Random Thoughts on a Rainy Thursday
Thursday, October 22nd, 2009 08:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rolanniI absolutely do not need one more t-shirt in my life. Which is of course why I have developed a fondness for two: Science is a Verb Now and You're a Good Man, Charlie Darwin.
There was a ghost cat in the kitchen this morning, audibly eating crunchies. Hexapuma sat on the bench above the cat plates, ears pricked forward; Mozart politely chickened down on the rug in front of the plates, and waited. Scrabble sat in the window and pretended not to notice. When the crunching stopped, Scrabble jumped out of the window; Mozart got up, stretched, and went to have a few mouthfuls, himself; Hex put his chin on his paws and did cat nappery.
Back when I was a young person -- before I'd met![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kinzel, which puts it more than half my life ago -- I owned a fur coat, which I had from my grandmother. Besides being soft and pretty and a kick to wear with jeans, it was the coldest garment I'd ever owned. Every single animal that had donated a pelt to that coat had died of pneumonia. It had big bell sleeves and when I left it out on the sofa overnight (because the closet had no insulation), Archie would curl up and go to sleep inside of one.
Must leave work early today.
I'm a natural left-hander, converted to the path of right-handedness by circumstances. My mother tried to switch crayons, spoons and the like from my left-hand to my right hand, but I easily resisted her. One grandmother didn't care which hand I used for what, and the other one would smack me into next Wednesday if I dared insult her by taking something from her with my left hand. When I went to school, the Sisters of Mercy kept with that program, and in self-defense I learned to write with my right hand, and to receive things from the hands of other people with my right hand, but did everything else with my left hand. Years later, I was in a car accident that damaged my left shoulder and left the arm and hand weaker than they had been, so I shifted some tasks to my right hand. Now, of course, I've hurt my right arm, and trying to remember to switch back to using my left hand is driving me bugs.
There's a tree outside my window, a little downhill, full-leafed, and blazing orange and yellow.
There was a ghost cat in the kitchen this morning, audibly eating crunchies. Hexapuma sat on the bench above the cat plates, ears pricked forward; Mozart politely chickened down on the rug in front of the plates, and waited. Scrabble sat in the window and pretended not to notice. When the crunching stopped, Scrabble jumped out of the window; Mozart got up, stretched, and went to have a few mouthfuls, himself; Hex put his chin on his paws and did cat nappery.
Back when I was a young person -- before I'd met
kinzel, which puts it more than half my life ago -- I owned a fur coat, which I had from my grandmother. Besides being soft and pretty and a kick to wear with jeans, it was the coldest garment I'd ever owned. Every single animal that had donated a pelt to that coat had died of pneumonia. It had big bell sleeves and when I left it out on the sofa overnight (because the closet had no insulation), Archie would curl up and go to sleep inside of one.Must leave work early today.
I'm a natural left-hander, converted to the path of right-handedness by circumstances. My mother tried to switch crayons, spoons and the like from my left-hand to my right hand, but I easily resisted her. One grandmother didn't care which hand I used for what, and the other one would smack me into next Wednesday if I dared insult her by taking something from her with my left hand. When I went to school, the Sisters of Mercy kept with that program, and in self-defense I learned to write with my right hand, and to receive things from the hands of other people with my right hand, but did everything else with my left hand. Years later, I was in a car accident that damaged my left shoulder and left the arm and hand weaker than they had been, so I shifted some tasks to my right hand. Now, of course, I've hurt my right arm, and trying to remember to switch back to using my left hand is driving me bugs.
There's a tree outside my window, a little downhill, full-leafed, and blazing orange and yellow.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
It's the Jupiter People
Date: 2009-10-22 10:02 pm (UTC)Our leaves are pretty too, but the 2 inches of snow (?!!) in Owings Mills last Sunday looked just silly on top of the leaves still on the trees. Mind you, it was gone in a few hours but it startled more than a few of us. The trees looked like big fat cotton swabs.
Don't you love Fall?
Lauretta@ ConstellationBooks
PS One of my Manga fans got his first look at a Patterson's-Maximum-Ride-manga and sighed, "I just don't how to read American Manga." I snickered the rest of yesterday...
no subject
Date: 2009-10-22 11:46 pm (UTC)Barbara in Texas
maundering magnificence!
Date: 2009-10-23 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-23 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-23 10:11 am (UTC)Balance of Trade sighting
Date: 2009-10-23 10:02 am (UTC)You have found your way to Oz!
rfalken
Re: Balance of Trade sighting
Date: 2009-10-23 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-24 10:00 pm (UTC)I think used books stores can be some of the happiest/saddest places I know. Happy - you discover a new author/series/genre you just don't find in BigBox stores.
Sad - you open several books to discover someone has been *selling their collection* and you wonder why. Death? Illness? Boredom? Not Enough Room For All The Books I Want?
/random thoughts - hardly original.