KASF update

Mar. 1st, 2010 11:30 pm
guenievre: (Default)

Projects: 2 done, 2 half done, 1 nebulous.
Docs: 2 done, 2 half done, 1 even more nebulous than the associated project.


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guenievre: (Default)

A quote from the book I'm currently reading, which is otherwise fabulous...
"Virtually everyone writing on _Le Ménagier_ has accepted its author as who he claims to be [...] But it is more useful to consider him as an "author" with an authorial persona, the "narrator", who has a "literary" plan for his work. In so doing we avoid the trap of accepting the literary as *literal*. "

Quotes are the author's, not mine. I mean, yes, I see their point about being critical examiner's of ones source and the biases thereof, but "trap" seems a bit ... Melodramatic.

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guenievre: (coffee)

So a fairly standard Sunday morning, at least in the absence of SCA events or other complicating factors, is to go get breakfast at a nearby place and then do the grocery shopping, as both of us hate grocery shopping neither is willing to do it alone, and breakfast makes it a bit better.
That said, a key point of this plan is that breakfast be nearby - if one was, for instance, to drive to Elmo's (either one) it'd be really easy to blow off the grocery shopping by the time you get back. There are a plethora of places nearby, so that's not really a hardship - I'm typing this from Benetis, a cute little diner, for instance.
But... There's a flaw in the plan. There are no biscuits. The only place I know of with biscuits in a 5 mile radius is Bojangles. I'm in NC. Shouldn't this be impossible?

guenievre: (Default)

This is the part where most of you with more morning-oriented jobs laugh at me, but I just had to say it. Anyway, about to get dressed and head to site, though am dithering over travelling on garb or not.

I'm surprisingly calm - guess I'm ready as I'll ever be. Though I probably should have done a better job memorizing my oath...

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guenievre: (vodka gods)

Ok, I realize I'm more, um, sensitive to these things than most people. But, WTF? WHY do random tv shows insist on having people throw up.. ON FRICKIN' CAMERA?!?!!!!
I mean, True Blood, ok, fine, it's sort of horror-esque, goo is sort of the order of the day. But random projectile-ick on The Sopranos? How is that necessary?!? And Secret Diary of a Call Girl?!??? That's not precisely what one expects, now is it? (No, no, it wasn't like that, some guy's wife found out he went to an escort and that was her reaction. Out of all the possible choices in the world...)
Jeez, just because you have the technology doesn't mean it's appropriate. And really, it's Never Appropriate.

OK, rant over, before I repeat myself more...

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guenievre: (Default)

Though[livejournal.com profile] soucyn points out it's more like a French dinner. But I digress.

Every so often, Papa Spids brings us things that aren't vegetables. Like garlic and dill chevre from Black River Farmstead. Which is really lovely on wheat toast.

It's even better with last night's tarte tatin, which I didn't make out of some desire to make American apple poe for the election, but because I had a lot of random apples filling up the fruit drawer.

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guenievre: (Default)

So as I mentioned a few times, we've been eating better since the move... But what's weird is that I actually chose to make salad this evening. Pretty though, no?

(What's even cooler is that my stove has reaaly great lighting for food - that was taken on the iphone, which so has a not great camera...)

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guenievre: (Home)

... since you looked at me. Or maybe longer given how often I post. Either way it's been a week living here, plus or minus a few hours, and I figure I should post about how the house is. Of course, we're only marginally moved in, though living with a lot of my "stuff" a street over is kind of interesting. Haven't missed it much, maybe I'd be better at voluntary simplicity than I ever thought. 'Course, part of the reason I don't seem to miss my stuff is that there's a bizarre, or at least unexpected sense of contentment that seems to spring from the whole owning-a-house thing. Which is silly, really - at this point in the mortgage we no more own this place than you do really, but still. Maybe it's just the sense of permanence. Or maybe it's the hot tub, or the fact that with the new kitchen, even pre-remodel, I'm enjoying cooking again and we're eating better than we have in ages. (As a side note, organic local veggies delivered to your house are a lovely thing). Maybe it's the new bed, which has me sleeping like a baby and not waking up with my back in a knot. Heck, maybe it's just that everyhing that HAS gotten moved is organized. Whatever it is, the new house makes me dreadfully happy.

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