We're so fucking gorgeous while we're building our shacks
I have a pounding headache, but I think it is the same pounding headache I had the day before and the day before that. Today has otherwise been marked by conversations about collaboration—the artistic kind—a glimpse of a secret project that brings me much joy, and an instance of conspicuous cuteness on Autolycus's part.
I know the folktale of how the original Siamese cats gained their kinked tails through curling them so protectively around the treasures they guarded, but this is ridiculous.
There had been water in the mug when the little cat arrived. I was afraid to check if the level had gone down.
He is growing up to look curiously like Mishka, the longest-lived of the three cats who were in the house when I was born, the others being his sister Tzythy and their mother Djavvy, who was what is now called an old-style Siamese. Their father was Burmese and a grand champion according to the story, which made them secret royalty, both-ways children like my brother and me. Have some links.
1. Courtesy of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
handful_ofdust: "A voice from the sea." I really don't know what else that sailor was expecting.
2. Courtesy ofselkie: from Cambridge University, a student-updated COVID-19 outbreak response plan. I especially like "Extra Spicy," "Bad," and "Waitrose Parma Ham."
3. I too have been blown away by Xenia Hausner's Nacht der Skorpione (1995) and incidentally I agree with the rest of this post. The one with the paintbrush is a self-portrait. I love it so much.
It is almost impossible to think about anything but the election, but we voted almost a month ago and I have to live through what happens tomorrow no matter what: I am going to attempt to think about movies instead.
I know the folktale of how the original Siamese cats gained their kinked tails through curling them so protectively around the treasures they guarded, but this is ridiculous.
There had been water in the mug when the little cat arrived. I was afraid to check if the level had gone down.
He is growing up to look curiously like Mishka, the longest-lived of the three cats who were in the house when I was born, the others being his sister Tzythy and their mother Djavvy, who was what is now called an old-style Siamese. Their father was Burmese and a grand champion according to the story, which made them secret royalty, both-ways children like my brother and me. Have some links.
1. Courtesy of
handful_ofdust: "A voice from the sea." I really don't know what else that sailor was expecting.2. Courtesy of
selkie: from Cambridge University, a student-updated COVID-19 outbreak response plan. I especially like "Extra Spicy," "Bad," and "Waitrose Parma Ham."3. I too have been blown away by Xenia Hausner's Nacht der Skorpione (1995) and incidentally I agree with the rest of this post. The one with the paintbrush is a self-portrait. I love it so much.
It is almost impossible to think about anything but the election, but we voted almost a month ago and I have to live through what happens tomorrow no matter what: I am going to attempt to think about movies instead.
no subject
. . . you are the secret project, you very dear pecan.
Dude, your house panther is super Burmese looking. Can he do the doorknobs?
He can do the doorknobs and the bottlecaps. In different voices.
no subject
I’m incredibly intelligent, I’ll have you know. Probably not as smart as your cats, but what can one do?
no subject
The cats don't have to contend with pandemic brain. It's an unfair advantage.
*hugs*
no subject
I don’t get drunk well, and I’m not supposed to get drunk, but I am endeavoring to engineer a state of drunk.
My other pandemic-brain choices are maudlin or enraged or cold-sweat worry.
Did you know, did you know I last saw you AND the ocean at the same time and we didn’t take a single picture of all three together? That sucks.
no subject
You could write one of the really angry bits of the Regency?
*hugs*
Did you know, did you know I last saw you AND the ocean at the same time and we didn’t take a single picture of all three together? That sucks.
At least we took pictures of each other and the ocean! I'm not sure either of us is selfie-oriented, which may have been the failure point.
no subject
Yeah, I think you’re right: we just don’t operate in that mode. But you wore an ascot! And shoulder-elbow-hip-fenced my mother away with heroic frequency! I am thankful the ascot at least was photographed.