things wot i did over the holidays, plus a bit o' fic
*Took the cats to sweetheart's mom's in Indiana (a two hour car trip). We thought the meds the vet gave us weren't really working because Sam yowled for the first hour in that frightening way that's half human-child and half alien being. But then when Logan refused to take his pill on the way back and became so terrified by the 10 foot walk to the car that he peed all over the Boy, it became apparent that they did help before. Once we were there though, the beasts had a whole new place to explore, which was cute, and dorky as it might seem, their presence made me feel more like I had family with me.
*Spent the first three days there w/ migraines, but then...
*Watched all of S2 of Merlin, plus Secrets & Magic, which is the best part sometimes, esp. because Boy totes crushes on Bradley James. Also, went to see Avatar and Sherlock Holmes.
*Survived two large family dinners.
*Learned to knit! While re-watching all the HP movies, except for OotP for some reason, out of order. Thus far I have made two hats and 3/4 of a scarf. May or may not be looking up HP knitting patterns at this v. moment.
*Sample of loot acquired: 5 quart slow cooker, splendid german garlic press w/ lifetime warranty, books about how not to lose your mind while dissertating, Anne of Green Gables cookbooks, usb thingie shaped like teddy bear, carved wood Balinese angel w/ baby (from my mother, who worried that this would make me "feel pressured").
Additionally I got drunkish on New Years and paid for it the next day like the old lady that I am, and have been chipping away at my writer's block, gently.
*****
A sample, from beckaandzac's prompt: "Ron/Hermione, Muggle Cooking." PG. 700-ish words. unbetaed.
Sometimes it seems like everything about Hermione’s childhood was different from Ron’s. And Christmas is all about childhood, and tradition. It’s also about the future, or it is when you bring your bloke home with you to sleep in the spare bedroom and fret over appropriate gifts for your Muggle parents and when he’ll get to see you naked again. She’s more aware of it than he is-how very different their lives were before Hogwarts. But that’s to be expected, considering that they have the same life together now.
Christmas is also all about mounds of food and endless cooking, a notion certainly not foreign to Ron, who was raised by Mrs. Weasley after all. However, in the Granger househould, it is Mr. Granger and Hermione who make Christmas pudding together, plus all the other courses and tidbits as well. Mrs. Granger does not, can not, will not cook. This is how it always has been, Christmas or no. She decorates, and vacuums up errant pine needles from beneath the tree (giving Ron a fright), and is thoroughly appreciative of all the various holiday cookies and pasties produced by her loving husband and daughter. But she does not cook.
“Is this how it is with all Muggle families?” Ron whispers to Hermione once her dad’s gone off to the grocery for more butter and sugar (always more butter and sugar).
“What?” Hermione looks up from her dough, distracted, with flour on her nose and most likely dusting frizzles of her hair as well-unless she’s going prematurely grey.
“Do the men do all the cooking?” He looks nervous.
A flash of understanding crosses Hermione’s features, then one of annoyance, followed quickly by amusement. “No, of course not,” she points out logically, “I’ve done my fair share, haven’t I? And I’m a girl-I mean, woman.” To punctuate, she takes out a rolling pin from a drawer and pounds it down onto a lump of sugar-cookies-to-be.
“Oh,” Ron says, staring at her bemusedly.
“You see, Ronald,” Hermione continues, “we are living in the 21st century. It isn’t a woman’s obligation to cook. But she can if she likes-if she chooses to do so.”
“My mum certainly seems to like it,” Ron notes. “Or at least, I always assumed she did,” he adds quickly, then pauses briefly before mumbling, “Actually, I’d never really given the matter much thought.”
Ron waits for a scolding that surprisingly doesn’t come.
Hermione just says, “well, most of us don’t question the order of things when we’re children. Sort of how it didn’t occur to me that magic could be real, but I believed in Santa Claus.”
“Er, Hermione, Santa Claus is real. Quite the jolly wizard, him. Doesn’t usually deliver to Muggle families though, just every once in awhile. Think it’s against protocol ‘bout doing magic around Muggles, but the Ministry looks the other way, since it’s Christmas and all.”
“Oh!” Hermione peeps, eyes wide. “Of course!” Then she averts her gaze to admire the two full trays of stars and snowmen she’s cut out and decorated as they’ve been talking.
Ron swipes a bit of excess dough from the counter and pops it into his mouth. “This is delicious, Hermione!” he exclaims.
She beams, and lightly swats his thieving fingers. “Well, you should taste it once it’s been baked.”
“So,” Ron inquires slowly while Hermione opens and shuts the oven door, “you like cooking then?”
“Very much.” She looks up at him with affection. “I can teach you, if you’d like.”
“Sure.” Ron nods. “But we can use magic, right? Because this is taking forever, and…”
“And my parents are out and you’d like to sneak in some snogging under the mistletoe?”
“Exactly. Or on the couch. That’d work too.”
Hermione gets up on her tiptoes and put her lips to his, right then and there, until Ron’s blushing pink and thoroughly kissed. Then she wraps her arms about his middle and puts her cheek to his sweatered chest, concluding, “Of course we’ll use magic, but here, ‘cause it’s Christmas, we’ll do it my dad’s way.”
