When I jump off the edge, I float right back up again
Whatever else I may have wanted to do with it, today went almost entirely toward recovering from our marathon. I did some capitalism before dinner and lay on the couch afterward.
spatch took a picture.

I have a zillion problems with my body and all its works, but I like my asymmetrical face. Don't jinx it, face.
I have been re-reading Lloyd Alexander's The Foundling and Other Tales of Prydain (1973) in the later edition that includes the texts of Coll and His White Pig (1965) and The Truthful Harp (1967). I read the latter for the first time as the original picture book illustrated by Evaline Ness; a previous reader had defaced the copy in the Cambridge Public Library by writing in simpler synonyms for a peculiar percentage of the vocabulary, of which the only example I can remember is "legs" for "shanks." I was indignant, especially since I knew all the contested words and felt insulted by the stranger with the red (or black—at this distance I don't remember and it seems unwise in this context to make up the detail) pen who thought I didn't. It is no longer part of the library's collection, according to the online catalogue of the Minuteman Library Network. I'd have bought it in a sale if I'd seen it, unwanted glosses notwithstanding. Those books still mean so much to me. I feel unjustifiably smug about the fact that my godchild seems to be liking the set I gave them.
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I have a zillion problems with my body and all its works, but I like my asymmetrical face. Don't jinx it, face.
I have been re-reading Lloyd Alexander's The Foundling and Other Tales of Prydain (1973) in the later edition that includes the texts of Coll and His White Pig (1965) and The Truthful Harp (1967). I read the latter for the first time as the original picture book illustrated by Evaline Ness; a previous reader had defaced the copy in the Cambridge Public Library by writing in simpler synonyms for a peculiar percentage of the vocabulary, of which the only example I can remember is "legs" for "shanks." I was indignant, especially since I knew all the contested words and felt insulted by the stranger with the red (or black—at this distance I don't remember and it seems unwise in this context to make up the detail) pen who thought I didn't. It is no longer part of the library's collection, according to the online catalogue of the Minuteman Library Network. I'd have bought it in a sale if I'd seen it, unwanted glosses notwithstanding. Those books still mean so much to me. I feel unjustifiably smug about the fact that my godchild seems to be liking the set I gave them.
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I don't blame you!
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I'd like to have some words with that previous reader, but said words would probably get crossed out too.
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And YES when the next generation likes a Very Important Thing. Every time I shared a touchstone, I felt like I was doing one of my great jobs in this life. When I got all of them shared, I felt almost like, well, my work here is now done.
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They do like them! I have to have a hot beverage before I can sustain the Gurgi performance, which owes a little to Andy Serkis and a little to the cat's voice, but we are having a lot of fun reading them aloud even if that whole Pen Llarcau thing set us back a week. *handwavey*
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[spoiler space for others' benefit]
"what do you mean he DIED? You can't REDEEM YOURSELF if you DIE. SPLAT is not a REDEMPTION."
....they're a very literal darling.
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Your secret smiling photo > Mona Lisa!
(Autocarrot knows how to spell the name of the painting but won't let me curse. Arghhh)
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