aalauber

An interesting-to-me bit of datum, is that almost all the folks posting regularly to my regularly-read filters these days, are professional authors. There are a lot more folks on those filters than professional authors.

This doesn't indicate anything to me about the quality or types of my friends (though, at least two of those authors are acquaintances or better, so I guess it indicates that "some of my friends are authors", which is like saying "some of my friends are sysadmins"; they have jobs they like that they work hard at), or myself, but it's interesting in that it looks like for the most part the folks that don't have some professional interest in posting, mostly aren't.

You know, like me.

Rejoice, that I haven't subjected you to this in a while. But I know you missed it so here are some fresh, glistening, open blisters.

You can tell I don't do sticks enough, when I get cool blisters like this from an afternoon of class. Also, "New Skin" stings like CRAZY on an open wound. FYI.

Sometimes strange things happen. Like, just now, I sneezed about twenty times in a row followed by there suddenly being a lot of snot in my previously free-breathing schnoz. This happens sometimes. I'm used to it.

I'm not used to my diabetic cat suddenly not being diabetic anymore. I didn't know this could happen. Apparently they see this sometimes with cats, but not dogs. The pancreas just starts doin' its thing again. Which is a relief, since I thought we were seeing another diabetic slow-motion crash, or that maybe he had an infected lump in his tail (he does have a sebaceous cyst, that's going to be dealt with in a couple weeks, it's not a big deal). But, no. Just that he was making his own insulin now so our dosing him with insulin wasn't doing him any good. No more insulin shots for our boy.

Jamie (who was totally great helping with vet appointments and remembering things and asking everyone really smart questions and dealing with me when I was fretting about my baby), opined that in this economy, everyone was cutting back on something - Xeurnix was cutting back on insulin costs ;). Thanks, love. For your humor and your help.

X is sleeping next to me as I write this. *pets cat* Well done, babycat. Well done.

An entry for the Amailah Appreciation League. Enjoy!

I've been remiss in my Religion and prolific with Sin of a chocolaty, malty flavor. So this morning, I actually did what I try to do about once a week, observed Saturday devotions at the Altar of the Rope.

During the week of course, I'm jumping rope with Jamie and we have a mostly regular routine. During my private worship, I hit the patio, or the gym, tell my iPhone to Genius me up some hymns, and away I go. This morning's list, 20m28s long, follows.

3:35 Epsilon Minus - Antigravity (sunsucker mix)
5:39 Grendel - Void Malign (amduscia mix)
4:59 The Azoic - Conflict (album version)
6:15 VNV Nation - Testament

Next year, all the goth kids will be taking their jump ropes to the clubs. You just wait.

It is with delighted maw that she greets all her most beloved toys. They are all her most beloved toys.

It is unfair that some things are entirely too delicious.

In the North, the snowy cold regularly falls preceding a visit from Southern climes. Some blame is jovially assigned. The conclusion is erroneous, the everyday stretched to cover the irregular. Nonetheless, to the question it is put. The hot iron is provided, gratis.

Puzzling marks, rosy, irregular on the flesh. Prodding them provokes memory but not pain. Peculiar and unexpected, respectively. A man made into a bellows, grunts and hisses accompanying. Stoking the fire within.

The realm visible contains all that can be seen, and all that is overlooked. Sophomoric, irritating, fact.

If we've left them behind, it's unkind of them to follow us, chewing their way from blistered memories to hallowed moments turned sour.

Leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember! Don't send a message, leave a comment on here. Next, re-post this in your notes and see how many people leave a memory about you.

Thank you for Year Three, my love. Here's to Year Four. I love you, every
day, all day.

This morning, with my bare hands, I dressed my daughter in ... velvet pants.

I swear, really, I do more with my life than take pictures of my kid and the kids in her company. However, I do take a few pictures of her and a steady stream of them is what keeps the ravening family and other adoring fans sated. It's a matter of self preservation, you realize.

Here's nhanie's son, Ethan, and Amailah napping together after a grueling evening of napping around on a group of knitters.

Someday, I should update this space with what I'm up to, myself.