It never hurts to give thanks to the local gods
Today was mostly not enjoyable because my brain imploded on me, figuratively but painfully, but it ended with ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch buying me a flower of pistachio-hazelnut-vanilla gelato in Harvard Square, so that was nice. I spent some time in the evening in a branch of the BPL and left with Benny Lindelauf and Ludwig Volbeda's Tortot, The Cold Fish Who Lost His World and Found His Heart (2017), an illustrated semi-fable about a cynical cook and a youthful half-soldier; it's funny, bittersweet—which is not YA code for crushingly depressing, although any story about the absurdity and horror of war is going to have some non-cheerful aspects even when the warring emperors are obsessed with gherkins and the climax in a besieged city literally takes the cake—and reminded me of Lloyd Alexander and Peter S. Beagle. Some important things happen in the pictures. I did not leave with Ruth Langland Holberg's Tomboy Row (1952), but I was interested that the protagonist's parents spend half the book trying to slim down and feminize their fat, baseball-loving, boy-punching daughter before realizing that they are doing nothing but making her miserable and spend the rest of the book letting her run around and eat whatever she likes and get into trouble all over mid-century Rockport, which she does happily. I loved the cover embossing. If Rowena Carey was a series character, I hope she made it through adolescence without ever having to take ballet lessons or Toni wave her thick dark hair.
spatch buying me a flower of pistachio-hazelnut-vanilla gelato in Harvard Square, so that was nice. I spent some time in the evening in a branch of the BPL and left with Benny Lindelauf and Ludwig Volbeda's Tortot, The Cold Fish Who Lost His World and Found His Heart (2017), an illustrated semi-fable about a cynical cook and a youthful half-soldier; it's funny, bittersweet—which is not YA code for crushingly depressing, although any story about the absurdity and horror of war is going to have some non-cheerful aspects even when the warring emperors are obsessed with gherkins and the climax in a besieged city literally takes the cake—and reminded me of Lloyd Alexander and Peter S. Beagle. Some important things happen in the pictures. I did not leave with Ruth Langland Holberg's Tomboy Row (1952), but I was interested that the protagonist's parents spend half the book trying to slim down and feminize their fat, baseball-loving, boy-punching daughter before realizing that they are doing nothing but making her miserable and spend the rest of the book letting her run around and eat whatever she likes and get into trouble all over mid-century Rockport, which she does happily. I loved the cover embossing. If Rowena Carey was a series character, I hope she made it through adolescence without ever having to take ballet lessons or Toni wave her thick dark hair.
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I don't know whether that means headache, Migraine, Anxiety, or Depression, but either way, much empathy and solidarity.
May tomorrow be better.
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Emotional—combination of present frustration and PTSD—but thank you for checking in.
May tomorrow be better.
Thank you.
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Yay for interesting books, however.
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Thank you!
*hugs*
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Sometimes the 1950s were not what conservatives would like them to have been.
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Ayup. And amen.
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*hugs* I was eaten, too, but it involved louses. 'Lice' begins to lose something in translation at this point in my parenting career.
May no louse come near you. (If only for logistics, Jesus Christ. )
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Best of luck in Eradication.
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My current below the butt the hair is sympathetic itching in sympathy.
Fingers utterly crossed. (Here's to all the stuff still working.)
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Like, I'm not sure I would want to own the book for more than the historical value, but if the embossing were a poster I would put it on my wall, because, yeah.
I was eaten, too, but it involved louses. 'Lice' begins to lose something in translation at this point in my parenting career.
Augh. Didn't you hear that the no-typhus rule goes both ways?
May no louse come near you. (If only for logistics, Jesus Christ.)
Thank you. (Oh, God, with the cats, no.) And you, too, ever again.
*hugs*
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PLEASE TELL ME YOU STILL HAVE ALL OF IT.
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*psychosomatic scritches*
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The change of heart was really unexpected and made me glad of Tomboy Row even when it's otherwise a sort of standard daily-life-with-scrapes-and-adventures mid-century children's book. I think you might really like Tortot.