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Well, I've had a lovely birthday.

It was quiet and rained all day; this has not happened since my fifteenth. I woke far too early (sleep has not been particularly normal lately), and was too sleepy to get up and too awake to sleep, so listened to quiet music for several hours (Ólafur Arnalds, Linford Detweiler, Martha Tilston & the Woods) with a little calico kitten curled up at my side until the sun finally glimmered a little through the gauze of clouds and I sat up and fetched Anna's parcel and a knife. (And by "knife", I mean "this odd little metal thing that's pointy on one end and blunt and rounded on the other and is ostensibly for keeping one's nails tidy somehow only I have no idea how it works or what it even does so mostly it's used to peel wax off the desk".) I love packages that are all sorts of little wonderful things -- she sent elegant monogrammed notecards, and bath products from Lush (!!! one is up-waking and the other is sleep-inducing), and a dear little tin and quirky 1920s-y earrings and the most beautiful soft elegant knit shawl, which happened to go perfectly with the casual steampunk attire I celebrated my birthday in.


(the boots, which I bought for twelve dollars at Plato's Closet in Anchorage with Kyra,
have buckles on the sides, which apparently you can't see here. & yes, that's my yard; I'm at the right side of the house.)

(I am also still expecting a package from my grandparents and a small one from [profile] lady_moriel. I love packages!)

When at last I ventured downstairs, I discovered that my father had purchased my favourite Entenmann's coffee cake and some strawberries and left them at my place at the table. ♥ And Mum had already bought me bacon; so I had a delightful breakfast sitting on my trunk looking out the window and reading my pretty vintage paperback of Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water. The world flowed in a sweet, quiet, gentle pattern -- I never did picnic under the apple tree, because it was pouring rain, but I did get on my bicycle to fetch a baguette for my lunch (with sharp cheddar and more bacon), and sat on the back steps eating and reading The Perilous Gard.

There was quite a lot of quiet reading and consuming of delicious foodstuffs; Leandra and I danced around my bedroom to Rupa & the April Fishes, Benny Goodman, the Paper Raincoat, and Abigail Washburn; I streamed Penelope from Netflix (film: adorable; quality of stream: GHASTLY -- do you want to drive people to piracy, Netflix?; and James McAvoy = GUH. especially in a long stripey jacket. and a hat. and a lovely scarf. oh dear. I am quite sure I was simpering rather shamefully.), and later there was a thunderstorm, exactly what I ordered!; although the few -- very intense and lightingy -- bursts of thunder were gone fairly soon, there were torrents of rain and it was dark and weird outside so I took the iPod and our nicest umbrella and wandered about in my boots and ended up dancing on the sidewalk. Earlier, I sat cosily on the sofa and enjoyed being around people while Mum made me calzones for dinner, and a chocolate cake. At dinner, everyone sang, Dad and Timmy were sufficiently juvenile male persons and made weird noises; Leandra was patently adorable; Willowkitten tried to eat cake. The cake had M&Ms on top and there was ice cream with Junior Mints in, hurrah! (For the Tea there shall be a more elegant-looking cake with layers and fancy icing or something.)

 
 

(this is mostly to show off that I have a) purple streaks in my hair, and b) a completely fabulous
vintage bicycle pendant. the purple is purplier in person but I think I shall leave it in longer
next time and do some more visible stripes.)

