So, the season four finale of Angel has left me with this insatiable need to listen to Dario Marianelli non-stop. I DON'T EVEN KNOW. It was weird enough that somewhere in the middle of season three, my brain said to me, "YOU NEED TO PLAY DEBUSSY'S "CLAIR DE LUNE" ON REPEAT FOR HOURS, OKAY?", and I said, "erm...okay?". I suppose it was a small step ( Read more... )

Today my bicycle finally acquired a name.

I spent much of the afternoon at the library with Sarah, Hannah, and Victoria (Alessandra left yesterday to spend Pascha -- Orthodox Easter -- in Maine with her family), except for the part I spent doing yard-work (not entirely voluntarily, but Sarah and Hannah stopped to chat after church and Caroline ( Read more... )

The temperature climbed to eighty degrees today. I threw open my bedroom windows, basked on the lawn a while, tried to beg errands off of people simply so I'd have someplace to bicycle (it didn't really work; everybody went and did their own errands, drat them) -- oh, it's lovely. I'm in a sleeveless dress and no stockings at all; I'd have run ( Read more... )

Today I got a package from the marvellous
( Read more... )

I may never have been so content as I was spending all day Tuesday in the car with people I love, looking out at the city from the windows. We went to pick up Alessandra from the airport, and -- you know, I leave the city, I spend my days here, and every time I begin to think that it's only imagination, or want-to-be-wanting, or sentimentality, but ( Read more... )

So, Christmas.

Christmas Eve my senses all woke up. I'd been feeling as though I'd been walking through gauze, and suddenly it wasn't there anymore. I baked cookies and spun round and round the dining room singing.

We'd planned to go to the Christmas Eve service at the Orthodox church next door, since it's -- well, next door, and we've got friends ( Read more... )

You lot are all profoundly amazing ( Read more... )

So here I am in the Minas Morgul Funhouse, also known as the Abode de Meholick. Mrs. M is, you see, the Witch-Queen of Angmar (my mother is the Dark Lady Sauroneena, and ths has been going on since Sarah M and I were ten and eleven, respectively), so her hom ei snamed accordingly. Except that now we are living in their former home, so I suppose the ( Read more... )

So, one of the first things I discovered in Alyssa's family's house has been sending me into fits of geeky squeeishness.

They own what is apparently a first edition copy of T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets (published in 1943, I believe; somewhere around there, at least). Tucked inside of it are typewritten copies of 'Rhapsody on a Windy Night', 'The Love ( Read more... )