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When the sun and the moon set in the north hills
This is one of those aten't dead posts. Over the weekend I had one deadline for Arisia and another for a Lexington newspaper which had asked permission to reprint my post for Dr. Fiveash provided I could edit and condense it: I made both of these deadlines and as a result I feel productive, but that was also about all I did with my weekend. (Arisia on Saturday, Colonial Times on Sunday. Not missing the latter mattered very much to me: it was an honor to be asked and I am very happy it was not yet another opportunity that I let slip by.) Also ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel and I finally have a move-in date—Wednesday—and therefore much of this evening went toward belated work on my part and throwing books and discs and miscellany into boxes on his. We didn't make it out to Young Frankenstein (1974) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. Except for a good last voice lesson before Sunday's concert, I had an appalling day full of late buses and the return of fighting with pharmacies, and so Rob took me to Highland Kitchen for dinner, where there was restorative goat stew and house-made scotch bonnet-infused ginger beer (seriously, best soda ever—you can order it by the glass, but I don't think they bottle it) and Rob with exquisite thoughtfulness gave me the head off his whole trout wrapped in bacon and lemon slices and of course I ate it, because there is delicious meat in the face of a fish. That came out sounding creepier than I intended.
alankria is now editing The Mammoth Book of SF Stories by Women. If both of these criteria apply to your work, try your luck!
I am going to take a very hot shower. It is freezing in this house. In two nights I can be freezing somewhere else.
derspatchel and I finally have a move-in date—Wednesday—and therefore much of this evening went toward belated work on my part and throwing books and discs and miscellany into boxes on his. We didn't make it out to Young Frankenstein (1974) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. Except for a good last voice lesson before Sunday's concert, I had an appalling day full of late buses and the return of fighting with pharmacies, and so Rob took me to Highland Kitchen for dinner, where there was restorative goat stew and house-made scotch bonnet-infused ginger beer (seriously, best soda ever—you can order it by the glass, but I don't think they bottle it) and Rob with exquisite thoughtfulness gave me the head off his whole trout wrapped in bacon and lemon slices and of course I ate it, because there is delicious meat in the face of a fish. That came out sounding creepier than I intended.alankria is now editing The Mammoth Book of SF Stories by Women. If both of these criteria apply to your work, try your luck!I am going to take a very hot shower. It is freezing in this house. In two nights I can be freezing somewhere else.
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Well, the move is almost entirely accomplished! Next up: sleep.