Presents: Hockman's chocolates from Heidi; a wonderful set of blank cards + pen + envelopes + tiny notebook with adorable houndstooth patterns and vintage-fashion illustrations, all in a cloth-covered basket from Timmy; from Mum, the dearest knit owl pillow, a decorative thingummy saying "hope", and a pair of vintage postcards, one displaying the Public Library in Lynn, Massachusetts -- this was the town in which we lived in Massachusetts! I knew and loved that library! -- and the other showing the street down the block from here over a hundred years ago. The postmarks are dated 1909 and 1906, and they have mysterious notes to long-dead strangers and I love them. Dad's present was supposed to come yesterday, but managed somehow to get delivered to our old house a mile away; fortunately the Meholicks live there again instead of some strangers who mightn't know who to call. So it was delivered (along with Becca Meholick who had a playdate with Heidi) this evening, and I waited for Dad to come home from work to open it -- and was delightfully shocked to find that it was this magnificent comfortor set! My mother got me a lovely quilt a few birthdays ago, but then I got a larger bed, and it didn't fit; and it's started to get a little aged. I wanted something dramatic and quirky and sophisticated and me and had put this one up on my Kaboodle list as an example -- I love this kind of Victorian print -- but didn't think anyone would actually buy it for me. It's reversible, black-with-white on one side and white-with-black on the other, and trimmed in fuschia, and the pillow shams (also reversible) have little pink ball-tassle things on the ends and I love it. My entire bedroom looks magnificenter now.

I must thank you all for your wonderful well-wishing, especially [livejournal.com profile] wanderlight for the warm blanket, rainy window mix (I cannot stop listening to "Winter Song"; it is heart-achingly beautiful), and [livejournal.com profile] suangelita, who wrote me historical Slayer Buffy fic! You all are wondrous and I am blessed to know you.

(And now to bed! And now to bed!!)
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Tomorrow seems to be my birthday, oddly enough. I was hoping to discover something Fantastic to do as celebration -- last year I explored Pittsburgh and strange places full of bits of houses with Mrs Nielson, Victoria, and Hannah; the year before, when my birthday fell on Father's Day, Dad and I spent the afternoon at the Carnegie Museum of Art, also in Pittsburgh. The year before that was The Year From Hell and doesn't really count, although lots of nice things happened for part of it. My fifteenth birthday I remember as sort of weirdly magical for no particular reason; Kyra sent me albums by Eisley and October Project and I got Solas' then-latest from Dad, and wandered about barefoot in a long skirt in our wooded back-yard listening to them, and there was a splendid misty rain, and come to think of it I don't remember anything else that happened that day; just that it was quietly beautiful in all of the right simple ways. (Well, and then that weekend Dad and I drove to the nearest large town to spend the afternoon wandering around a large bookstore and having Starbucks and Panera and listening to music and having good conversation.) 

As the day has continued to approach and no brilliant ideas have come forth, I have decided to try to spend the day quietly and magically as I did for my fifteenth: reading, picnicking under the backyard apple tree, lighting candles, sitting in the book closet, perhaps putting candles into glass jars and hanging them on things if I can find any. I am also thinking a quiet tea in a week or two for those of my compatriots as still remain in this town. (If only you could all come! It would be marvellous! Of course this town isn't very marvellous, but we'd picnick, and I'd take you up to the hill, and we'd dance round the glade in a ring like fairies and sing old songs and watch the stars come out; and I'd bake you delicious things, and we'd go to Hockman's for delicious homemade sweets.)

Anyway, today I've been cleaning, because my bedroom likes to be clean on holidays, especially beginningsy ones like birthdays and new years. I've vacuumed and everything -- and when I say vacuumed I mean I also vacuumed my desk and the top of my dresser which were atrocious and have been for some time. Having my desk all tidy and my dresser actually look-at-able again is quite nice, I must say. Want to go hunt down some used tea cannisters to put my makeup things in, though (Mum says she sees them at Goodwill fairly often), and something to hang my necklaces on so I don't have to untangle them from a nasty snarl every few weeks.

Speaking of birthdays and of pretty things, yesterday there were parcels in the post from [livejournal.com profile] bornofstars and [livejournal.com profile] barefoottomboy! Miss Anna's parcel was already under STRICT INSTRUCTIONS not to be opened, so it is sitting on my bed taunting me, especially because Anna sends the most amazing things (for Christmas she knit me a Ravenclaw scarf, which goes to my ankles and is the most delightfully warm scarf ever). And taped inside of Ren's charming home-made card was the charmingest bird-and-birdcage necklace, which I am wearing just now. My f-list is marvellous, thank you!

