smoke). And for bonus fun, while the heat pumps are still under warranty, the company we bought them from went under a few months ago, which complicates things. (I think possibly the main person died. :/)
That said,
scruloose made a bunch of calls today and we have reason to hope that someone can come in and take a look at them soon, if that particular company has the parts in stock. And while it's been uncomfortably warm inside some of the time because of this, at least it's not full summer yet. Hopefully we can get things dealt with by the time summer heat arrives in earnest.And on a purely pleasant note, a couple nights ago we were in a phase of "somehow the air quality is fine outside right now, so we can just open the windows and run fans" while it was pleasantly cool and raining atmospherically and the wind was doing a wonderful job of wafting the smell of the lilacs into the living room.
Book Review: Little Dancer Aged Fourteen
Jun. 9th, 2025 01:52 pmosprey_archerThe university where I work happens to have a bronze cast of Degas’ “Little Dancer Aged Fourteen”, so before I read Camille Laurens’ book of the same name (recommended by troisoiseaux), I went to have a good long look at the sculpture.
It’s less than life-size - perhaps two-thirds, one-half the size of the actual fourteen-year-old dancer. You can see the bronze creases in her stockings at the ankles and knees, the places where socks begin to wear out. Her forehead slopes back sharply, more sharply really than I think the human forehead can. Her hair hangs down her back in a rope braid, which is tied with a golden satin ribbon. A real ribbon, fabric rather than bronze.
She wears, too, a cloth tutu, and the curator told us (when I visited with my parents months ago) that the tutu has to be replaced every now and then, always to great debate about exactly how it should look, as the tutu on Degas’ original statue (wax, not bronze) was long gone when collectors decided to make a metal cast. How long should it be? What color? What kind of fabric?
The one at my university is about knee-length, much pleated, creamy pale layers of some fabric that might be tulle, the outer layer purposely frayed for the bottom quarter inch or so. The dancer’s feet are in the fourth position, but her hands are behind her back, and seem rather large for her size.
Thus prepared, I dived into Camille Laurens’ Little Dancer Age Fourteen: The True Story Behind Degas’ Masterpiece, translated by Willard Wood. Laurens is attempting to write a biography of Marie van Goethem, the girl who posed for the famous sculpture, but as there is very little material about Marie, it becomes a hodgepodge of other things, including a partial biography of Degas (and indeed it’s filed under his name at my library).
The book is also about the historical conditions of the young dancers at the Paris Opera, who were called rats and generally assumed to offer sexual favors on the side, giving the ballet a scandalous vibe that most 21st century viewers probably don’t pick up from looking at Degas’ pictures, since nowadays ballet is seen as a refined high art. (Is a picture, or a sculpture, worth a thousand words? Or can it tell us anything that we don’t already know?)
And it’s about the initial reception of Little Dancer Aged Fourteen, which more or less universally appalled viewers when it was first exhibited. Was it because Degas modeled the sculpture’s head to fit what was then considered the physiognomy of criminals? (Hence the sharply sloping forehead.) The association of ballet dancers with prostitution, which perhaps becomes a little queasy-making when you look at this flat-chested statue of a child?
Or the fact that the original statue was modeled in grayish wax, so the little dancer must have looked just a little corpse-like? A completely different viewing experience than the bronze cast I studied so carefully.
Degas, Laurens notes, was upset about the restoration attempts on a famous painting in the Louvre, a Rembrandt if I recall correctly. It was not the quality of the attempt that he objected to, but the fact that an attempt was made at all. Art, Degas thought, is a living thing; and like all living things, an artwork has its time to die.
troisoiseaux), I went to have a good long look at the sculpture. It’s less than life-size - perhaps two-thirds, one-half the size of the actual fourteen-year-old dancer. You can see the bronze creases in her stockings at the ankles and knees, the places where socks begin to wear out. Her forehead slopes back sharply, more sharply really than I think the human forehead can. Her hair hangs down her back in a rope braid, which is tied with a golden satin ribbon. A real ribbon, fabric rather than bronze.
