Yes, I'm finally getting down to this thing that I posted so very long ago ( Read more... )

Yes, I have picked up an Atwood novel even though I swore her off after the debacle of The Handmaid's Tale. Even though I intensely disliked her book, I never doubted her talent for writing. I had to grudgingly admit that she had, and still has, a way with words and an imagination that is far beyond me ( Read more... )

UM. I know these things are semi-generic comments that I can construe as anything, but how on earth are some of the things so accurate?

Your Existing Situation
Acts in an orderly, methodical, and self-contained manner. Needs the sympathetic understanding of someone who will give her recognition and approval.

Your Stress SourcesWishes to be ( Read more... )

I've posted this once before but I took it down ( Read more... )

Walking home is the best part of the day (unless I'm carrying heavy groceries). Leaving home in the mornings is usually a rushed angsty affair of "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late for a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" Returning home in the evenings, I have the luxury of appreciating the crunch of ( Read more... )

my room is such an impossible mess. more impossible is how fitting a metaphor my room is for my life. my only solace is working on the panoramic puzzle that arrived this week. even as everything else is falling to pieces, i can still put these little cardboard pieces together.

work has become a stagnant cesspool. housework is a bottomless cesspool ( Read more... )

PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP!!!

I stitched this together a while ago (the same morning I wrote about the sunrise from my window). The seams of the pictures are visible, but it's still breathtaking.

( Panorama )

once in a while, there is a disquieting rumble in my heart. it is a restless murmur that does not even know why it is banging against my ribcage. it is a collection of both public and private desires -- things that i dream about but have not yet seen.

Shakespeare in Love is Shakespeare indeed. The fact that is woven into fiction sets to life Shakespeare himself, when his only remnants are a collection of dust-collecting plays ( Read more... )