So the other night there was occasion to be looking up runes, and one of them was recommended for making sure that others didn't stomp all over one.
I gave someone in particular the hairy eyeball, and we marched over to the calendar with the silver sharpie, and we drew that rune on each holiday.
Hopefully, someone's mother will not be succeeding at the stomping this year.
Tonight it's nice and cool and rainy.
And there's also a guy out there on the phone with a chick friend of his, lecturing her on dating, and what God wants.
He sounds pretty solid, actually, on the good advice.
It has, however, been more than an hour.
Not that I have a problem with people needing advice.
It's just amusing, at 1 in the morning, almost 2.
I'm not very good at this whole icon business. I think it's because I don't have the tools to do it correctly. I'll have to ask Marx for a bit of help...
Currently, I'm working on a pretty, shiny, nifty one featuring both of my hometowns, and a bonus image of the aurora borealis as seen from space, complete with covert Stella Soleil reference.
My problem? The smallest I've been able to get it to so far is 45k.
We had a pair of geese: the gander was a gray Toulouse, imaginatively named Toulouse; the goose was an African named Friendly, because she was (and he, of course, wasn't). The geese developed an attachment to Mama, and would follow her up to the garden when she went up there to work, and would follow her down to the pottery shop when she went there to work.
Eventually, they'd get bored, or thirsty, and wander back to the house to do something else or get a drink, but they would often spend a considerable length of time parked on the porch of Mama's pottery shop.
Now, parked geese have two major characteristics. They gozzle things -- anything that there is in nibbling range, they will nibble on, to see if it's edible, or just because they're interested. When Friendly was a gosling, she would nibble FatherSir's eyelashes lovingly. They also emit exhaust periodically, and when they're parked, there gets to be quite a pile of goose exhaust behind the parking spot.
And these geese would park on the porch of Mama's shop.
Mama has two kilns, both of which live on the porch of her pottery shop. One of them is venerable indeed, and likely predates my birth. It has about as much interior space as our chest freezer (also on the porch of the pottery shop) and fits an astonishing number of pots. Firing that kiln is a major production, involving sleeplessness, checking cones frequently, and meticulous entries in Mama's log book. The other kiln is small, and I actually remember a time before it was there. It fits perhaps six to nine cereal bowls at one time, and has a number of handy settings for time and hotness on a dial or two, and even a "kiln-sitter" feature, where the power will automatically shut off after a horizontally held cone droops to a certain floppiness.
Mama went to load the little kiln one day, and found, much to her surprise, that a kiln dial was out of order -- the little metal plate that indicated the time and/or temperature was completely worn off or missing! She searched all around for it, peering into the dark corners with FatherSir's bonky flashlight, but found nothing. She wondered what could have happened to it.
Then she thought of the geese. The geese, sitting on the porch, gozzling things. And you can't really call a goose in on the carpet for gozzling your kiln's dial's indicators off the kiln, much less a gander.
So she called up the kiln manufacturers to inquire if she could get a replacement part. They, of course, inquired as to what had happened to the old one -- had the paint worn off? No, actually, it had been gozzled off by geese. After they stopped laughing, they sent her the replacement part. She encouraged the geese to park places other than the porch, after that.
New icon. Not quite what I wanted to do with it, but small enough to upload.
View of the Aurora Borealis from the Space Shuttle. (My father studied the Aurora Borealis until his retirement.)
Fairbanks trees and hills in the early fall.
Phoenix at sunset.
You put them together: I am twilight.
I engineer the keywords on my posts carefully. I sometimes put more keywords on one userpic than strictly necessary, because I have a number of multi-function pics. Someday I will have a proper photo of Naomi (probably wearing the White Hat), and if I get another photo of Eris Raven for an icon, or a different Marah photo, those can split off.
I do it backwards-compatible. I leave old keywords on, so my Little Fayoumis icon still has the keyword Nephew, even though I don't call him that anymore, so the previous posts while I still called him that are displaying the right icon.
I wish LJ had a feature that could search for any post made with a certain picture keyword, even if the keyword isn't corresponding to a current photo. Then I could go edit them all.
I think there's time for me to hop a bus to the store that's got the sale on the chocolate. 326g bags of Guittard milk chocolate chips, two for a dollar? Given that they usually run four times the price, this is a sweet, sweet deal.
I'll be back soon. Promise.
The Little Fayoumis has an interesting thing, something that many kids and some adults have going on: an imaginary retreat that has all the cool things in the world, where everything is possible. Little Fayoumis calls it his lab. (The name comes from Dexter's Laboratory, and some of the imagery comes from the Spyhunter game, one of the enemy bases.)
He's got everything in his lab. He's got a million bucks, he's got all sorts of toys, he's got a car... if he's seen it, or can imagine it, he's got it.
To further the delights of his imagination, I requested that Edmund's Scientific send their catalog. He gets to look at that and see the things he wants for his lab. He's very clear on the idea that he gets everything he wants in his lab, and that's not the case in the outside world. So, when I tell him that he can look at that for stuff he wants for his lab, he knows that it may or may not happen in the real world, but we still want him to be having fun with the stuff.
They were sold out of the nice milk chocolate chips on sale when I got there, but they did have some semi-sweet at the same price. I'd been going to stock up on the milk chocolate, but semi-sweet is not the same, so I only got two.
Little Fayoumis has been working on his super-l33t jumprope skills. He's gotten forward jumping down pretty well, but has been disappointed with the backwards jumping for a few days, getting frustrated by his seeming inability to master it.
Today, he got in nine or ten jumps backwards in a row. He's stoked. Then, of course, he began getting tired, and started getting only eight, or seve, and of course he was disappointed.
Have been trying to teach him that when his body gets tired, he goes off the top of his performance, and when he gets too tired, he gets grouchy and disappointed and stands a better chance of hurting himself. So I made him put the jumprope down and do something else for ten minutes.
This, hopefully, should work.