Having been fed to eleven-year-old satiety on sushi and udon and tempura, the triplets were settled with my niece's birthday DVD of My Neighbor Totoro (1988) and her new squishmallows, a seal wearing earmuffs and a quilted jacket and a sort of grey-and-white body pillow of a cat instantly identified with the Catbus. Neither of the twins had seen the movie before and asked interested questions throughout. Cupcakes with pink almond icing and strawberry sugar were served halfway through. We struck out on the Geminids, possibly due to the brilliance of the full moon, possibly due to the still early hour, but Mars and Jupiter were particularly distinct and Orion was doing great sky-striding. The last meteor shower of the year is the Ursids, apparently, peaking on the winter solstice.
Other than my niece's birthday observed, and the movie which I went to see in theaters, it has been a pretty awful week. I did get a nice photograph of the McGrath Highway Bridge, otherwise known in this household as the Easter bridge, returning from a dentist's appointment in a fog so thick that all the red lights of the motionless traffic turned the evening overcast interplanetary colors.
I take the point of this post and its associated article about how super-gendered as well as cultily dangerous cheerleading has become over functionally the course of my lifetime, but I also flashed on the baton-twirling scene in A Face in the Crowd (1957).
Detectorists (2014–2022) has had a wonderful sense of deep time since its first season, and I enjoyed immensely that it actually did an antiquarian ghost story for Christmas, but I really appreciate the hauntological plunge the third season just took in the form of the Unthanks' "Magpie."
Courtesy of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ashlyme: Cobalt Chapel, "We Come Willingly" (2017), by people who do sound as though they like Broadcast and the Focus Group, as fortunately do I.
Other than my niece's birthday observed, and the movie which I went to see in theaters, it has been a pretty awful week. I did get a nice photograph of the McGrath Highway Bridge, otherwise known in this household as the Easter bridge, returning from a dentist's appointment in a fog so thick that all the red lights of the motionless traffic turned the evening overcast interplanetary colors.
I take the point of this post and its associated article about how super-gendered as well as cultily dangerous cheerleading has become over functionally the course of my lifetime, but I also flashed on the baton-twirling scene in A Face in the Crowd (1957).
Detectorists (2014–2022) has had a wonderful sense of deep time since its first season, and I enjoyed immensely that it actually did an antiquarian ghost story for Christmas, but I really appreciate the hauntological plunge the third season just took in the form of the Unthanks' "Magpie."
Courtesy of
ashlyme: Cobalt Chapel, "We Come Willingly" (2017), by people who do sound as though they like Broadcast and the Focus Group, as fortunately do I.
