A Sunday, Post #8
Feb. 16th, 2020 07:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
usedtobeljsSmall crises at work have now swarmed into an Attack of Things That Suck, and I wake up every day longing for retirement. (It's several years away, la la la.) But let's think of better things.
Still thinking....
Okay, here we go, with a list of 10 good things:
1) Azaleas are in bloom here in the subtropics.
2) I finished the first draft of a major writing project that has been dragging on for years.
3) I immediately started its sequel and am 1500 words in, whilst planning revisions for the first.
4) Have conferred with Traveling-Best-Bud and we've agreed on Santa Fe, New Mexico, for May 2021.
5) (We're going to Scotland this May.)
6) Since I'll be in Santa Fe, why NOT drive the mere 400 miles to my beloved Marfa as well? So I will. :)
7) Also, I'm going to London this December by myself. Already have my ticket to see David Tennant on stage, too.
8) Chicken with Hatch green chiles is cooking in the slow-cooker right now.
9) Pilates this evening, which is the best way to end the weekend and start another hell-week.
10) I have already done my vote in my presidential primary election (it's vote-by-mail) and have dropped off my ballot at the courthouse. I decided to stop listening to all the strategic-voter babble, and just voted my heart. (Elizabeth Warren.) And once the primary season is over, I'll go volunteer to get out the November vote.
And here's two three-sentence fics on the subject of flowers, with two very different couples with the same theme:
Fred wouldn't have thought Lindsey would tend flowers like he does, wouldn't have thought her bad boy with the evil hand would like sending his guitar-roughened fingers into good earth, would like Saturday mornings at the local nursery with Giles as they muse over purchases (apocalypses allowing for the time), would water and feed and take good care.
But it gives her such joy to see his heart bloom as he does.
When he brings her the first blossoms of the spring in his grandmother's vase, she kisses him rather than cries, but she reckons he knows how sweet she finds him in all ways.
........
The Doctor teaches himself the language of flowers on Darillium.
The blooms themselves on this planet are night-flowers, highly scented, drinking in pale light from the moon; he makes a bed of them outside his and River's home for her to walk in.
"Sweetie, sweetie," she says when she sees the first blooms, and he smiles because he's bloody well earned the name for once, Scottish eyebrows be damned.
Happy week ahead to all!
Still thinking....
Okay, here we go, with a list of 10 good things:
1) Azaleas are in bloom here in the subtropics.
2) I finished the first draft of a major writing project that has been dragging on for years.
3) I immediately started its sequel and am 1500 words in, whilst planning revisions for the first.
4) Have conferred with Traveling-Best-Bud and we've agreed on Santa Fe, New Mexico, for May 2021.
5) (We're going to Scotland this May.)
6) Since I'll be in Santa Fe, why NOT drive the mere 400 miles to my beloved Marfa as well? So I will. :)
7) Also, I'm going to London this December by myself. Already have my ticket to see David Tennant on stage, too.
8) Chicken with Hatch green chiles is cooking in the slow-cooker right now.
9) Pilates this evening, which is the best way to end the weekend and start another hell-week.
10) I have already done my vote in my presidential primary election (it's vote-by-mail) and have dropped off my ballot at the courthouse. I decided to stop listening to all the strategic-voter babble, and just voted my heart. (Elizabeth Warren.) And once the primary season is over, I'll go volunteer to get out the November vote.
And here's two three-sentence fics on the subject of flowers, with two very different couples with the same theme:
Fred wouldn't have thought Lindsey would tend flowers like he does, wouldn't have thought her bad boy with the evil hand would like sending his guitar-roughened fingers into good earth, would like Saturday mornings at the local nursery with Giles as they muse over purchases (apocalypses allowing for the time), would water and feed and take good care.
But it gives her such joy to see his heart bloom as he does.
When he brings her the first blossoms of the spring in his grandmother's vase, she kisses him rather than cries, but she reckons he knows how sweet she finds him in all ways.
........
The Doctor teaches himself the language of flowers on Darillium.
The blooms themselves on this planet are night-flowers, highly scented, drinking in pale light from the moon; he makes a bed of them outside his and River's home for her to walk in.
"Sweetie, sweetie," she says when she sees the first blooms, and he smiles because he's bloody well earned the name for once, Scottish eyebrows be damned.
Happy week ahead to all!
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Date: 2020-02-16 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-16 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-16 06:29 pm (UTC)I love your short stories, they're little jewels of joy.
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Date: 2020-02-16 08:32 pm (UTC)And thank you. [second hugs]
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Date: 2020-02-16 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-17 12:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-16 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-17 12:36 am (UTC)Anyway, hugs! I hope beach time was awesome!
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Date: 2020-02-16 10:43 pm (UTC)Happy week to you too :)
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Date: 2020-02-17 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-18 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-02-18 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-03-07 03:30 am (UTC)Oh, England in December sounds lovely. I am envious.
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Date: 2020-03-07 01:22 pm (UTC)Happy Saturday to you!
no subject
Date: 2020-03-07 02:55 pm (UTC)