apparently moving makes me even more longwinded than usual
My mother called Verizon and apparently chewed them out until they relented and promised to send out an internet installation force this evening, instead of on Monday. I am well pleased (and also amused). I now have a way to watch Pushing Daisies tonight, as we do not get television until tomorrow. I am also considering making pumpkin cup-pies. If not this week, then next? (If only I had someone else to watch it with. :p)
My bed is on its frame at last, but I am still feeling somewhat overwhelmed where my bedroom is concerned -- so many books! (I know, I know.) And the ones which actually belong to me rather than being Family-Owned Books are rapidly increasing in number, and besides those are quite a lot I don't want to let out of my sight. I have two shelves in the shelfiest closet full of my most important books -- one shelf with my poetry, and the books I am closest to, and another shelf with my books-about-the-English-language and my Tolkien (of which there is a lot), and one more shelf with Harry Potter and Anne Shirley and some L'Engle. There is a box of books I don't need to have in my room, and two more boxes of books which I haven't found places for just yet. The closet most full of shelves I am turning into a reading nook -- it's quite large, and tall, and has a sort of -- bottom shelf? which is exactly right for sitting in, once I take out the air mattress the Presbyterians left in there, and put in some cushions. Other shelves currently house attractive vintage boxes of papers (one is a hat box), a pile of notebooks, and an amusing little collection of items: a blue glass inkwell shaped like George Washington's head (look, I don't know, I didn't buy it) filled with two feather pens, the fountain pen barefoottomboy sent me for my birthday, and a black cloth rose, nestled with left-over magenta Manic Panic and cheap black nail polish, and the notebooks.
By the way, my black and pink notebook, which I will have to take pictures of as the pattern never ceases to make me very happy, has been officially designated the Evangeline Notebook (I may start calling it Evy -- the black-with-felt-overlays spiral notebook Kyra got me for Christmas wrapped in sparkly paper named itself Edward, and now all the notebooks are clamouring for titles and starting unions and things). I am hoping things start being written in there soon. I have attempted to write a list of characters, but nobody except for the three sisters even has got names, and the youngest sister is on her third name now. (She started out as Priscilla, which suited her, but the middle sister is Camilla, and that would be silly. She was Phoebe for a while, then, but that didn't suit her much, and now she is telling me that she wants to be called Briony, even though I told her I wanted to use that name some other time, but Briony Nox does have a ring to it, and it does have a sense of feistyness, and the youngest Miss Nox is a bit of a spitfire. Which I can already tell. Though none of the Nox sisters is exactly docile and conformist to begin with. I haven't written Briony into the notebook yet.) The mother is vague, the father isn't showing up at all, despite my trying so very hard to have a complete happy family in one story at least, the primary vampire is nameless, and I am trying to do what Orson Scott Card said in Characters & Viewpoint and think about who else is in the story? -- who works at the library with Evy, who is part of the vampire-hunting organisation, who are the Noxes neighbours, their friends, who owns the shops where they buy food and household supplies, who are the vampires? (But then the vampires are the absolute most difficult bit of the entire novel. Oh dear.) But not a lot is coming clear. HALP.
Digressions aside. The bedroom desperately needs sorting, the living room is not currently very liveable, but the kitchen is coming along nicely. The stove, we have discovered, was manufactured in the sixties -- it's full of vintage quirk and whimsy. The shelves are metal and painted white. The kitchen itself is largely yellow. Most things have been put in their cupboards and drawers and the refridgerator, and Mum & I are planning a fifties and sixties diner theme of decor, already established by the stove & cupboards. There will probably be ruffled curtains, and already she has bought a pair of vintage metal signs. (Excuse me, a bloke came into the library just now and said something and his vocal inflections sounded disturbingly like Connor. I'm not sure which of the crowd he was, which is good, for both of our sakes.)
Last night I registered to vote. It was very exciting. Well, no, it wasn't, really; I walked into the office and collected an application and filled it out and had to remember the new address (I am currently terrified that I mixed a number), and then I walked down to the post office -- this was after dark!! -- and slipped it through the mail slot. But yes, I will be voting, hurrah. And that is likely the last discussion of American politics that you will see on this journal for some time, wot wot.
I had lunch in the back yard. There's a bench on the border of it, but that clearly belongs to the preschool next door, which was in session, and I didn't want to get myself into unnecessary trouble, so I sat down on the edge of the hill instead. The house is on a hill, which is sort of more like a very soft short cliff -- the road is straight down from the edge of the yard. (Well, no, the two yards of grass are straight down, and then there is the road.) It's been raining -- very cosily, making lots of pattering on my window! -- so everything was a bit damp, but there's long bit of wood at the edge of the yard, and then bracken all the way down from there, so I sat on the wood and dangled my legs over the road and watched people go by (or anyway when I wasn't reading Ender's Game). I foresee much interesting people-watching in my future.
