Natterings
Nothing major to see here, so if you're pressed for time, by all means, move along.
What? Still here. Fine, then as I sit here drinking Gypsy tea (Raspberry Earl Grey) from an actual blue-and-white mug whilst proferring you only an icon, I'll be happy to rattle on.
I'll be happy to catch you up on what's been going on 'round these parts lately. Mostly I've been well-filling as best I can. I've already told you about South Carolina and New York City and Real Pirates!, but there's been a bit more:
Last night, I went to see Mamma Mia! with hubby and with my good friend Angela and her husband as well. Hubby was the only one of us who isn't really an ABBA fan, so he (predictably, I thought) liked it the least of us all. I'd already heard the soundtrack, so I knew what most of the songs sounded like. And I must say that the folks who kvetch about Pierce Brosnan's voice can all go suck it, as far as I'm concerned. Not that he's got the smoothest, most polished singing voice I've ever heard, but the man can sing completely in tune, including navigating some difficult passages. He sings a bit roughly, sure, but it suits his character. He was lovely, you hear me? So don't let me hear you bashing Pierce's singing.
Also? Colin Firth almost made me pee my pants during the closing credits, I was laughing so hard. And I won't tell you precisely what it was that he did, but I can assure you that what made him so funny was his complete, 100% willingness to commit to his role. Humor may come from pain, but comedy comes from a willingness to commit to a character, and Colin? Colin committed, baby.
Today I read Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett. It is the latest of the books starring Tiffany Aching, a young witch of the Chalk. Now, I've mentioned the earlier ones in passing, and that's all I'm going to do with this one. For now. But sometime next week, I plan on talking about all three of them a bit more. Because they are witty and wise and funny and touching, and they have much to say about story. And in talking about story, they talk about life.
Work-wise, I've not got much to show lately. But perhaps this is as it should be. There have been children home, and travels, and that well got a bit empty, not only from those things, but from completing a draft of my gnomes manuscript and working on picture book revisions. I knew I was in trouble when Jane production screeched to a halt. I am not concerned about it. You see, I still love the idea, the project, the subject, etc. And this has happened before. Fatigue takes its toll, and one thing I've learned in the past six years, compliments of my rheumatoid arthritis, is that fatigue must be respected. Hence my occasional absences here (and in comments on other people's blogs), and the need to fill the well.
What have you been doing lately to fill the well? Enquiring minds want to know.
What? Still here. Fine, then as I sit here drinking Gypsy tea (Raspberry Earl Grey) from an actual blue-and-white mug whilst proferring you only an icon, I'll be happy to rattle on.
I'll be happy to catch you up on what's been going on 'round these parts lately. Mostly I've been well-filling as best I can. I've already told you about South Carolina and New York City and Real Pirates!, but there's been a bit more:
Last night, I went to see Mamma Mia! with hubby and with my good friend Angela and her husband as well. Hubby was the only one of us who isn't really an ABBA fan, so he (predictably, I thought) liked it the least of us all. I'd already heard the soundtrack, so I knew what most of the songs sounded like. And I must say that the folks who kvetch about Pierce Brosnan's voice can all go suck it, as far as I'm concerned. Not that he's got the smoothest, most polished singing voice I've ever heard, but the man can sing completely in tune, including navigating some difficult passages. He sings a bit roughly, sure, but it suits his character. He was lovely, you hear me? So don't let me hear you bashing Pierce's singing.
Also? Colin Firth almost made me pee my pants during the closing credits, I was laughing so hard. And I won't tell you precisely what it was that he did, but I can assure you that what made him so funny was his complete, 100% willingness to commit to his role. Humor may come from pain, but comedy comes from a willingness to commit to a character, and Colin? Colin committed, baby.
Today I read Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett. It is the latest of the books starring Tiffany Aching, a young witch of the Chalk. Now, I've mentioned the earlier ones in passing, and that's all I'm going to do with this one. For now. But sometime next week, I plan on talking about all three of them a bit more. Because they are witty and wise and funny and touching, and they have much to say about story. And in talking about story, they talk about life.
Work-wise, I've not got much to show lately. But perhaps this is as it should be. There have been children home, and travels, and that well got a bit empty, not only from those things, but from completing a draft of my gnomes manuscript and working on picture book revisions. I knew I was in trouble when Jane production screeched to a halt. I am not concerned about it. You see, I still love the idea, the project, the subject, etc. And this has happened before. Fatigue takes its toll, and one thing I've learned in the past six years, compliments of my rheumatoid arthritis, is that fatigue must be respected. Hence my occasional absences here (and in comments on other people's blogs), and the need to fill the well.
What have you been doing lately to fill the well? Enquiring minds want to know.