books and also pumpkin bread
What I just finished reading:
good omens which was close enough to the tv series (rather, the tv series was close enough to it) that i could visualize most of it, and not quite close enough that i went "wait, they didn't do this bit" a few times and "there was a scene in the show that's not in the book..." a few times. and then "was all of 1x03 new??" and it's funny.
The kraken doesn't have eyes. There has never been anything for it to look at. But as it billows up through the icy waters it picks up the microwave noise of the sea, the sorrowing beeps and whistles of the whalesong.
"Er," said the navigator, "one thousand meters?"
The kraken is not amused.
"Five hundred meters?"
The factory ship rocks on the sudden swell.
"A hundred meters?"
There is a tiny metal thing above it. The kraken stirs.
And ten billion sushi dinners cry out for vengeance.
also:
"Have you been drinking, sir?" asked the sergeant, less than hopefully.
"'Course I haven't been drinking, you great wazzock. You can see the fish, can't you?"
On the top of the pile a rather large octopus waved a languid tentacle at them. The sergeant resisted the temptation to wave back.
(i don't know why that particular bit made me laugh out loud, but it did.)
What I am reading now:
the worst hard time: the untold story of those who survived the great american dust bowl, by timothy egan. it's about the folks who stayed on the plains despite the dust bowl and i got it partly because it sounds interesting and partly because it counts as research for nano. i'm not that far into it but so far the author has found a reason to mention the red river war and the battle of palo duro canyon, home of the ghost horses, which means i've been trying to think of a way to work them into my nanonovel since monday. :D this is going to be a horrible story - i mean, the dust bowl was a massive ecological disaster and people and cattle died from basically breathing dirt, because there was so much of it in the air - but the way egan writes is really compelling.
What I'm going to read next:
i do not know.
nano is twenty this year - next year it will be old enough to drink legally! - and i'm about to start my seventeenth nanonovel. seventeen. good lord.
yesterday on my way to work i saw a delivery truck for i think legal sea foods (no-longer-local restaurant chain), and it had a fish on the side with "bite me" on it. you know, because it was a seafood delivery truck. well, i thought it was cute.
once a month at work we have a birthday potluck for everyone born that month. tomorrow is october's so i made a pumpkin bread with chocolate chips, or actually i made three pumpkin breads with chocolate chips because the recipe makes that much batter. you can bake your pumpkin breads in three 9x5 loaf pans or three one-pound coffee cans. i love that. it's so weirdly retro and calls back to the days when people drank coffee made with grounds that came in a metal can, which you could put to all kinds of other uses after you'd finished all the coffee. (my dad used them to hold miscellaneous nails and screws and who knows what else in his workshop.) since i don't drink coffee and so don't have coffee cans in my house, i baked my pumpkin breads in loaf pans. only one is going to work, tho. the other two are going in my freezer.
good omens which was close enough to the tv series (rather, the tv series was close enough to it) that i could visualize most of it, and not quite close enough that i went "wait, they didn't do this bit" a few times and "there was a scene in the show that's not in the book..." a few times. and then "was all of 1x03 new??" and it's funny.
The kraken doesn't have eyes. There has never been anything for it to look at. But as it billows up through the icy waters it picks up the microwave noise of the sea, the sorrowing beeps and whistles of the whalesong.
"Er," said the navigator, "one thousand meters?"
The kraken is not amused.
"Five hundred meters?"
The factory ship rocks on the sudden swell.
"A hundred meters?"
There is a tiny metal thing above it. The kraken stirs.
And ten billion sushi dinners cry out for vengeance.
also:
"Have you been drinking, sir?" asked the sergeant, less than hopefully.
"'Course I haven't been drinking, you great wazzock. You can see the fish, can't you?"
On the top of the pile a rather large octopus waved a languid tentacle at them. The sergeant resisted the temptation to wave back.
(i don't know why that particular bit made me laugh out loud, but it did.)
What I am reading now:
the worst hard time: the untold story of those who survived the great american dust bowl, by timothy egan. it's about the folks who stayed on the plains despite the dust bowl and i got it partly because it sounds interesting and partly because it counts as research for nano. i'm not that far into it but so far the author has found a reason to mention the red river war and the battle of palo duro canyon, home of the ghost horses, which means i've been trying to think of a way to work them into my nanonovel since monday. :D this is going to be a horrible story - i mean, the dust bowl was a massive ecological disaster and people and cattle died from basically breathing dirt, because there was so much of it in the air - but the way egan writes is really compelling.
What I'm going to read next:
i do not know.
nano is twenty this year - next year it will be old enough to drink legally! - and i'm about to start my seventeenth nanonovel. seventeen. good lord.
yesterday on my way to work i saw a delivery truck for i think legal sea foods (no-longer-local restaurant chain), and it had a fish on the side with "bite me" on it. you know, because it was a seafood delivery truck. well, i thought it was cute.
once a month at work we have a birthday potluck for everyone born that month. tomorrow is october's so i made a pumpkin bread with chocolate chips, or actually i made three pumpkin breads with chocolate chips because the recipe makes that much batter. you can bake your pumpkin breads in three 9x5 loaf pans or three one-pound coffee cans. i love that. it's so weirdly retro and calls back to the days when people drank coffee made with grounds that came in a metal can, which you could put to all kinds of other uses after you'd finished all the coffee. (my dad used them to hold miscellaneous nails and screws and who knows what else in his workshop.) since i don't drink coffee and so don't have coffee cans in my house, i baked my pumpkin breads in loaf pans. only one is going to work, tho. the other two are going in my freezer.