I am currently ordering the weather for tomorrow: I'd like sunny and warm, but not humid, and later a bit of rain and wind, and a thunderstorm after about ten o'clock.
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Packing packing packing huzzah. We interrupt this mad frenzy to bring you Highlights From Merlefest, because two of my very favourite songs from Saturday night's Midnight Jam have cropped up on YouTube, making my evening. The Midnight Jam may have been the very best part of the festival (perhaps why festivalgoers must buy separate tickets for it, which Dad had done unbeknowst to me; I didn't find out till we were on the road to North Carolina!).

music behind the cut )

* * *


In other news, have been packing all day, except when, um, unwinding with Angel, and playing with the little Willowcat a lot, and fetching things from stores, like nibbles for the flight. Currently working on Dad's birthday present, which I will leave with someone trustworthy to give it to him on Saturday. Dad always makes this big fuss about nobody making a big fuss about his birthday, but I think secretly he really likes thoughtful presents. (Also his fuss about not making a fuss is sometimes almost bigger than fusses made about any family birthdays. Oh, Dad.) So, yes, I am making him free and awesome presents -- burning the Abigail Washburn & the Sparrow Quartet live set that I bought from iTunes (it counts as free because I bought it for me), and I have a fabulous Nickel Creek concert, thanks to the_stook, and I'm trying to decide if i want to make a CD of the Patty Griffin b-sides and rarities I have knocking about, or if I should just wait until I can get my hands on all three discs of the semi-official rarities collection, Love from My Lips (I found disc two!). These are some of our shared very favourite musicians, so it's a fun present on both sides.

And now I must go to Wal-Mart to fetch my Ritalin, and Martin's on the way back for a baguette. My laundry's clean, and OMGOAHSOGHDKHSHF TOMORROW I AM FLYING TO SEE KYRA I KEEP FORGETTING THIS IN THE FUSS.
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Right, so, what does it say about me that I have spent substantial periods of time figuring out how best to make a record player work by magic? -- Look, it really wouldn't be that difficult; isn't the main way a record player works is by rotating, and the needle scratching along the surface of the record? (I have not actually seen very many record players in action.) In that case, one would simply have to charm it to go round, yeah?

...Yeah.


In other news, a very happy (and somewhat belated even on this side of the world) birthday to [profile] ressie_noldo , who is v. spiffing. ♥
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This is one of my favourite poems that I've rediscovered recently. I love its stream-of-consciousness style and the beautiful language the poet employs, and the joy and discovery he finds in discovering what he didn't know he loved. Lovely, lovely poem.

i never knew i liked night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain )

Also, happy birthday to the lovely [livejournal.com profile] wanderlight! Here's to a good year for you! ♥

 

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Happy birthday to my mother, and a belated one to [profile] lexiedoh who's got some Lost-fic on the way. Eventually. Not until after Christmas, but then, I'm getting very nearly nothing done until after Christmas. 

Also, Book Seven's got a title, and I think I like it. (Seldom-used British words for the win!) And I have a skirt that looks like gingerbread and I made a fantastic load of chocolate cupcakes last night. Life is good. Also, I leave for my aunt's the day after tomorrow; thought you ought to know before I make my usual 'oh, yeah, by the by, I'm leaving in five minutes BUT THERE WILL BE INTERNET, OKAY' post.
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Happy twentieth birthday to

[profile] lady_moriel , my favouritest vampire! ♥ There is fic in the works (um, sort of), but...er...you know my track record with such things, and, um, hopefully you'll get it sometime before your twenty-first, anyway. Ack. Many happy returns & all that, although I have no idea what that return business is all about--perhaps that the birthday and Christmas gifts which you want to get rid of will still have the tags attached and receipts intact? 

Here is some music, mostly stuff I...promised to send you a really long time ago and never actually got around to sending, or stuff you asked for and I forgot to even respond, or stuff that is just nifty and you should totally have it. (Which is kind of a lot of categories for five tracks. Bear with me here. Oh, and anyone else is welcome to download these; I'm not forbidding you. They're just mainly for Kyra, is all.) 

