unknownfate

Today's fic was a Strange Magic.

My usual summer baking impulses are flaring up hard. Something about a vacation where I'm near the kitchen all day makes me think I could recreate the food in the Ghibli films, or Jake's Adventure Time sandwich, or all those Harry Potter House-themed cocktails.

In other news, I'm growing pumpkins and milkweed.

Fic of the Day is a Beetlejuice one and it's grimmer than usual. But it fits the prompt.

We went to Farmer's Day today. It was so hot that I was a little delirious by the time the parade was over. I ended up giggling with my Dad over Office Space quotes until the waitress brought our food. The theme for this year was "Farmers are Outstanding in Their Field". Some people were disdainful, but I love me a bad pun and cackled unbecomingly.

My summer vacation will never be longer than it is right now. Woo! So to celebrate, I wrote a Mad Max fic for 31_days.

I’ve been thinking about stuff from my childhood all day. Does anyone remember Robotman and Friends? Our local movie rental had a copy when I was a kid and I still remember some of the songs. I remember that it was pretty sappy-happy. It was all power of love and music to recharge these weirdly cuddly robots from Robotland. There was an 80s-style flamboyant old man and his grandson or nephew. And I’m pretty sure there was some of the old Transformer voice actors in there somewhere.

I’ve also been thinking about Brandon Lee in The Crow and how sad that really was. Childhood nostalgia meets teenage nostalgia!

And then out of nowhere, all I could think of is what happened to my old Kenny Loggins Return to Pooh Corner cd and nothing would do until I ransack the house to find it. I don’t think I’m going to be very productive tonight.

I had a little clump of something skin cancer-y on my shoulder so they decided to take it out. I was all gung-ho and unconcerned until the doctor started drawing all the places she was going to cut. It was like Duck Dodgers mapping the way to Planet X. Turns out, if you're going to cut a chunk out of your shoulder, you have make a gigantic oval around it to be able to stretch the skin back together. So my dime-sized little spot that I figured would take like three stitches to close actually needed twenty. I don't know how many internal stitches there were, but they ran out of gauze halfway through and had to lean out the door and call for more. Lot of blood going on.

What do people with serious injuries do? This is just a little minor surgery and it's driving me crazy! There's no way to sit or stand or lay down that it doesn't hurt. I can barely sleep. I want to claw or gnaw at it just to make it worse so it will be different. GRAHHH! Heal faster, already!

I’m in the gross, mouth-breathing stage of a head cold. I’m also incredibly grateful for that, because the bug that’s going around work is an explosive stomach virus. The nurse’s office ran out of spare pants for the kids. So, while I’m feeling a lot like one of the close ups from Ren & Stimpy, at least I’m not in a shivering ball of intestinal distress in the bathroom.

Also, I wrote a Beetlejuice fic for 31_days.

Also, also I get to do the prompts for March!

I try not to bother people. I really do. But, every now and then someone will post a rhetorical question or sigh about something they're worried about, and I will go off like a pinball machine because "Ooh! Oooh! I know this! I know what to say!

Knowing when to stop saying it is the hard part. I never leave anyone wanting more because I pile it on like an avalanche at the first sign of interest. It's like I have to make up for my dignified silence by blathering on like an idiot as soon as I get a chance.

So, sorry to everyone who mentioned something casually and then got bombarded with everything I ever knew about the subject.

When I was two or three, maybe four, we lived in a farm out in the sticks. It was a rent-to-own deal and my folks decided after two years that they couldn’t afford the payments and trying to keep the place warm, so we moved.

Many years later, my mother is a member of the local DAR and she was doing some research on a local man who made good and did amazing things and she finds out that old farm we lived in was his family’s house! She’s writing this guy’s biography, so she thought how great it would be to get a picture of the place.

The people that bought it after we left though? They aren’t so friendly. They outright refused any request to get a picture of the place. When the man’s family asked if they could come see it again, they would not stand for it and let it be known that they had guns and dobermans and the works if anyone should trespass. They also have yellow NO TRESPASSING signs every few feet around the perimeter of the property.

Mom was determined though. And she soon learned that a family that goes to our church owns the adjoining property and they were more than happy to let us trample over it to get close enough to get a picture. They’ve had troubles with the neighbors too and were sympathetic. So we snuck up to the fence and got a new pics of the house.

Here’s the strange part: The farm house isn’t lived in anymore. The new people built a modern cabin-type house on the hill behind it. As far as we can tell, the old house is empty. The paint is peeling and the wrap around porch may not be there much longer, but as soon as Mom took a picture of it, the porch light started to turn on and off.

Beetlejuice ficlet over 31_days.

I have constructed what I believe to be the best combination of bed linens EVER. I have my comfy-smooth sage green sheets. Always a pleasure. I have my Tigey blanket, the fuzzy leopard print blanket I’ve had since I was 2 and couldn’t tell the difference between a leopard and a tiger. I have my down duvet, which was bought ridiculously cheap at a summer sale. I have the fleece blanket my sister made me that has has all the yellow chicks on. Somehow, the chick pattern makes it even more soft and fuzzy. On top of all that, I have the HUGE secondhand comforter that my parents gave me when it didn’t match ANYTHING. It still doesn’t, and it’s a size too big for my bed which means it covers everything.

It’s perfect. The weight of the blankets is so comfy and cozy and secure. The temperature is just low enough that it is a delight to lay under all these blankets. And since I’m a restless sleeper who unfailingly tangles up in the blankets every night, there is a different, equally wonderful texture at each layer. It goes from smooth to fuzzy, to quilted, to fleecy, to cushiony. It’s bliss.

The hard part will be getting out of it in the morning. Anybody else enjoy their blankets this much?