She wears, too, a cloth tutu, and the curator told us (when I visited with my parents months ago) that the tutu has to be replaced every now and then, always to great debate about exactly how it should look, as the tutu on Degas’ original statue (wax, not bronze) was long gone when collectors decided to make a metal cast. How long should it be? What color? What kind of fabric?
The one at my university is about knee-length, much pleated, creamy pale layers of some fabric that might be tulle, the outer layer purposely frayed for the bottom quarter inch or so. The dancer’s feet are in the fourth position, but her hands are behind her back, and seem rather large for her size.
Thus prepared, I dived into Camille Laurens’ Little Dancer Age Fourteen: The True Story Behind Degas’ Masterpiece, translated by Willard Wood. Laurens is attempting to write a biography of Marie van Goethem, the girl who posed for the famous sculpture, but as there is very little material about Marie, it becomes a hodgepodge of other things, including a partial biography of Degas (and indeed it’s filed under his name at my library).
The book is also about the historical conditions of the young dancers at the Paris Opera, who were called rats and generally assumed to offer sexual favors on the side, giving the ballet a scandalous vibe that most 21st century viewers probably don’t pick up from looking at Degas’ pictures, since nowadays ballet is seen as a refined high art. (Is a picture, or a sculpture, worth a thousand words? Or can it tell us anything that we don’t already know?)
And it’s about the initial reception of Little Dancer Aged Fourteen, which more or less universally appalled viewers when it was first exhibited. Was it because Degas modeled the sculpture’s head to fit what was then considered the physiognomy of criminals? (Hence the sharply sloping forehead.) The association of ballet dancers with prostitution, which perhaps becomes a little queasy-making when you look at this flat-chested statue of a child?
Or the fact that the original statue was modeled in grayish wax, so the little dancer must have looked just a little corpse-like? A completely different viewing experience than the bronze cast I studied so carefully.
Degas, Laurens notes, was upset about the restoration attempts on a famous painting in the Louvre, a Rembrandt if I recall correctly. It was not the quality of the attempt that he objected to, but the fact that an attempt was made at all. Art, Degas thought, is a living thing; and like all living things, an artwork has its time to die.
Just Another Day in Paradise (Days 1-2.5)
Jun. 9th, 2025 09:19 amlydamorehouseWe are at Bearskin!
The moon (and traces of Northern Lights) over Bearskin (from Cabin 1)
Yesterday, as usual, we stopped at several sites along Highway 61. We had a late lunch at the “world famous” Betty’s Pie. I do not know if this pie is truly well-known throughout the world, but it was, as they say, damned good pie.
The three of us at Betty's Pies.
As has become typical of us, we stopped to do some agate hunting about a mile north of Two Harbors at Flood Bay. We had to backtrack from Betty’s, but we didn’t care. My family simply cannot be hurried once we’re in vacation mode. Once we’ve made it to Duluth (to-du-loot!) vacation mode has fully activated. “Oh? The thing we wanted to see was back there? Sure, let’s turn around!”
Me and Mason agate hunting at Floor Bay.
I’m not ever sure what an agate looks like when it’s not polished. Not that it matters to any of us. Shawn hands out plastic baggies and we find a nice spot and start hunting. On this trip, it was extra windy. It was already decently cold, maybe mid-50s F/ 10 C. We joked that the windchill made it below freezing! Shawn had to hike back to the car for extra layers.
But, we had a great time just relaxing and sifting through the rocks on the shores of the world’s largest freshwater lake. (And, as Mason loves to point out, a lake so cold that if you’re shipwrecked in it, you don’t rot!)
Mason beach combing
Next was a pitstop at Gooseberry Falls. Sometimes, like a lot of travelers this time of year, we only stop long enough to do our business and then push on. This time, however, Mason and I decided to make the short trek up to see both the high falls and the low falls. Shawn, meanwhile, saved her knee (which is mostly doing well, but technically still in recovery,) for the next beach and hung out in the gift shop looking for, among other things, sweatpants for Mason who—for reasons all his own—decided not to pack any pants for the trip. Only shorts!
