You still don't know my name and you're always so cold
Rabbit, rabbit! We have a pigeon in our back porch. Presumably it is sheltering from the cold, having flown in like everyone else through the absence of door. ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch saw it this morning and reports that the dead bugs which normally cover the windowsill have inexplicably vanished. So as not to spook it, I did my best to photograph it through the kitchen window, hence the environment of multiple reflections. I hope it feels safe. Hestia has not yet noticed its existence.
I was reminded earlier this afternoon of the tartan that came out of a bog. It even looks as though it can be worn by people who can't trace their ancestry to bog bodies. Less pleasantly, I was reminded of an article about Tesla cars by reading about the Odysseus moon landing. I understand it really wasn't a wash, but "unqualified success" seems a strong translation of "even heroically last-minute engineering salvaged only partial data thanks to a major missed pre-flight checklist step among other inherent glitches." I would like to feel unmixedly cheerful about new space exploration and it's hard when it's all the same language of disruption and innovation that data-scrapes my life and makes my city less and less habitable.
For reasons that are not medically mystifying, the significantly blurred vision in one eye with which I have been dealing for the last week is my new normal for the foreseeable future. I am not looking for advice; it should resolve without complications; I am just complaining, especially since it interferes most with my ability to look at screens. I have been recommended to black out one lens of my glasses with gauze and tape. Seriously an eyepatch seems more dashing and less trouble.
spatch saw it this morning and reports that the dead bugs which normally cover the windowsill have inexplicably vanished. So as not to spook it, I did my best to photograph it through the kitchen window, hence the environment of multiple reflections. I hope it feels safe. Hestia has not yet noticed its existence.
I was reminded earlier this afternoon of the tartan that came out of a bog. It even looks as though it can be worn by people who can't trace their ancestry to bog bodies. Less pleasantly, I was reminded of an article about Tesla cars by reading about the Odysseus moon landing. I understand it really wasn't a wash, but "unqualified success" seems a strong translation of "even heroically last-minute engineering salvaged only partial data thanks to a major missed pre-flight checklist step among other inherent glitches." I would like to feel unmixedly cheerful about new space exploration and it's hard when it's all the same language of disruption and innovation that data-scrapes my life and makes my city less and less habitable.
For reasons that are not medically mystifying, the significantly blurred vision in one eye with which I have been dealing for the last week is my new normal for the foreseeable future. I am not looking for advice; it should resolve without complications; I am just complaining, especially since it interferes most with my ability to look at screens. I have been recommended to black out one lens of my glasses with gauze and tape. Seriously an eyepatch seems more dashing and less trouble.
no subject
I assume it has to do with the effect of the peat acids on the original dyes. The recreation doesn't look inconsistent to me if you assume that the contrasts between the lighter and darker bands have been eroded—the original pattern is clearer in this image where you can see the grid of the deeper-dyed columns, especially near the bottom horizontally and vertically in the right-hand half. I don't know what the original dyes would have been, but some of them must have been more colorfast under the circumstances than others. Everything that goes into a peat bog basically tans. It's the source of that beautiful blackened metallic effect in the skins of bog bodies, who didn't all start off with rust-colored hair.
[edit] Cf. the difference between the Huldremose woman's clothes as excavated and as reconstructed from similar analysis of the dyes.
no subject