bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (ribbons)
So, I was reading through parts of the Fall 2009 UU World over dinner, when I came across this:

From misc


See the guy in the upper LH corner? He has a degree in physics and worked in banking before becoming a UU minister.

More to the point: "Live long and prosper" at our national assembly. Glee!

(On a side note: my church now has an "Over 30 Gaming Group." How cool is that? If it weren't for the need for sleep... *wistful*)
bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (Andy/Roger hug)
(...and anyone else who just likes to look at handsome men who like to hug each other)

(1) [If you're reading this on Dreamwidth or IJ:] *points to icon* That's Roger Federer and Andy Roddick after this year's Wimbledon final. (Larger image here.)

(2) The Armada, aka the Spanish boys. They are exuberant. (Scroll down past the Czech guy playing charades.)

(3) Like, really exuberant. Even before they clinch anything.

(4) Hurt/comfort personified. (DelPo and Pico after Argentina lost.)

(5) Federer and Nadal. I don't even have to link to anything - just type their names into Yahoo or Google image search to view hugs and handclasps galore. (And what's even better, they are both reportedly giggle-prone goofballs when you get them off-court. Their marketers are doing their darnedest (with very mixed results) to make more of Rafa's hotness and Roger's sophistication, but the word that keeps showing up in my circles is "adorkable." :-)
bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (snapletoe)
Per el meme:
how this works )

Additional note: If you're inclined to indulge me on any of these, feel free to use any of my names on the gift tag (*grin*). If you need my address (for this, or for cards, or for some random something some other less crazy season, heh), please e-mail bronze.ribbons at gee mail.

(1) a share of a sheep. Seriously. The Beautiful Young Man kept laughing at me while we were in Scotland because I was gleefully chirping "sheep!" whenever some came into view, which was about every five minutes.

(2) read something I've rec'd. Tell the author/artist you liked it, and drop an extra note to me to let me know that you enjoyed it. That will give me very warm fuzzies indeed. :-)

(3) read Youka Nitta's Haru wo Daiteita / Embracing Love (scanlations available to members of the LJ comm) or Sanami Matoh's FAKE (many inexpensive copies available via Abebooks, eBay, Amazon, etc.). I want larger audiences for the fics I can't help writing! ;-)

(4) volunteer for two hours at your local cancer society, hospice, humane society, or library.

(5) something inspired by something I've written, be it my fics, my original stuff, my sermons -- a drabble, a drawble, meta, earrings -- whatever floats your making-fun-stuff boat. :-)

(6/7) something from my Amazon or BPAL wishlists.

You know, 7 is a good number. I think I'll stop there. I would be thrilled by any of these! *blows very sparkly kisses at all y'all, flutters off to own wrappings and schemings*
bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (santa pig)
To borrow Gramarye1971's articulation, I'm among those feeling like "December 2008 crept up behind them and coshed them on the back of the head," but much of it's my own darn fault, and the stuff that isn't can't be helped, so I will restock on dried squid tomorrow and brew buckets of tea all month, and all will eventually be well.

Plus, it seems churlish to wax anxious or fretful about anything when there's so much well with me already:

  • The new issue of flashquake is up, and it includes two of my poems: "The Sharpshooter Assembles A Relish Tray" and "A Stack of Cards."


  • I just got back from a week in the United Kingdom, where I got to meet up with [insanejournal.com profile] aunty_marion at the Islington Slug and Lettuce, poked around Bletchley Park (which is in Buckinghamshire, and yes, there may eventually be TDiR fic from this), and meandered around Glasgow and Belfast with my sweetie. (And as with every trip, there were more people we would have liked to see than time to see them in, but we hope to be back (and for a longer holiday) in a couple of years...)


  • "Cthulhu" -- the BPAL scent, that is -- came to the rescue on our train ride from London to Glasgow, since I hadn't adequately anticipated the reek vs. sleep factor (i.e., sharing a very enclosed cabin after a long day sans showers).


  • Lots of anecdotal notes to self on differences between US and UK customs (what is(n't) comped in hotel rooms, etc.) and general climate (Belfast: lots of short skirts and high heeled boots in spite of the cold) and other things, which may show up here later either in fic or general natterings. I'll save it for January or later, though, since it's not like any of you lack things to read right now, and many of you are in the same boat as I am re: Stuff That Must Be Written Before Solstice. (All together now: EEK!) (And, deep breath: EEE!) (Who knows when they'll get written, but the plots, they are like the innards of intricately carved chesspieces...)