Gooseberry Falls, in my opinion, is almost always worth the detour.
Image: Gooseberry Falls
I only remembered after we’d left that I forgot to get my State Park passport stamped! We decided, however, that we would stop in as many State Parks as we could on our route back. Mason and I are also planning a day trip out to Devil’s Kettle, so I have be sure to remember to bring it with me to that hike!
I had advocated for a stop at Iona’s Beach this year but changed my mind after experiencing the wind at Flood Bay. Maybe the weather will be more cooperative on the drive home. Instead, we decided to pull in at Silver Bay to get a gander at "Rocky Taconite."
Image: Rocky Taconite at Silver Bay.
Our last beach of the trip up to the cabin was Cutface Creek Pullout (14 miles north of Lutsen, mile marker 104.) This beach is famous for its thomsonite. Again, I have no idea what thomsonite looks like in the wild (although this might be the year I may have found a piece. I’m going to try polishing it up when we get back home), but this beach generally has cool rocks because it has a ton of mini geodes.
Again, we dawdled. I have no idea how long we spent combing the beaches and listening to the waves. This beach was less windy; it was much more of a natural windbreak/cove.
We managed to miss official check-in at Bearskin (6 pm), which we often do (even leaving the Twin Cities at 9 am), and so followed the instructions to get the cabin key for check-in the next morning. It was still light enough out that Mason and I made the walk up to the Lodge to pick up the aluminum canoe that they on the beach for us out for us. We paddled it to our dock, bungied it up to our private dock for the night, and then settled in for a dinner of brats on the grill.
I fully failed to make a decent fire our first night, but luckily both Shawn and Mason are better skilled at this than I am.
This morning (Sunday) we woke up to rain.
Shawn and I walked down to the Lodge to check in. Because of all of the forest fires that are active in Minnesota right now, the Forest Service has been doing a lot of clearing of what they call “ladder trees,” but also underbrush. The place looks… a little devestated. At least in comparison to what we’re used to. I have been excited to resume my hiking of the ski trails this year and so I wanted to be sure to ask the staff about good trails for less… husbandry, we’ll say. They nicely pointed out where on the map they thought the Forestry Service hadn’t gotten to yet. So, after a quick jog back to Cabin 1 to make sure I had my inhaler, I headed off. I’d intended to slowly get my “sea legs” back, but I missed a turn off and hiked all the way to Rudy Lake.
Image: a pristine lake (Rudy Lake) in the middle of nowhere.
Oops.
It is cool, however. Like, this is a lake you simply can not get to without walking to it. There are no roads to get you here.
However, I am a little sore and may have overdone it already on day one. Hopefully, with a bit of rest and Aleve, I’ll be back at it in no time.
Image: trout lily
The moon (and traces of Northern Lights) over Bearskin (from Cabin 1)
Yesterday, as usual, we stopped at several sites along Highway 61. We had a late lunch at the “world famous” Betty’s Pie. I do not know if this pie is truly well-known throughout the world, but it was, as they say, damned good pie.
The three of us at Betty's Pies.
As has become typical of us, we stopped to do some agate hunting about a mile north of Two Harbors at Flood Bay. We had to backtrack from Betty’s, but we didn’t care. My family simply cannot be hurried once we’re in vacation mode. Once we’ve made it to Duluth (to-du-loot!) vacation mode has fully activated. “Oh? The thing we wanted to see was back there? Sure, let’s turn around!”
Me and Mason agate hunting at Floor Bay.
I’m not ever sure what an agate looks like when it’s not polished. Not that it matters to any of us. Shawn hands out plastic baggies and we find a nice spot and start hunting. On this trip, it was extra windy. It was already decently cold, maybe mid-50s F/ 10 C. We joked that the windchill made it below freezing! Shawn had to hike back to the car for extra layers.
