lenora_rose: (Default)
Life has been busy. Joseph just turned three, in the course of which we've taken the crib out of his room and apart, because he really didn't want to switch to the twin bed. (We're months from needing even the bassinet, and I suspect a bit longer before we move on to using the crib again and making Joseph share his room with Sibling. But I still want him well past trying to crawl in with Sibling.)

Speaking of which, we don't get to be more specific about the baby to come. The ultrasound was beyond inconclusive as far as gender goes; the baby was turned the wrong way and had its legs folded in front. (They got clear views of everything else, which looked normal and confirmed it's exactly the age we thought it was.) Ah, well, we just need two conversations about baby names then. I have already vetoed Derek Eric Yorikk Patrick.

There's another family crisis happening, alas: Colin's aunt has pancreatic cancer, which hits fast. On the one hand, this meant we got extra visits from his father and sister and even some of his cousins. While those visits were focused on aunt L., they did take time to see us and visit (My father-in-law and sister-in-law both stayed part time at our house; the cousins only came for dinner, with their two kids near Joseph's age. A fact which pleased him greatly.) which made it a sort of a silver lining. On the other hand, it's also had the opposite effect on my mother in law's long-since-planned visit to see us and Joseph in the vicinity of his birthday, in that she's also been taking some days over there. Colin and I (and JoJo) were dealing with colds which mostly meant not wanting to infect an elderly and ill lady, we're not only due to visit, once everybody else has gone, we're likely going to be among the few left who can see her as regularly (She has a goodly passel of friends, as well as family, though.) Her sister lives in Steinbach, and while she's been staying over in the city a lot, it's a hard job for an 80-some year old.

(And within 2 days of learning about that, I learned that one of my own Uncles - not much seen as an adult but a notable influence on my childhood - had a fatal heart attack. It's not the same as it might be if it were a relation I see several times a year, and not one far off in Northern Alberta, but it made a sad time sadder)

And of course, my hips decided to give me a crisis moment over the last weekend, when I was having trouble crossing a room. All muscle spasm stuff, not worse, but the heavy-duty relaxants they normally prescribe are contraindicated for pregnant women (The normal ones are, too). They've eased some since, and a physio has given me some useful stretches assuming I keep being good and doing them.

And I realise all this makes it sound like it's been more of a downer lately than it has been. And really, it hasn't (I suspect things with Aunt L. will get much more real much closer to the end, and after.) I mostly feel good, at least when I get sleep. Speaking of which....

(I had a pile of writing related thinkies I decided warranted their own post.)

lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
Unhappy first. Colin apparently fell today while working and is in Misericordia getting his elbow checked. The pre-hospital guess, it sounds like, is that it's *not* broken. But better to be sure.

Of course, this is more than one kind of bad news. I mean, I think it would suck enough that he's hurt himself - whatever way it turns out he's done so.

But of course, we were supposed to be emptying the cupboards on the back wall of the kitchen so we can remove said wall, along with the electrical work Colin was doing (And cleaning the kitchen is one place I can actually help...). The electrical inspector is due Friday unless we call to change the appointment.

I want him to come home with good news...
_______

The happy is much more personal. I was blathering on not long about about both wanting to force some structure on this last part of the damn book so it wasn't all hobbits soldiers walking. AND that I was looking at a dearth of female characters. But of course I couldn't change another soldier to female because of course, the lack of people of the opposite sex is a plot point.

Except it isn't, quite. A lack of people Ketan would desire to have sex with is. And in fact, it's mentioned that there's at least one female around who's the right age and not physically, mentally or emotionally repulsive that just isn't right for him.

There's also a soldier for whom he develops a strong brotherly feeling (Ketan adopts siblings. Sort of like I occasionally have, or Branwen. This would be the third, at least that he acknowledges as the same. I think it's the fourth, but I'm the writer.) A soldier who's in a kind of odd limbo since, as a wizard, he doesn't quite fit traditional rank structure, and as the son of one of the lieutenants, he's kind of treated slightly differently (Not better or worse, but differentiated...)

And suddenly, looking at him, flipping his gender... makes sense of a whole lot of things. Like how and why this particular group is unique in having a female Sergeant. And really, being female doesn't suddenly make this character any more suited to wanting or having sexual relations with Ketan. See again - brotherly feeling. And, as an aside, I HATE how every time someone in TV or many books professes brotherly/sisterly feelings, it turns out at least half the duo does have unrequited romantic feeling. It would be nice to show adopted siblings who feel as I've always felt about mine - pretty consistently not interested, even on those occasions I've seen them look particularly aesthetically pleasing/kick-ass/sexy.

Anyhow, I tried it on yesterday, and yes, she already has her own way of speaking, and it's kind of fun to write her.
lenora_rose: At Tara in this fateful hour, I call on all heaven with its power... (At this Fateful Hour)
Rule # 1 of internet passwords: No matter how weird or complicated my password is, how many random capital or numbers or other things are in them, it is almost invariably my username (Lenorarose or Lenora_rose) that I typo.

Another interview today. went so so. I know that I missed a rather important detail in one of the events she asked me about, and fumbled a bit with words. better than the last one, though.

Until this week, I've been working on a project that kind of bemuses me. See, I've said that I don't generally like stories set in some kind of post-apocalyptic world. I dislike some of the tropes. (The people who degenerate into violent crazies out for themselves is a major one. The usually unrealistic speed at which knowledge is lost; such that people who were around before the apocalypse sometimes seem to have forgotten what they knew. That incredibly common books, never mind movies or recorded music, become rare and prized -- pace coffeeem.)

But that project is set in a fantasy world after an apocalypse. Since it also includes three people visiting from 21st century Canada, I jokingly described it as Narnia meets Mad Max (a description the funnier for being pretty much totally wrong when it comes to the spirit of both those series'.)

Thing is, that description did point me to one thing.

I think I'm writing this because I didn't like at all what Lewis did with A Last Battle. (Well, besides Neil Gaiman's very correct point that as a novel, it's strangely and not very well structured). I can only sum it up as, "That's not how you break a world."

See, one trope about the post-apocalyptic things that I do appreciate is this; there's always something left. And from that, the seed for some form of new world.

Lewis wiped out Narnia. Completely.

And there are so many different things in this that are wrong besides just the fact that it ended.

First, and foremost, the entirety of Narnia seems to have existed so as to teach a sum total of eight earth children enough to get seven of them to heaven. (Susan has been discusssed enough elsewhere.) Once those seven children are all dead, the world simply goes away.

Yes, we see the people of that world brought into heaven (Or swallowed by Aslan's shadow), too. How nice. But the world ended when the last of those children ran through the door into heaven.

This, I couldn't even.

Until I realised that most of the stories about people from our world going to other worlds have the person who goes turn out to be special in some way. Not to the extend that the world begins and ends with them, but it's there.

Tuathea is in my head. All of it. It's fiction. it can't be as important as the real world. But so are the three Earth people who travel to it (especially as their world is the one I call Damina-Earth, which is ours with a few small variations). And they AREN'T any more special than the people they meet there. That world didn't exist up to that point to teach them anything. And when they're all dead, it will keep going. I admit, my trio were technically hand-picked as useful to the survivors. But useful is not the same as irreplaceably special. because I didn't want it to be that story.

(One of my other stories is about a world that will cease to exist when the inventor leaves. It's kind of nasty, especially to other people sucked into it.)

The next big issue I had is the lack of grief in the Last Battle. The end of the world is a bright new morning for the characters.

Because there's an afterlife, which is like all the good things in Narnia without the bad. And everyone was happy with this. The Pevensies, killed horribly in a train crash. The Narnians who stood by and watched the stars come down and the last light fade.

Which, okay, worked for the perspective from which he was telling it; the people who'd already passed through the door. Who weren't inside Narnia. But.

Imagine you were one of the beings watching it from within Narnia. On the side where the stars are falling. Think what you'd be thinking, even if you were one of the righteous who'd reappear on the other side of the door, whole and hale and with a whole bright and happy world ahead. Think about watching your world come apart, collapse into ruin, all for the actions of one selfish ape.

Even if you trust God to take you to paradise, when your own world ends, you mourn. You feel sorrow for what was left behind. For the people who fall around you.

Nobody in the Last Battle grieves. Oh, they grieve the horses shot down when they're still in Narnia, or the dryads cut off at the roots. But as soon as they cross over, the grief just stops. It's no longer bad news at all that they lost a battle for the very soul of their country, or that there's been a train accident on Earth (In fact, little or no mention is made of the people they left behind until the very end, when they're waving across a gulf between Earth (or rather Earth's heaven) and Narnia's heaven, and so are clearly also dead). the world they knew ends, and they don't feel any sorrow for it. Just a kind of wonder. The stars falling, and the things coming through the door in the end are described without much sorrow.

Nobody cries out and clings, or begs the world to survive. Nobody fights tooth and nail against entropy. There's no time, and no chance.

The description of the world ending is fast - a chapter - going from a fading bonfire to flat water (nothing as alive as an ocean) in a short span. But because of all the things that happen, I always, even as a kid, figured that was compressed time; that they stood there watching the days and years spin by like a time-lapse camera. That it wouldn't be that fast on the other side.

On one hand, once I was old enough to grasp just what was missing there, I wanted that story, too, in addition to the one on the other side of the door. Of the complete fall of the whole of the world. what it looked like from inside. of the grief.

I also wanted, as a child especially, but also even now, for it not to end. Just because things don't really end. Lives end. Civilizations end. Species end. LIFE dos not. Not until the heat death of the universe.

There have been any number of cataclysms and near apocalypses in human history. And yet we keep on. And we fight entropy. Even those who believe in heaven, who feel heaven is real and that suffering here is a shadow, are, as often as not, also working for a better world here (though since details as to what makes a better world have differed wildly, and occasionally included committing atrocities to get there, they've failed at least as often as succeeded). For the hungry fed, the poor clothed and sheltered, the family happy, the life satisfied.

We keep on keeping on. Good and bad.

Teresa Nielsen Hayden wrote an essay once on disliking apocalyptic fiction because she always felt that she wouldn't be one of the heroes, the rough rugged survivors, or even the barely clinging on. She'd be one of the ones in the mass graves, ashes in the crater where once there was a city. There's some truth to that, too; if we had an apocalypse, I am not a likely long-term survivor.

But I'd want to try. I'd want to gather those I cared for around, and try to grow food, and try to work together, and protect each other. To keep the flame of knowledge and some semblance of the rights and responsibilities of a society.

Now, I know this story is going to follow the trope of apocalypse stories to the end I prefer, the point at which things are restored to at least some degree. Because one thing I feel that I am trying to do with my fiction is offer light not always available in the real world.

But also because I resist everything that the Last Battle taught me about the end of the world. The world isn't here for me. The world is worth mourning even if followed by heaven. The world is worth fighting for, not passively watching from elsewhere as it dies.

(Also this is far from the only thing the story is about. One of the questions the story seems to be exploring is how, if ever, a person - or being - who commits an appalling act can be counted redeemed. Including and especially by his victims. Also lots of nifty odd plot thingies - a lot of what I've been writing so far has a certain amount of "coping with language and translation". OH, and yes, I seem to have wandered onto another project for this week, ebcause I couldn't get one scene out of my head without writing it. but I think I'll be back to the apocalyptic thing.)
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
I wonder sometimes.

I wonder how it is that even people near and dear to me can doubt we're not only capable, but well on the way to breaking the planet.

I wonder how it is that I can even consider the idea of bringing a child into this world. If there's world enough in the next few decades.

I don't wonder why i write the stories I do. because God, if magic existed, if Finno were real, he'd sure as hell have found some power that could do the trick, and thrown himself and everything he could offer at its feet, and saved the Gulf and Nigeria. And he doesn't live in those places; the people who do would have mustered enough power for it. In Damina-Earth, not this earth, things would have been done to curtail the damage we've been doing all along to our atmosphere. It wouldn't happen all the time, or all at once, very often, because most people can barely muster the interest to work past their circle of dear friends very often at all (Finno certainly doesn't. And most of the time, he has every right not to; one cannot weep for the entire world. One must choose.) But for oil rain and a vast stream like blood pouring out of the ocean? That's too big to ignore.

(And true, the consequence of that sort of outpouring of magic means it wouldn't be quite so blinking obvious that the people in charge are irresponsible sociopaths driven by shareholder and legal demands that force them to behave like even less responsible sociopaths. Because the consequences would be quietly erased, the doomsayers who prove to be speaking truth would seem to be overstating. But you know what? I'd be okay with letting a few people who deserve hanging Not Hang, and a few people who deserve praise be shrugged aside even worse than they are here, where they're proven right, if it meant the rest of the world didn't have to hang with them.)

And I wonder why I'm feeling down this week, when personal things are mostly holding steady or even looking better.

The Ark came to Ararat
Touched the mountaintop
Noah took a rain check
Saw the rain had stopped

Waste and Desolation
Silent as can be
Noah sent a raven
to see what he could see.

"Raven, fly like a black flag unfurled
What did you find going up and down the world?"

"Oil," said the raven. "Oil is what I found
Oil in the water, leaking like a wound
Shining like a rainbow
Like a rainbow drowned."

(John Jones, Ian Telfer, Alan Prosser)
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
I wonder sometimes.

I wonder how it is that even people near and dear to me can doubt we're not only capable, but well on the way to breaking the planet.

I wonder how it is that I can even consider the idea of bringing a child into this world. If there's world enough in the next few decades.

I don't wonder why i write the stories I do. because God, if magic existed, if Finno were real, he'd sure as hell have found some power that could do the trick, and thrown himself and everything he could offer at its feet, and saved the Gulf and Nigeria. And he doesn't live in those places; the people who do would have mustered enough power for it. In Damina-Earth, not this earth, things would have been done to curtail the damage we've been doing all along to our atmosphere. It wouldn't happen all the time, or all at once, very often, because most people can barely muster the interest to work past their circle of dear friends very often at all (Finno certainly doesn't. And most of the time, he has every right not to; one cannot weep for the entire world. One must choose.) But for oil rain and a vast stream like blood pouring out of the ocean? That's too big to ignore.

(And true, the consequence of that sort of outpouring of magic means it wouldn't be quite so blinking obvious that the people in charge are irresponsible sociopaths driven by shareholder and legal demands that force them to behave like even less responsible sociopaths. Because the consequences would be quietly erased, the doomsayers who prove to be speaking truth would seem to be overstating. But you know what? I'd be okay with letting a few people who deserve hanging Not Hang, and a few people who deserve praise be shrugged aside even worse than they are here, where they're proven right, if it meant the rest of the world didn't have to hang with them.)

And I wonder why I'm feeling down this week, when personal things are mostly holding steady or even looking better.

The Ark came to Ararat
Touched the mountaintop
Noah took a rain check
Saw the rain had stopped

Waste and Desolation
Silent as can be
Noah sent a raven
to see what he could see.

"Raven, fly like a black flag unfurled
What did you find going up and down the world?"

"Oil," said the raven. "Oil is what I found
Oil in the water, leaking like a wound
Shining like a rainbow
Like a rainbow drowned."

(John Jones, Ian Telfer, Alan Prosser)
lenora_rose: (Labyrinth)
Based on reports circulating through the Green Man Staff and other SF fandom, Diana Wynne Jones, who successfully fought off one bout of cancer seven years ago, has chosen to stop chemotherapy on the current one, which isn't responding. The estimate is that she has months to live.

She's also said she plans to finish the current book and knows what the next one will be.

But still.

Dammit.
lenora_rose: (Labyrinth)
Based on reports circulating through the Green Man Staff and other SF fandom, Diana Wynne Jones, who successfully fought off one bout of cancer seven years ago, has chosen to stop chemotherapy on the current one, which isn't responding. The estimate is that she has months to live.

She's also said she plans to finish the current book and knows what the next one will be.

But still.

Dammit.

Home Safe

Jun. 6th, 2010 03:30 pm
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
So at 11:00 last night, when we got home, i wandered once more round the block - still no sign.

At 1:30-1:45 or so, I was going to bed, and decided to make one last look outside the doors.

Irina was crouched on the front step.

However, when I flung the bolts back and threw the door open, calling her name, she bolted. I cursed myself for enthusiasm, laid out food, wandered around the yard & the next door neighbour's yard a bit to see if I could find her hiding spot, then went back in to keep watch out the front door at the bowl of food I'd left out. When I realised the neighbours on the other side had guests who were now outside smoking, and the human presence would scare her back from that door, I started watching out the windows. After a time, I spotted her in the side yard, and managed to get out the back door without terrifying her, and crept closer and closer by bits until i could pick her up.

From the way she was meowing, she wanted badly to go in, but was still freaked. She wasn't altogether happy with being picked up and lugged (She always hates being picked up) but once inside, she tore upstairs (Her 'comfortable' area) before venturing down again, and checking out Élise and the renovations, and - finally! - going for the food dish.

All in all, it took until almost 2:30 to get her home & inside.

She slept on my legs all night and all morning, except for feeding time.

She seems to be none the worse for wear - a bit skinnier, but then, she was a bit plump. Her fur is fine, no mats or burrs or ticks, no sign of fleas, no scratches or signs of fighting other cats, and now she's been in a while, she doesn't seem to be feeling stressed or high-strung anymore.

Home Safe

Jun. 6th, 2010 03:30 pm
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
So at 11:00 last night, when we got home, i wandered once more round the block - still no sign.

At 1:30-1:45 or so, I was going to bed, and decided to make one last look outside the doors.

Irina was crouched on the front step.

However, when I flung the bolts back and threw the door open, calling her name, she bolted. I cursed myself for enthusiasm, laid out food, wandered around the yard & the next door neighbour's yard a bit to see if I could find her hiding spot, then went back in to keep watch out the front door at the bowl of food I'd left out. When I realised the neighbours on the other side had guests who were now outside smoking, and the human presence would scare her back from that door, I started watching out the windows. After a time, I spotted her in the side yard, and managed to get out the back door without terrifying her, and crept closer and closer by bits until i could pick her up.

From the way she was meowing, she wanted badly to go in, but was still freaked. She wasn't altogether happy with being picked up and lugged (She always hates being picked up) but once inside, she tore upstairs (Her 'comfortable' area) before venturing down again, and checking out Élise and the renovations, and - finally! - going for the food dish.

All in all, it took until almost 2:30 to get her home & inside.

She slept on my legs all night and all morning, except for feeding time.

She seems to be none the worse for wear - a bit skinnier, but then, she was a bit plump. Her fur is fine, no mats or burrs or ticks, no sign of fleas, no scratches or signs of fighting other cats, and now she's been in a while, she doesn't seem to be feeling stressed or high-strung anymore.
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
On Monday evening, my mother-in-law's cat disappeared from their RV; she was on our porch, painting, and she left the RV door open so he could get some air if he wanted. He tends to stay in place, and he's timid, and he's never left their yard at home, much less our yard here. So having him run off would seem mostly out of character. The strongest current theory is that someone saw him meowing to get in, and decided to shelter him, but she's put up signs around the neighbourhood and knocked on doors, and nobody fessed up.

Now Irina's vanished. My m-i-l saw her after supper, eating in the kitchen with Élise. After I came home from dance practice, I didn't see her at all. Of course, I didn't really twig until breakfast-time, as while Irina usually sleep son my legs, she's had nights enough where she's chosen not to that it isn't a warning sign in itself

We thought she might have been locked in the basement again. Or managed to get herself sealed in the attic when Colin set the trap and close it up. The latter has been pretty much disproved, and the basement door was left open often enough through today that she should have had a chance to emerge, even if she was doing her hide-in-a-corner routine for Hours. Also, two people within the block think they saw a cat of her description outside.

This worries me because Irina isn't an outdoor cat, either, much mroe than my m-i-l's cat is.. She goes outside for a maximum of five minutes at a time, and any loud noise sends her back to our door. She's friendlier to people and less timid overall than he, but she's also been rather badly shaken up by all the noises and chaos of renovations, and I'm afraid she'll be backsliding into timidity.

And before you ask, the Humane Society, D'Arcy Animal Rescue Centre, and both Pembina Emergency and McLeod Vet have their descriptions. And I put it on petlynx, the online site the Humane Society most recommends. I've checked kijiji for pet-related notices. And my M-i-l put a classified ad in the paper and lost cat signs for hers. It seems too early to do that for Irina.

I have to sleep, because I slept like crap last night before this came up, and worse after. I intend to make one last check out the doors, though I don't expect a change.

Be well, you two, wherever you are. Come home soon.

ETA: AS mentioned in the comments, my m-i-l's cat reappeared, only a bit hungry for wear.
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
On Monday evening, my mother-in-law's cat disappeared from their RV; she was on our porch, painting, and she left the RV door open so he could get some air if he wanted. He tends to stay in place, and he's timid, and he's never left their yard at home, much less our yard here. So having him run off would seem mostly out of character. The strongest current theory is that someone saw him meowing to get in, and decided to shelter him, but she's put up signs around the neighbourhood and knocked on doors, and nobody fessed up.

Now Irina's vanished. My m-i-l saw her after supper, eating in the kitchen with Élise. After I came home from dance practice, I didn't see her at all. Of course, I didn't really twig until breakfast-time, as while Irina usually sleep son my legs, she's had nights enough where she's chosen not to that it isn't a warning sign in itself

We thought she might have been locked in the basement again. Or managed to get herself sealed in the attic when Colin set the trap and close it up. The latter has been pretty much disproved, and the basement door was left open often enough through today that she should have had a chance to emerge, even if she was doing her hide-in-a-corner routine for Hours. Also, two people within the block think they saw a cat of her description outside.

This worries me because Irina isn't an outdoor cat, either, much mroe than my m-i-l's cat is.. She goes outside for a maximum of five minutes at a time, and any loud noise sends her back to our door. She's friendlier to people and less timid overall than he, but she's also been rather badly shaken up by all the noises and chaos of renovations, and I'm afraid she'll be backsliding into timidity.

And before you ask, the Humane Society, D'Arcy Animal Rescue Centre, and both Pembina Emergency and McLeod Vet have their descriptions. And I put it on petlynx, the online site the Humane Society most recommends. I've checked kijiji for pet-related notices. And my M-i-l put a classified ad in the paper and lost cat signs for hers. It seems too early to do that for Irina.

I have to sleep, because I slept like crap last night before this came up, and worse after. I intend to make one last check out the doors, though I don't expect a change.

Be well, you two, wherever you are. Come home soon.

ETA: AS mentioned in the comments, my m-i-l's cat reappeared, only a bit hungry for wear.
lenora_rose: (Default)
Sucky thing happened today; I was in exactly the right place and time to totally fail both to prevent a crime, and to be anything like a useful witness.

I'd stopped by a 7-11 for a drink (as I'd walked up Pembina; not counting the two shopping stops, it was probably an hour and a half). As i was leaving, two older teen boys (very late high school or early college age) swooped past me from behind, *way* too fast, on bicycles. I thought it was kind of offensive, hitting racing speeds before you even leave the lot, and nearly crashing into someone without warning her, but stepped aside for the second as a reasonably polite person would do, with only the mildest urge to clothesline them.

Right after, a boy's voice yelped "The bikes!" and two boys of about 10 took off running past me.

And sure enough, the teenagers were vanishing up an alley on stolen bicycles. One of the two boys threw down his Slurpee in sheer frustration, then they both ran after, which i was sure was futile, though I'd have probably done the same.

I actually walked to the alley entrance to watch the kids running in a totally futile manner; then went back into the 7-11 to see if they had any kind of outside video surveillance (they do), and to let them know why I asked.

Heading back up Pembina, I saw the two boys a block ahead of me, and started to jog to catch up, when they turned around up the next side street, back towards the alley. So I followed.

When I got there, they were talking to a middle-aged woman, and one of the boys had his bike - with a badly bent back tire and ruined brakes. One of the teens had either been barrelling along too fast and got nicked by a car, or slammed into something trying to avoid being nicked by a car. The woman had come out to see if he was okay, which he said he was (Then limped across Pembina and up yet another side street, and even he was moving fast enough that by the time we heard this, there wasn't any use following.) She'd picked up the bike he'd left behind. (I looked at it, and I'm no bike mechanic, but the body looked sound, and the gear array was still intact and unmarked, so I could reassure the kid that it could probably be fixed.)

The other kid , apparently, had got his bike just this last month. He kept his back turned to us all most of the time, and said nothing; when i did see his face, he had shed a few tears, but was more obviously working very hard at suppressing more. The woman sounded pretty sure that it would be thrown aside by the thief, not kept; neither boy's parents were home (Which now I think about it, should mean at least one of the boys was 12, not 10, though, this incident aside, that neighbourhood is likely safe enough it didn't matter if the parents were pushing it), but they were expected within the hour, so she told them to get their parents to drive them around the neighbourhood; but both of us encouraged them to report it to the police, if only because, with video footage, there was a chance the perps might be identified. Since I saw the back of a pair of heads, one hooded and one dark-haired, and the woman could only say they looked like some kind of Asians (She came very close to saying something about "those Asians", which would have got her seriously snapped at by me; not least because the boy who was trying to to cry was Chinese, and didn't need that shit on top of this loss.)

The rest of my day was actually rather good. Part of me feels guilty about that, which is remarkably stupid. (Traded in some of my ridiculous pile of trade-in books. Watched the first of the new Who; already, in one episode, vastly better than The End of Time. Then again, almost anything would be better than the End of Time. Though really, he has to stop picking up pretty girls for companions.)
lenora_rose: (Default)
Sucky thing happened today; I was in exactly the right place and time to totally fail both to prevent a crime, and to be anything like a useful witness.