And now I am desperately craving sweets, so off I go home...on the route that passes by places which sell such things. La la la la la...
(Shall be catching up at last over the next several weeks, and yes, of course there will be many many many pictures!!)
My bed is on its frame at last, but I am still feeling somewhat overwhelmed where my bedroom is concerned -- so many books! (I know, I know.) And the ones which actually belong to me rather than being Family-Owned Books are rapidly increasing in number, and besides those are quite a lot I don't want to let out of my sight. I have two shelves in the shelfiest closet full of my most important books -- one shelf with my poetry, and the books I am closest to, and another shelf with my books-about-the-English-language and my Tolkien (of which there is a lot), and one more shelf with Harry Potter and Anne Shirley and some L'Engle. There is a box of books I don't need to have in my room, and two more boxes of books which I haven't found places for just yet. The closet most full of shelves I am turning into a reading nook -- it's quite large, and tall, and has a sort of -- bottom shelf? which is exactly right for sitting in, once I take out the air mattress the Presbyterians left in there, and put in some cushions. Other shelves currently house attractive vintage boxes of papers (one is a hat box), a pile of notebooks, and an amusing little collection of items: a blue glass inkwell shaped like George Washington's head (look, I don't know, I didn't buy it) filled with two feather pens, the fountain pen barefoottomboy sent me for my birthday, and a black cloth rose, nestled with left-over magenta Manic Panic and cheap black nail polish, and the notebooks.
By the way, my black and pink notebook, which I will have to take pictures of as the pattern never ceases to make me very happy, has been officially designated the Evangeline Notebook (I may start calling it Evy -- the black-with-felt-overlays spiral notebook Kyra got me for Christmas wrapped in sparkly paper named itself Edward, and now all the notebooks are clamouring for titles and starting unions and things). I am hoping things start being written in there soon. I have attempted to write a list of characters, but nobody except for the three sisters even has got names, and the youngest sister is on her third name now. (She started out as Priscilla, which suited her, but the middle sister is Camilla, and that would be silly. She was Phoebe for a while, then, but that didn't suit her much, and now she is telling me that she wants to be called Briony, even though I told her I wanted to use that name some other time, but Briony Nox does have a ring to it, and it does have a sense of feistyness, and the youngest Miss Nox is a bit of a spitfire. Which I can already tell. Though none of the Nox sisters is exactly docile and conformist to begin with. I haven't written Briony into the notebook yet.) The mother is vague, the father isn't showing up at all, despite my trying so very hard to have a complete happy family in one story at least, the primary vampire is nameless, and I am trying to do what Orson Scott Card said in Characters & Viewpoint and think about who else is in the story? -- who works at the library with Evy, who is part of the vampire-hunting organisation, who are the Noxes neighbours, their friends, who owns the shops where they buy food and household supplies, who are the vampires? (But then the vampires are the absolute most difficult bit of the entire novel. Oh dear.) But not a lot is coming clear. HALP.
Digressions aside. The bedroom desperately needs sorting, the living room is not currently very liveable, but the kitchen is coming along nicely. The stove, we have discovered, was manufactured in the sixties -- it's full of vintage quirk and whimsy. The shelves are metal and painted white. The kitchen itself is largely yellow. Most things have been put in their cupboards and drawers and the refridgerator, and Mum & I are planning a fifties and sixties diner theme of decor, already established by the stove & cupboards. There will probably be ruffled curtains, and already she has bought a pair of vintage metal signs. (Excuse me, a bloke came into the library just now and said something and his vocal inflections sounded disturbingly like Connor. I'm not sure which of the crowd he was, which is good, for both of our sakes.)
Last night I registered to vote. It was very exciting. Well, no, it wasn't, really; I walked into the office and collected an application and filled it out and had to remember the new address (I am currently terrified that I mixed a number), and then I walked down to the post office -- this was after dark!! -- and slipped it through the mail slot. But yes, I will be voting, hurrah. And that is likely the last discussion of American politics that you will see on this journal for some time, wot wot.
I had lunch in the back yard. There's a bench on the border of it, but that clearly belongs to the preschool next door, which was in session, and I didn't want to get myself into unnecessary trouble, so I sat down on the edge of the hill instead. The house is on a hill, which is sort of more like a very soft short cliff -- the road is straight down from the edge of the yard. (Well, no, the two yards of grass are straight down, and then there is the road.) It's been raining -- very cosily, making lots of pattering on my window! -- so everything was a bit damp, but there's long bit of wood at the edge of the yard, and then bracken all the way down from there, so I sat on the wood and dangled my legs over the road and watched people go by (or anyway when I wasn't reading Ender's Game). I foresee much interesting people-watching in my future.
And now I am desperately craving sweets, so off I go home...on the route that passes by places which sell such things. La la la la la...
(Shall be catching up at last over the next several weeks, and yes, of course there will be many many many pictures!!)