But, we had a great time just relaxing and sifting through the rocks on the shores of the world’s largest freshwater lake. (And, as Mason loves to point out, a lake so cold that if you’re shipwrecked in it, you don’t rot!)
Mason beach combing
Next was a pitstop at Gooseberry Falls. Sometimes, like a lot of travelers this time of year, we only stop long enough to do our business and then push on. This time, however, Mason and I decided to make the short trek up to see both the high falls and the low falls. Shawn, meanwhile, saved her knee (which is mostly doing well, but technically still in recovery,) for the next beach and hung out in the gift shop looking for, among other things, sweatpants for Mason who—for reasons all his own—decided not to pack any pants for the trip. Only shorts!
Gooseberry Falls, in my opinion, is almost always worth the detour.
Image: Gooseberry Falls
I only remembered after we’d left that I forgot to get my State Park passport stamped! We decided, however, that we would stop in as many State Parks as we could on our route back. Mason and I are also planning a day trip out to Devil’s Kettle, so I have be sure to remember to bring it with me to that hike!
I had advocated for a stop at Iona’s Beach this year but changed my mind after experiencing the wind at Flood Bay. Maybe the weather will be more cooperative on the drive home. Instead, we decided to pull in at Silver Bay to get a gander at "Rocky Taconite."
Image: Rocky Taconite at Silver Bay.
Our last beach of the trip up to the cabin was Cutface Creek Pullout (14 miles north of Lutsen, mile marker 104.) This beach is famous for its thomsonite. Again, I have no idea what thomsonite looks like in the wild (although this might be the year I may have found a piece. I’m going to try polishing it up when we get back home), but this beach generally has cool rocks because it has a ton of mini geodes.
Again, we dawdled. I have no idea how long we spent combing the beaches and listening to the waves. This beach was less windy; it was much more of a natural windbreak/cove.
We managed to miss official check-in at Bearskin (6 pm), which we often do (even leaving the Twin Cities at 9 am), and so followed the instructions to get the cabin key for check-in the next morning. It was still light enough out that Mason and I made the walk up to the Lodge to pick up the aluminum canoe that they on the beach for us out for us. We paddled it to our dock, bungied it up to our private dock for the night, and then settled in for a dinner of brats on the grill.
I fully failed to make a decent fire our first night, but luckily both Shawn and Mason are better skilled at this than I am.
This morning (Sunday) we woke up to rain.
Shawn and I walked down to the Lodge to check in. Because of all of the forest fires that are active in Minnesota right now, the Forest Service has been doing a lot of clearing of what they call “ladder trees,” but also underbrush. The place looks… a little devestated. At least in comparison to what we’re used to. I have been excited to resume my hiking of the ski trails this year and so I wanted to be sure to ask the staff about good trails for less… husbandry, we’ll say. They nicely pointed out where on the map they thought the Forestry Service hadn’t gotten to yet. So, after a quick jog back to Cabin 1 to make sure I had my inhaler, I headed off. I’d intended to slowly get my “sea legs” back, but I missed a turn off and hiked all the way to Rudy Lake.
Image: a pristine lake (Rudy Lake) in the middle of nowhere.
Oops.
It is cool, however. Like, this is a lake you simply can not get to without walking to it. There are no roads to get you here.
However, I am a little sore and may have overdone it already on day one. Hopefully, with a bit of rest and Aleve, I’ll be back at it in no time.
Image: trout lily
Letter Writers!
Jun. 9th, 2025 08:52 amoracneLove for our Elders is a program to send handwritten letters to older adults. "Our mission is to alleviate social isolation among older adults through handwritten letters and intergenerational connections."
Hornet Flight - Ken Follett
Jun. 8th, 2025 08:07 pmsholioI like Ken Follett's books, and I like airplanes, and I like historical books, but this one was just kind of lackluster for me, unfortunately. It kept me reading, and parts of it were very engaging, but I ended up feeling kind of "That was it?" at the end. I mean, to be fair, this book is set early in WW2 and there's a lot of war still to go, but it feels like we didn't quite get the full plot or the amount of airplane that was promised by the title. The airplane-promising title manages to be a big spoiler while not actually delivering on its promise. (Although, to be fair, I guess it did get me to read the book.)