Look Up - Stars
Black Horse and the Cherry Tree - KT Tunstall
Sincerely - Deb Talan
Psychobabble - Frou Frou
Spring - Richard Shindell



I am incredibly out of sorts just now; rather, I have been most of the week, and am Not Getting Anything Done, and life is pretty much general botheration just now, except the edges aren't really sharp enough for that. Agh. Which, yeah, you can see I haven't been posting anything: this is because I have no original thoughts in my head, or my mind is rife with cheap wangst.

 

 

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The main Other Thing is this: I am going to Maryland tomorrow. Er, today, rather, seeing as it is one in the morning. (I will sleep in the car.) Dad's got a preaching engagement at a church out there someplace, and the family's going along. He's one of five candidates, and we're not even sure we'll like the church yet, so don't go all-out. :) I think it is very encouraging to Dad to have something, at last, even if it turns out not to be something we'd go through with. He's been rather discouraged. 

I am to be on my best behaviour and not to wear any clothing that might frighten people. (Drat!) This means no stripey stockings, no experimental eye-makeup, no skirt-over-trousers, and no colours that clash. My wardrobe specialises in these things frequently. Ah well. I have a fluffy blouse that, except for the buttons on the front, looks very eighteenth-century dandy, and a Tuesdayish patchworky skirt, and a blue and green vest. Only moderately odd, but I can twirl in the skirt. ^-^ Oh, and I will be back Sunday evening, so you lot won't even miss me. 

Also--HAPPY BIRTHDAY

[profile] midenianscholar!! (Tell your parents that I have been trying to send them an email and it won't go through and I am terribly sorry.) Your presents will be a bit late, as I am Going Away, but, er, mwahaha. All the best to you, darling! (Aldon and Siarl wanted to get you the Black Plague.)

The cat keeps attempting to take up residence in the cupboard behind the canned foods, syrup, and peanut butter.

Anyway, about the poetry--we have this book which, for some reason, I have never perused, although when Mum brought it out this morning for our poetry reading the cover did look vaguely familiar. It is called Winter Poems, selected by Barbara Rogasky and illustrated (exquisitely!) by Trina Schart Hyman. I think it was put out as a children's book, but it really isn't--not that children can't enjoy it, but it's not...childish, you know. Also, it's got Wallace Stevens and Edna St. Vincent Millay and Carl Sandburg in it. Squee!! I ran across the following peom today and was absolutely entranced by its simplicity and sweetness.

 


I shall see you lot Sunday.
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[profile] ressie_noldo is fifteen today; and many happy returns and various other wishes and the like go out to her. (And e-chocolate cake. My real chocolate cake is very good; I hope you like the slightly glowy, inedible variety. ^-^ Otherwise, I also make a mean spice cake with caramel frosting.) 

And my Sirius-fic is turning out to be Exceeding Ambitious and therefore Nowhere Near Being Finished, so your present will be late, and possibly not all in one piece, especially as the plaid!trenchcoat bit seems to be coming in as Remus' point of view and therefore not compatable with the rest of the story at all. And I need to do some research about British television in 1975. But I do have that drabble you had me write yonks ago that I never actually, um, put anywhere. Because I didn't finish the others. But here it is. 
  
In other news, I am currently on a frantic quest to find the one-volume of A.A. Milne's works (including all of the Pooh books and his poetry) that Mum says we have, and our apparently-still-intact copy of Dodie Smith's The Hundred and One Dalmatians (you know, the real, witty, very British one, in which there is actually decent pathos & such). Bedim you, boxes. Bedim and confound you, I say! (And yes. I'm on a children's-lit kick. I'm re-reading Peter Pan and I have some E.L. Konigsberg and Inkheart and The Hobbit waiting for me. I am also re-reading The Lord of the Rings *fangirly squee*, but that doesn't count.)

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