New icon courtesy of dontfeedthetiki, and a conversation about how contemporary video gamers are just plain wusstastic.

*twinkle twinkle*



Finished my scheduled projects well ahead of time yesterday, including progress on that craft meme have been doing for ages. Just need a little ribbon and the glue gun, and we're good to go. If there's any creative accoutrement more delightful than a glue gun, I don't want to know what it is, lest I die of envy.

All fired up by decoupage, started in on the kitchen cupboards. They are now clean, orderly, and devoid of all that tea. Tea is, IMHO, medicinal, not recreational, so I need very little of it. Off to the living room it went.

S. did come, and it was a little weird. Civil, but weird. I get the sense there's things he wants to say, and isn't, but I could be projecting. Wobbled a bit right after he left, but only because it's so weird. I mean, the fact that he pretty much fell into his dream job this summer tells me, as if everything else already didn't, that we were keeping each other from all the things we're meant to have. I'm not trying to beat on myself, but that's a pie that gets split in half.

Things begin and end in their own seasons. A smart person pays attention, and knows when to let go. I will remember this, for next time, and not be so gosh-darned insistent on having my own way, for my own limited reasons.

*sighs*

Later, a night journey. Thought it would be both fun and practical to start a commonplace book, given that am always seeing and hearing and reading random things that surprise and delight me. So, as the light faded, walked to the heart of town and took my sweet time picking out a notebook worthy of my randomness. It is, of course, red leather, with a small heart inscribed on its cover. Manages to be both understated and vivid at the same time; a good choice.

Moodled over magazines while I was there, too. Am fascinated by magazines, with their monthly promise of progress and improvement. Dawdled mostly in the artsy-craftsy section, but fuzzled over the writing magazines, as well. Being published is less important to me these days than actually having something worthwhile to say. And since I can do that on tha innerneps, it's kind of nice to let one more thing go.

Have you noticed how, at dusk, the sky is a different color every night? It's always a gorgeous blue, but never the same blue. Today blue, and yesterday blue, and tomorrow blue. 4/24 blue was duchess-ballgown blue. If you looked at it carefully, you could imagine the lady, stealing into the room where the gentlemen play cards, quietly, but with the unavoidable rustle that betrays a woman's habits. Merry eyes, a generous smile, a cascade of dark curls. She steals to the card table and puts her hands over the eyes of the one she loves best, causing him to drop his cards and flush a most attractive shade of red-pepper indignation that is part frustration, part desire.

Clearly this meant I should lie on the front lawn and stargaze. So I did. I think my neighbors find me odd.

*twinkle twinkle*

Today's poem = amusing.

This book = intriguing. Interview w. author, followed by excerpt.