( Spoilers in general )
( Spoilers in general )
(no subject)
Jun. 8th, 2025 07:52 pmdustbunny105The Madleen has been hijacked and the activists aboard, including a member of EU Parliment, have been kidnapped by the Israeli military. Their communications were jammed, they were attacked with chemical weapons and they were ordered to throw their phones into the sea. I have no doubt in my mind that the aid they were carrying will be destroyed, if it hasn't been already. I'm unclear whether this assault took place in Egyptian, Palestinian or international waters but the fact either way is that Israel has no right to divert this mission. Not that it frikkin matters.
We all saw something like this coming but it's still so disheartening to see it happen. These activists come from France, Spain, Sweden, Germany, Brazil, Netherlands and Turkey. What we all can do now, what they've asked us to do, is to put pressure on their foreign ministries. The more eyes on them, the safer they'll be until their release.
French:
Email: [email protected] & [email protected]
FB: France Diplomatie & Jean-Noël Barot
IG:francediplo & jeannoelbarot
Twitter:francediplo_en & francediplo & jnbarot
Brazilian
Email: [email protected]
FB: Ministerio das relacoes exteriroes
IG:itamaratygovbr
Twitter: ItamaratyGovBr
Spanish
Bsky:jmalbares & .bsky.social ![[bsky.social profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user_other.png)
exterioresgob
Email: [email protected]
IG : [Bad username or site: exteriores @ maec]
Twitter:spainmfa & maecgob & jmalbares
Swedish
FB: SweMFA
IG:swedishmfa
Twitter:swemfa
Website: https://government.se/contacts/
Dutch
IG :minbz
FB : ministeriebz
Twitter:dutchmfa
Turkish
IG :tcdisisleri
FB : T.C. Dışişleri Bakanlığı
Twitter:mfaturkiye
German
IG:auswaertigesamt
FB: Auswärtiges Amt
Twitter:germanydiplo
We all saw something like this coming but it's still so disheartening to see it happen. These activists come from France, Spain, Sweden, Germany, Brazil, Netherlands and Turkey. What we all can do now, what they've asked us to do, is to put pressure on their foreign ministries. The more eyes on them, the safer they'll be until their release.
French:
Email: [email protected] & [email protected]
FB: France Diplomatie & Jean-Noël Barot
IG:
francediplo & jeannoelbarotTwitter:
francediplo_en & francediplo & jnbarotBrazilian
Email: [email protected]
FB: Ministerio das relacoes exteriroes
IG:
itamaratygovbrTwitter: ItamaratyGovBr
Spanish
Bsky:
jmalbares & .bsky.social exterioresgobEmail: [email protected]
IG : [Bad username or site: exteriores @ maec]
Twitter:
spainmfa & maecgob & jmalbaresSwedish
FB: SweMFA
IG:
swedishmfaTwitter:
swemfaWebsite: https://government.se/contacts/
Dutch
IG :
minbzFB : ministeriebz
Twitter:
dutchmfaTurkish
IG :
tcdisisleriFB : T.C. Dışişleri Bakanlığı
Twitter:
mfaturkiyeGerman
IG:
auswaertigesamtFB: Auswärtiges Amt
Twitter:
germanydiploRecent reading
Jun. 8th, 2025 08:17 pmtroisoiseauxRead Real Ones by Katherena Vermette, discovered via sabotabby: a novel about about two adult sisters, who are Michif/Métis on their dad's side (this is important), grappling with the public exposure of their estranged mother's false claims of Indigenous ancestry, which she's used to build a career as an artist. I feel like most of the novels I've read tackling race-faking for profit/clout/??? in academia/the arts are biting satires - R.F. Kuang's Yellowface, Elaine Hsieh Chou's Disorientation - and even Louise Erdrich's The Sentence uses supernatural elements to express the violence of white people appropriating Indigenous identity; this one feels... subtler, maybe? It's very much grounded in the family drama of two sisters being betrayed and disappointed yet again by a self-absorbed mother who's betrayed and disappointed them over and over for as long as they can remember, this time playing out with a Greek chorus of op-eds and Twitter takes on a scandal now so weirdly familiar that Vermette tends to reference them obliquely rather than in detail. Really good; I especially liked how distinct the two sisters' voices were, as alternating POV characters.