  • In Glasgow, there's a major road called Sauchiehall Street (pronounced "suckyhall"). It translates to "Way of the Willows."


  • In Glasgow's Museum of Transport, there's a Ford Anglia on display. There's a white owl perched inside...


  • After the Beautiful Young Man heard about Marion's plan to copyedit Book 7, he said, "You know how some dude edited Star Wars and got rid of Jar-Jar? Someone needs to phantom-edit HP and ditch Dobby."


  • Cedar, every time I saw the Odeon Leicester Square sign, I thought of you.


  • One of Belfast's most fashionable clothing stores (in the new, uber-fashionable Victoria Square complex) is called Remus Uomo. I've been telling you all for years that the shabby clothes were a front...


  • Cannot get "Together in Electric Dreams" out of my head. This is primarily from a late-night drink at the Stiff Kitten, where the DJ was playing what both the BYM and I think of as "80s comfort music" - which was all the more entertaining because two local, not-too-drunk lads periodically kept trying out breakdancing moves, with no one else in the bar paying them any mind. (We also stopped by the Morning Star, another pub where several tables of older people kept bursting into song. Some of it wasn't bad, but the multiple attempts at "New York, New York" were rather dire, and in spite of ordering a drink that came with its own plastic oar, I was not near tipsy enough to encourage them directly.)


  • There's more, but I need to tidy up and grab a quick bite before a meeting. Later, loves! *blows kisses and wafts warm studying/shopping/surviving/sketching/snoozing vibes at all y'all*
    bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (witch)
    (1) There is currently a lovely, well-displayed origami exhibit at Toronto International Airport. Some of the fabulous creatures (a phoenix made out of twelve sheets of paper, for instance) made me think of you lot:

    From UK 2008


    more photos under the cut, click images to enlarge )
    (2) Bilingual in-flight magazine + gate announcements = pretty cool

    (3) There's an echo-ey sculpture here called Titled Spheres. I couldn't resist a couple of "A-roo"s while walking through. *sheepish*

    Now to go back to throttling JJ working on the fic-chapter I had hoped to wrap up last night. Damn those characters and their hidden depths! ;-)
    bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (spiral notebooks)
    My poor eighth-grade Spanish teacher: I had a massive, extended crush on him, and the way I showed it was to besiege him with extracurricular efforts at translation (the better to spend more time with him, you see...). There's quite a, um, variety in the bag I just found in the back of my old bedroom closet - a commencement lecture by Alan Alda, a paragraph from A Canticle for Leibowitz, the entirety of an exceedingly sappy Christmas story about three French students helping out an old musician, verses from "Ode to Joy" and Mendelsohn's Christus, Archibald MacLeish's "Know the world by heart..."

    *cringes*

    The guy should have gotten hazard pay.

    Especially since he also gamely perused and corrected these:



    En el día de los muertos, cuando el año muere también,
    Debe el más joven abrir las colinas más viejas
    Por la puerta de los aves, dónde quiebra la brisa.
    Ahí fuego volará del chico-cuervo,
    Y de los ojos grises que ven el viento,
    Y la luz tendrá la arpa de oro.

    Por el lago agradable los dormido que duermon.
    En el camina de Cadvan dónde los cernículos llaman
    Sin embargo sombras ceñudos del rey gris caen,
    Cantando aun la arpa áurea guiará
    Para quilares el sueño y mardarles calbagar.

    Quando la luz de la Tierra Perdida volverá,
    Seis de los dormidos calbagarán,
    Seis amuletos brillarán,
    Y dónde el árbol del plano verano crere muy alto
    Por la espada del dragonte la Obscuridad caerá.

    Las montañas están cantando, y la dama viene.

    # # #


    Soy las entrañas de todos los refugiós
    Soy la hoguera en todas las colinas
    Soy la reina de todas las colmenas
    Soy el escudo de todas las cabezas
    Soy la tumba de todas las esperanzas
    ¡Soy Eirias!
    bronze_ribbons: snapshot of me in standing bow (eggplant/carrot OTP)
    I just fried a stack of bread. Because rereading an RPS fic (IN A FANDOM I DON'T EVEN FOLLOW) made me realize that's what I wanted for supper.

    (Tonight's culinary revelation: French toast goes really well with goat cheese. And I also made three liters of soup (using half a head of Napa cabbage) that turned out far better than I'd expected.)

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