Rather prepared, but a little unplanned

[sovay]

So I have dental trauma you can slice a mile thick and just about the last thing I needed right now was for a notionally minor appointment this morning to add to it in a day-derailing way, but my godchild had their first day of middle school and the last of my mother's eleven monarch butterflies hatched and I have photographic evidence of both.



I think my godchild is constitutionally incapable of not being stylish.



It rested on my mother's hand for a long time, then flew up over the roof and away.

I am haphazardly re-reading the handful of Elizabeth Peters' Amelia Peabody mysteries currently unpacked. My introduction to the series in high school was actually The Last Camel Died at Noon (1991), which set me up to be extremely confused when none of the rest of the books were parody-pastiches of H. Rider Haggard. I have distinct memories of reading library hardcovers of The Curse of the Pharaohs (1981) and The Deeds of the Disturber (1988) in my grandparents' house, specifically while sitting on my grandparents' bed and on the couch downstairs—I think I had just taken out as much of the series as existed at the time, which would mean up to The Hippopotamus Pool (1996). I'm still not sure I caught up on all the later ones. In twenty-five years, my taste in favorite characters really hasn't changed.

Comments

[moon_custafer]

Are racehorse knee-straps a fashion item now? I don’t think I’ve seen anybody here wearing them yet.

[selkie]

The mismatch of two sets of a necessary thing is the style choice; the racehorse knees are a sad fact of outgrowing one’s kneecaps for the moment and the straps keep the kneecaps in place (Osgood-Schlatter’s.) They own straps in black, hot green, fluorescent blue, and are gunning for safety orange when we suggest “finding the rest of the ones they own.”