Read With a Bare Bodkin by Cyril Hare, which fell short of Hare's Tragedy at Law, imo, but honestly, what wouldn't? This one had some fun concepts— set against the backdrop of a minor government agency housed in some sprawling pile for the duration of WWII, the plot kicks off with a conversation about how one of the civil servants is a mystery novelist on the side and everyone going "oooh wouldn't this office be a great setting for a murder mystery?", so it's got quite a crossover of tropes— and also the distinction of being one of the few mysteries where the author pulls a "clearly signaling something as A Clue by having the main character realize that some detail is Significant" and I actually immediately twigged to the discrepancy being hinted at and remembered where to cross-reference the detail earlier in the book, although, to be fair, this was not exactly subtly dropped, either in context or by the author to the reader.
sabotabby: a novel about about two adult sisters, who are Michif/Métis on their dad's side (this is important), grappling with the public exposure of their estranged mother's false claims of Indigenous ancestry, which she's used to build a career as an artist. I feel like most of the novels I've read tackling race-faking for profit/clout/??? in academia/the arts are biting satires - R.F. Kuang's Yellowface, Elaine Hsieh Chou's Disorientation - and even Louise Erdrich's The Sentence uses supernatural elements to express the violence of white people appropriating Indigenous identity; this one feels... subtler, maybe? It's very much grounded in the family drama of two sisters being betrayed and disappointed yet again by a self-absorbed mother who's betrayed and disappointed them over and over for as long as they can remember, this time playing out with a Greek chorus of op-eds and Twitter takes on a scandal now so weirdly familiar that Vermette tends to reference them obliquely rather than in detail. Really good; I especially liked how distinct the two sisters' voices were, as alternating POV characters. Read With a Bare Bodkin by Cyril Hare, which fell short of Hare's Tragedy at Law, imo, but honestly, what wouldn't? This one had some fun concepts— set against the backdrop of a minor government agency housed in some sprawling pile for the duration of WWII, the plot kicks off with a conversation about how one of the civil servants is a mystery novelist on the side and everyone going "oooh wouldn't this office be a great setting for a murder mystery?", so it's got quite a crossover of tropes— and also the distinction of being one of the few mysteries where the author pulls a "clearly signaling something as A Clue by having the main character realize that some detail is Significant" and I actually immediately twigged to the discrepancy being hinted at and remembered where to cross-reference the detail earlier in the book, although, to be fair, this was not exactly subtly dropped, either in context or by the author to the reader.
Book Review: Midwinter Nightingale
Jun. 8th, 2025 03:43 pmosprey_archerJoan Aiken finished the last two books in the Wolves of Willoughby Chase sequence just before her death in 2004. The penultimate book, Midwinter Nightingale, has certain flaws that indicate a rushed or weary author, but before I discuss these flaws I do want to state that I’m very glad Aiken did write these books, as it seems right and proper that the series should come full circle with Dido and Simon at the end.
The main flaw in Midwinter Nightingale was the pacing, which is usually Aiken’s strong suit: in most of her book she packs so many happenings into a chapter thatlittlerhymes and I struggled to discuss all the developments. But here, the characters spend the first half of the book wandering more or less aimlessly before the plot really kicks off.