"The cooking, you mean."
"Yes, of course, the cooking!"
*
Incidentally, HP folks, were there any especial goodies at any of the gift exchanges/ficathons/etc. this year? Links?
Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYBODY.
*Spent the first three days there w/ migraines, but then...
*Watched all of S2 of Merlin, plus Secrets & Magic, which is the best part sometimes, esp. because Boy totes crushes on Bradley James. Also, went to see Avatar and Sherlock Holmes.
*Survived two large family dinners.
*Learned to knit! While re-watching all the HP movies, except for OotP for some reason, out of order. Thus far I have made two hats and 3/4 of a scarf. May or may not be looking up HP knitting patterns at this v. moment.
*Sample of loot acquired: 5 quart slow cooker, splendid german garlic press w/ lifetime warranty, books about how not to lose your mind while dissertating, Anne of Green Gables cookbooks, usb thingie shaped like teddy bear, carved wood Balinese angel w/ baby (from my mother, who worried that this would make me "feel pressured").
Additionally I got drunkish on New Years and paid for it the next day like the old lady that I am, and have been chipping away at my writer's block, gently.
*****
A sample, from beckaandzac's prompt: "Ron/Hermione, Muggle Cooking." PG. 700-ish words. unbetaed.
Sometimes it seems like everything about Hermione’s childhood was different from Ron’s. And Christmas is all about childhood, and tradition. It’s also about the future, or it is when you bring your bloke home with you to sleep in the spare bedroom and fret over appropriate gifts for your Muggle parents and when he’ll get to see you naked again. She’s more aware of it than he is-how very different their lives were before Hogwarts. But that’s to be expected, considering that they have the same life together now.
Christmas is also all about mounds of food and endless cooking, a notion certainly not foreign to Ron, who was raised by Mrs. Weasley after all. However, in the Granger househould, it is Mr. Granger and Hermione who make Christmas pudding together, plus all the other courses and tidbits as well. Mrs. Granger does not, can not, will not cook. This is how it always has been, Christmas or no. She decorates, and vacuums up errant pine needles from beneath the tree (giving Ron a fright), and is thoroughly appreciative of all the various holiday cookies and pasties produced by her loving husband and daughter. But she does not cook.
“Is this how it is with all Muggle families?” Ron whispers to Hermione once her dad’s gone off to the grocery for more butter and sugar (always more butter and sugar).
“What?” Hermione looks up from her dough, distracted, with flour on her nose and most likely dusting frizzles of her hair as well-unless she’s going prematurely grey.
“Do the men do all the cooking?” He looks nervous.
A flash of understanding crosses Hermione’s features, then one of annoyance, followed quickly by amusement. “No, of course not,” she points out logically, “I’ve done my fair share, haven’t I? And I’m a girl-I mean, woman.” To punctuate, she takes out a rolling pin from a drawer and pounds it down onto a lump of sugar-cookies-to-be.
“Oh,” Ron says, staring at her bemusedly.
“You see, Ronald,” Hermione continues, “we are living in the 21st century. It isn’t a woman’s obligation to cook. But she can if she likes-if she chooses to do so.”
“My mum certainly seems to like it,” Ron notes. “Or at least, I always assumed she did,” he adds quickly, then pauses briefly before mumbling, “Actually, I’d never really given the matter much thought.”
Ron waits for a scolding that surprisingly doesn’t come.
Hermione just says, “well, most of us don’t question the order of things when we’re children. Sort of how it didn’t occur to me that magic could be real, but I believed in Santa Claus.”
“Er, Hermione, Santa Claus is real. Quite the jolly wizard, him. Doesn’t usually deliver to Muggle families though, just every once in awhile. Think it’s against protocol ‘bout doing magic around Muggles, but the Ministry looks the other way, since it’s Christmas and all.”
“Oh!” Hermione peeps, eyes wide. “Of course!” Then she averts her gaze to admire the two full trays of stars and snowmen she’s cut out and decorated as they’ve been talking.
Ron swipes a bit of excess dough from the counter and pops it into his mouth. “This is delicious, Hermione!” he exclaims.
She beams, and lightly swats his thieving fingers. “Well, you should taste it once it’s been baked.”
“So,” Ron inquires slowly while Hermione opens and shuts the oven door, “you like cooking then?”
“Very much.” She looks up at him with affection. “I can teach you, if you’d like.”
“Sure.” Ron nods. “But we can use magic, right? Because this is taking forever, and…”
“And my parents are out and you’d like to sneak in some snogging under the mistletoe?”
“Exactly. Or on the couch. That’d work too.”
Hermione gets up on her tiptoes and put her lips to his, right then and there, until Ron’s blushing pink and thoroughly kissed. Then she wraps her arms about his middle and puts her cheek to his sweatered chest, concluding, “Of course we’ll use magic, but here, ‘cause it’s Christmas, we’ll do it my dad’s way.”
"The cooking, you mean."
"Yes, of course, the cooking!"
*
Incidentally, HP folks, were there any especial goodies at any of the gift exchanges/ficathons/etc. this year? Links?
Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYBODY.