And the blessings are like poets that we never find time to know
Friday we went to the zoo, and saw all manner of beasties both hyperactive and somnolent. No signof the mythical "sloth-bear," though. (Sign 1: "The sloth-bear has had a baby!" Sign 2: "Sloth-bears used to be here. Now they're down by the seals." Sign 3: "Sloth-bears have been moved, and will someday be on the not-yet-open Asia Trail.") The non-bear sloth was surprisingly active, climbing across the top of the cage and halfway down the back before stopping for a nap. Baby meerkats are spiky in the same way as Kai Wren, Godslayer and Lord Demon when she was a kitten. Seals will occasionally /not/ sprawl all over the place but can turn into seal-loaves. And zeeba and graff (gorgeous; I don't think I'd ever seen one so close before) and hippos and crocs and capybara, all god's critters got a place in the choir.
Satyrday the Arlington board gamers, with St. Pete (on which I'm less burnt out now) and Britannia and Traumfabrik. A lot of the joy of Britannia came from gaming with three other people with a vague grasp of the history, so that when we joked about Cnut sitting on the waves, or the Norse Irish Dubliners, or whatever, no one was left out. (Although I don't think any of them had read _1066 And All That_. Not one person landed correctly at Thanet.) Traumfabrik is a nifty auction game; I'd like to play it another time or two before passing judgement.
Sunday I unpacked stuffed animals onto my bookshelves as bookends, my parents came and took my extra table away, I got printer paper and determined that my ten-dollar laser printer works alright, and
uilos and I created Changeling characters for an impending game. Also my sinuses started acting up.
And then Monday morning I load up LJ and the first thing I see is
papersky's "John M. Ford, 1957-2006." But I've still got many of his books to meet for the first time, and lots of time to read through his Making Light comments once the "View all by" functionality gets fixed. And perhaps in November I'll try to host another reading, and read bits from _Heat of Fusion_ if I can do so without laughing madly. ("He distilled the products of his experience, particularly his experience with the products of distilleries, into a number of stories which will live forever, not least because they are short, use few large words, and are concerned primarily with sex and shooting things." --JMF, "The Hemstitch Notebooks")
We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it. The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. --Tom Stoppard, Arcadia
Friday we went to the zoo, and saw all manner of beasties both hyperactive and somnolent. No signof the mythical "sloth-bear," though. (Sign 1: "The sloth-bear has had a baby!" Sign 2: "Sloth-bears used to be here. Now they're down by the seals." Sign 3: "Sloth-bears have been moved, and will someday be on the not-yet-open Asia Trail.") The non-bear sloth was surprisingly active, climbing across the top of the cage and halfway down the back before stopping for a nap. Baby meerkats are spiky in the same way as Kai Wren, Godslayer and Lord Demon when she was a kitten. Seals will occasionally /not/ sprawl all over the place but can turn into seal-loaves. And zeeba and graff (gorgeous; I don't think I'd ever seen one so close before) and hippos and crocs and capybara, all god's critters got a place in the choir.
Satyrday the Arlington board gamers, with St. Pete (on which I'm less burnt out now) and Britannia and Traumfabrik. A lot of the joy of Britannia came from gaming with three other people with a vague grasp of the history, so that when we joked about Cnut sitting on the waves, or the Norse Irish Dubliners, or whatever, no one was left out. (Although I don't think any of them had read _1066 And All That_. Not one person landed correctly at Thanet.) Traumfabrik is a nifty auction game; I'd like to play it another time or two before passing judgement.
Sunday I unpacked stuffed animals onto my bookshelves as bookends, my parents came and took my extra table away, I got printer paper and determined that my ten-dollar laser printer works alright, and
And then Monday morning I load up LJ and the first thing I see is
We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it. The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. --Tom Stoppard, Arcadia
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Date: 2006-09-25 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-28 03:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-26 12:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-28 03:18 pm (UTC)