Also, this is petty but I just have to complain, Aiken offers three separate and incompatible lengths for the time that has elapsed since King Dick’s coronation. It happened 15 years ago, as it coincided with his marriage to his (second) wife Princess Adelaide. (As it turns out, Prince Davie who died in the mines was the son of King Dick’s hitherto unmentioned first wife, which means Davie was a teenager when he went to investigate the mines, which is better than going off to investigate at the age of about five as I first thought.)
But it also happened six years ago, because that’s when Dido said she first got back to England, and as we know Dido saved the ceremony which otherwise would have been interrupted by St. Paul’s Cathedral rolling into the Thames. But then Dido mentions her adventures on the island of Aratu, which happened before her return to England, as occurring “two or three years ago.” WHICH IS IT, AIKEN? Please just stop giving us numbers.
However, it is lovely to be back with Dido again. Is is fine but she’s just not the same. I enjoyed the reappearance of Aiken’s trademark ferocious creatures in the form of a moat filled with man-eating fish and crocodiles (although I’m still so sad they killed spoiler redacted and spoiler redacted!), and also the unexpected plot point of two completely non-ferocious bears. They just want Simon to give them head massages to help them cope with the wet cold of England! Who among us has not dreamed of a bear friend?
The next (and last) book is very short, and was in fact published posthumously. I envision Aiken writing it on a legal pad in her hospital bed, and will not hold it against her if it occasionally devolves from prose into a list of bullet points.
The main flaw in Midwinter Nightingale was the pacing, which is usually Aiken’s strong suit: in most of her book she packs so many happenings into a chapter that
littlerhymes and I struggled to discuss all the developments. But here, the characters spend the first half of the book wandering more or less aimlessly before the plot really kicks off. Also, this is petty but I just have to complain, Aiken offers three separate and incompatible lengths for the time that has elapsed since King Dick’s coronation. It happened 15 years ago, as it coincided with his marriage to his (second) wife Princess Adelaide. (As it turns out, Prince Davie who died in the mines was the son of King Dick’s hitherto unmentioned first wife, which means Davie was a teenager when he went to investigate the mines, which is better than going off to investigate at the age of about five as I first thought.)
But it also happened six years ago, because that’s when Dido said she first got back to England, and as we know Dido saved the ceremony which otherwise would have been interrupted by St. Paul’s Cathedral rolling into the Thames. But then Dido mentions her adventures on the island of Aratu, which happened before her return to England, as occurring “two or three years ago.” WHICH IS IT, AIKEN? Please just stop giving us numbers.
However, it is lovely to be back with Dido again. Is is fine but she’s just not the same. I enjoyed the reappearance of Aiken’s trademark ferocious creatures in the form of a moat filled with man-eating fish and crocodiles (although I’m still so sad they killed spoiler redacted and spoiler redacted!), and also the unexpected plot point of two completely non-ferocious bears. They just want Simon to give them head massages to help them cope with the wet cold of England! Who among us has not dreamed of a bear friend?
The next (and last) book is very short, and was in fact published posthumously. I envision Aiken writing it on a legal pad in her hospital bed, and will not hold it against her if it occasionally devolves from prose into a list of bullet points.
"We don't trade lives" sure, man
Jun. 8th, 2025 09:24 pmdhampyresaI was rewatching Avengers: Infinity War and it, again, struck me how bloody hypocritical Steve's "we don't trade lives" line(s) is. Friend. Pal. Bro. My man. Do you really think no Wakandan is gonna die fighting Thanos' armies. Like. Get a fucking grip, omg.
(no subject)
Jun. 7th, 2025 11:54 pmdustbunny105Okay, now that the lighthearted post is out of the way. I am legitimately a nervous wreck about the Freedom Flotilla and about the protests in LA. I had more to say about this but nothing seems like it's enough. My thoughts are with all those fighting for life and justice right now. Please keep your eyes on them if you can, if you can't do anything else.
(no subject)
Jun. 7th, 2025 08:53 pmdustbunny105Farmers market trip was an overall success. It did rain and I did forget to bring an umbrella but it was never worse than a drizzle. I was more worried about the niblings than myself but no issues to speak of. My sister's littlest refused to keep the canopy of his stroller up and his siblings didn't seem to care at all.
