it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken
matociquala

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simon blackburn's formula needs four pieces of information.

Birthday party for ctwriter and webwyrm at the netcurmudgeon/ashacat household last night, and a good time was had by all (except #2 Godson, who is colicky, and #1 Godson, who is (a) 2 and (b) adjusting to a new baby brother). It was an intimate gathering of about ten. I can tell we're old: I brought a bottle of red wine and ctwriter brought a bottle of champagne, and we finished neither. Nor did we eat all the pizza, and the cake only went because several people threw themselves on the last few unexploded pieces. Also saw taichigeek and spouse, kriz1818 and spouse and spawn, and The Jeff. 

Alas!

I was a remarkably good bear, and with the exception of a glass of wine (which is marginal: the grape juice part is okay, though the alcohol is technically off limits) I stuck to The Discipline. Of course, I was rewarded this morning with a half-pound weight gain anyway. Apparently all it takes is the mere presence of refined carbs. *g*

I brought my spinning and finished the last of the teal merino--although I have half a bobbin left to ply once I wind it into a ball, since I did not divide it up well. Next I get to try the alpaca, which matches the Giant Ridiculous Dog.

Jonathan Strahan informs me that Eclipse 3 has won the Aurealis award for Best Anthology. Congrats, Jonathan, and my co-contributors.

This morning, another scene on The Unicorn Evils, which is, I think, quite finished. While I was out partying last night, coffeeem did yeoman's work on making the awful bits even awfuller and the poignant bits more poignant, and in the process opened up an opportunity for another spot of denouement, which I dove on the way my friends dove on that ice cream cake. So I am tentatively declaring that a revised draft, and await the screaming hordes response of the copyeditors.

Then, after I exercised the dog and made tea, I had a major plot piece of Grail fall into my head while buttering bread. That was exceedingly satisfying, and I am making notes on it now. Then, back to staring at walls.

Today I have a lunch date. Around that, I will be working. I really need to find a couple of days to crawl into my hole and not see anybody next week. Sadly, it's looking like those days will be Thursday and Friday.

Temperature this morning was 23 degrees; tea is pueh erh vanilla; teacup is the yellow rimmed one with the pink roses and yellow sunflowers.

Really glad today is a rest day. My hip still hurts from overdoing yoga three days in a row.

And now, back to the coal mines. Here, have a puppy break. They're a week old and figuring out what their flippers are for:

Tags: awards, finger-pricking in five-four-three, quotidiana, tea, the daily commute, the writer at work, tiny ridiculous dogs
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