I know she was probably a birch, but in my own heart, Fimbrethil will always be a rowan. Poor Treebeard, holding out hope for so many thousands of years. In other news, here’s how fireworks get their pretty colours! Stay safe out there, my dears.
Today the bipedal residents of Chez Saintcrow go forth to slay dragons, pillage villages, and– *is handed slip of paper* –oh. Um. Okay. I mean, today is the day we go in search of supplies for the Glorious Fourth, including some gunpowder-related packets. There will be no huge booming issuing forth from our cannons this […]
This is the Blue Man. My friend Kev painted him a while back; I’ve always loved this piece. He sent it to me a little while ago, and I found the perfect place to hang it. Kev and I met over a decade ago, I think. (Time blurs.) We were both in difficult situations. For […]
My piano teacher is moving, so I’ll be falling back upon my own stubbornness and a few exercise books to continue. I signed up for a music theory course, too–I want to know why. My perennial plaint, I suppose. I feel fortunate to be Living In The Future, where I can Google up answers to […]
He really is a very loving dog. “THIS LOOKS LIKE FINE LITERATURE. I SHALL SNORE UPON IT.” “IT IS TIME FOR SNUGGLES.”