Still no peppers but we got there early enough that we had a good pick of the other produce I was looking for. Got peaches, plums, tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, lettuce, green onion and a handful of basil. I wanted cucumbers, too, but it was like they disappeared once I went back looking for them. Pretty sure what actually happened was that the couple of booths offering them were among the more popular and I overlooked them past the crowds that had gathered by then. I also saw two or three people with these big buckets of strawberries that I could not find anywhere and Idk what was up with that, lol. Ah, well, I can try again another week.
We had lunch and then I got dropped off at home. I was inexplicably exhausted-- granted, I got up earlier than usual-- and took what I wanted to be a short nap and ended up being a long nap. Go figure. After that, I got on to my reorganizing and... the results are mixed.
My focus today was my closet, since I'm eyeing some stuff on the shelves to be moved in there, and it took less time than I'd have expected, granted I hit a roadblock before I could be what I considered finished. It doesn't really look at a glance like I did as much as it feels like I did but the difference in how things are situated now feels significant. I put aside a lot of stuff for Goodwill, a few items for the local little free library and got some forgotten recycling out of my way. That'll be dealt with this coming week. I have more "to-sell" stuff taking up space than I remembered and I'm gonna sleep on what to do about that. Most of that is Transformers-related and I was planning to try to unload it at TFcon in October but, well, that's October. It's in my way now. I think I'll go ahead and list the bigger ticket items on eBay, take whatever doesn't sell there to TFcon, then just donate whatever doesn't sell there.
So! Tomorrow's goals are cleaning up my shelves and listing a few things on eBay. Not too many to start with. I tend to get it into my head that I have to list everything or nothing and, uh. As you may have guessed, I tend to pick nothing. I'd rather have something listed than nothing. I'll do some routine tidying up and dusting as I go. I should also fix up my yarn chest, tbh; I've barely crocheted at all this year and it's still gotten so chaotic that it makes me never want to crochet again, lol.
Still no peppers but we got there early enough that we had a good pick of the other produce I was looking for. Got peaches, plums, tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, lettuce, green onion and a handful of basil. I wanted cucumbers, too, but it was like they disappeared once I went back looking for them. Pretty sure what actually happened was that the couple of booths offering them were among the more popular and I overlooked them past the crowds that had gathered by then. I also saw two or three people with these big buckets of strawberries that I could not find anywhere and Idk what was up with that, lol. Ah, well, I can try again another week.
We had lunch and then I got dropped off at home. I was inexplicably exhausted-- granted, I got up earlier than usual-- and took what I wanted to be a short nap and ended up being a long nap. Go figure. After that, I got on to my reorganizing and... the results are mixed.
My focus today was my closet, since I'm eyeing some stuff on the shelves to be moved in there, and it took less time than I'd have expected, granted I hit a roadblock before I could be what I considered finished. It doesn't really look at a glance like I did as much as it feels like I did but the difference in how things are situated now feels significant. I put aside a lot of stuff for Goodwill, a few items for the local little free library and got some forgotten recycling out of my way. That'll be dealt with this coming week. I have more "to-sell" stuff taking up space than I remembered and I'm gonna sleep on what to do about that. Most of that is Transformers-related and I was planning to try to unload it at TFcon in October but, well, that's October. It's in my way now. I think I'll go ahead and list the bigger ticket items on eBay, take whatever doesn't sell there to TFcon, then just donate whatever doesn't sell there.
So! Tomorrow's goals are cleaning up my shelves and listing a few things on eBay. Not too many to start with. I tend to get it into my head that I have to list everything or nothing and, uh. As you may have guessed, I tend to pick nothing. I'd rather have something listed than nothing. I'll do some routine tidying up and dusting as I go. I should also fix up my yarn chest, tbh; I've barely crocheted at all this year and it's still gotten so chaotic that it makes me never want to crochet again, lol.