Yesterday we took Hestia to the vet for her annual physical which she was originally scheduled to share with her brother. She was assessed a good cat and suffered her claws to be clipped without egregious use of the hiss word. She has been spending most of her time with ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch, but last night as we were watching Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) she climbed onto my lap and fell asleep there.
I am grieving. I don't see how not. Every action in this house is different. For the last week I have been making oatmeal with goat's milk every other night or so and it remains strange not to have a small black barracuda winding himself at my feet and stretching up to scratch at the counter until I pour him his share of the milk. His sister has just never been as big a fan, although it is impossible to dice a ham steak within earshot without attracting her tithe. I take it seriously that people are still donating to the fundraiser.
I saw the news of the death of Peter Schickele. Because he arranged material for Joan Baez and Buffy Sainte-Marie and my parents liked the quiet science fiction of Silent Running (1972), I actually managed to grow up on his own-named music as well as Report from Hoople: P. D. Q. Bach on the Air (1967), Oedipus Tex and Other Choral Calamities (1990), and Music for an Awful Lot of Winds and Percussion (1992). Somewhere in storage we have The Definitive Biography of P. D. Q. Bach (1807–1742)? (1976), containing one of my favorite joke captions of a photograph, in this case of a phenomenally wrecked church, purporting to depict Our Lady of the Evening the morning after.
I don't know what I would vid to Ghoul Talk's "I Just Like to Watch" (2023), but I hope it occurs to someone, because its three-minute horror arc is fantastic.
This has just been a very tired week.
spatch, but last night as we were watching Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) she climbed onto my lap and fell asleep there.I am grieving. I don't see how not. Every action in this house is different. For the last week I have been making oatmeal with goat's milk every other night or so and it remains strange not to have a small black barracuda winding himself at my feet and stretching up to scratch at the counter until I pour him his share of the milk. His sister has just never been as big a fan, although it is impossible to dice a ham steak within earshot without attracting her tithe. I take it seriously that people are still donating to the fundraiser.
I saw the news of the death of Peter Schickele. Because he arranged material for Joan Baez and Buffy Sainte-Marie and my parents liked the quiet science fiction of Silent Running (1972), I actually managed to grow up on his own-named music as well as Report from Hoople: P. D. Q. Bach on the Air (1967), Oedipus Tex and Other Choral Calamities (1990), and Music for an Awful Lot of Winds and Percussion (1992). Somewhere in storage we have The Definitive Biography of P. D. Q. Bach (1807–1742)? (1976), containing one of my favorite joke captions of a photograph, in this case of a phenomenally wrecked church, purporting to depict Our Lady of the Evening the morning after.
I don't know what I would vid to Ghoul Talk's "I Just Like to Watch" (2023), but I hope it occurs to someone, because its three-minute horror arc is fantastic.
This has just been a very tired week.