I'd stopped by a 7-11 for a drink (as I'd walked up Pembina; not counting the two shopping stops, it was probably an hour and a half). As i was leaving, two older teen boys (very late high school or early college age) swooped past me from behind, *way* too fast, on bicycles. I thought it was kind of offensive, hitting racing speeds before you even leave the lot, and nearly crashing into someone without warning her, but stepped aside for the second as a reasonably polite person would do, with only the mildest urge to clothesline them.

Right after, a boy's voice yelped "The bikes!" and two boys of about 10 took off running past me.

And sure enough, the teenagers were vanishing up an alley on stolen bicycles. One of the two boys threw down his Slurpee in sheer frustration, then they both ran after, which i was sure was futile, though I'd have probably done the same.

I actually walked to the alley entrance to watch the kids running in a totally futile manner; then went back into the 7-11 to see if they had any kind of outside video surveillance (they do), and to let them know why I asked.

Heading back up Pembina, I saw the two boys a block ahead of me, and started to jog to catch up, when they turned around up the next side street, back towards the alley. So I followed.

When I got there, they were talking to a middle-aged woman, and one of the boys had his bike - with a badly bent back tire and ruined brakes. One of the teens had either been barrelling along too fast and got nicked by a car, or slammed into something trying to avoid being nicked by a car. The woman had come out to see if he was okay, which he said he was (Then limped across Pembina and up yet another side street, and even he was moving fast enough that by the time we heard this, there wasn't any use following.) She'd picked up the bike he'd left behind. (I looked at it, and I'm no bike mechanic, but the body looked sound, and the gear array was still intact and unmarked, so I could reassure the kid that it could probably be fixed.)

The other kid , apparently, had got his bike just this last month. He kept his back turned to us all most of the time, and said nothing; when i did see his face, he had shed a few tears, but was more obviously working very hard at suppressing more. The woman sounded pretty sure that it would be thrown aside by the thief, not kept; neither boy's parents were home (Which now I think about it, should mean at least one of the boys was 12, not 10, though, this incident aside, that neighbourhood is likely safe enough it didn't matter if the parents were pushing it), but they were expected within the hour, so she told them to get their parents to drive them around the neighbourhood; but both of us encouraged them to report it to the police, if only because, with video footage, there was a chance the perps might be identified. Since I saw the back of a pair of heads, one hooded and one dark-haired, and the woman could only say they looked like some kind of Asians (She came very close to saying something about "those Asians", which would have got her seriously snapped at by me; not least because the boy who was trying to to cry was Chinese, and didn't need that shit on top of this loss.)

The rest of my day was actually rather good. Part of me feels guilty about that, which is remarkably stupid. (Traded in some of my ridiculous pile of trade-in books. Watched the first of the new Who; already, in one episode, vastly better than The End of Time. Then again, almost anything would be better than the End of Time. Though really, he has to stop picking up pretty girls for companions.)
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
Mom and I were having a conversation earlier this week where she mentioned how much it drove her mad that I would have all kinds of problems to cope with - and I'd be way too busy worrying about someone else's hurt to do anything about mine. Or to notice I had any hurt, in some cases.

I think I don't EVER want that to change.


But you know what? I still wish my friends didn't hurt.
lenora_rose: (Gryphon)
Mom and I were having a conversation earlier this week where she mentioned how much it drove her mad that I would have all kinds of problems to cope with - and I'd be way too busy worrying about someone else's hurt to do anything about mine. Or to notice I had any hurt, in some cases.

I think I don't EVER want that to change.


But you know what? I still wish my friends didn't hurt.
lenora_rose: (Labyrinth)
Good things happening recently:

- watched Ponyo tonight. I don't think Miyazaki has written such a purely cheerful childlike movie since My Neighbour Totoro. (And having listened to the Disney dub of the latter recently, I am SO missing the old Fox version). Lovely, happy, just what I needed.

- Colin took me to Gasthaus Gutenburgetrr for lunch today, then to the zoo. Neither of us has been in ages. I got to pet a young albino constrictor (Beautiful shades of rust reds with red eyes, white only on the belly, but missing the dark pigments that would normally colour it. It seemed to like me, or at least my body heat. (We'd been walking through the tropical house already and I hadn't taken off my coat at all, so i was plenty warm). Got to watch the macaques play like cats with an unfortunate mouse; felt sorry for the mouse, but it was hard not to cheer on the monkeys in full play. And trust me, five feet away? You really KNOW the tiger's a predator. Even the other big cats, even that close don't give nearly that impression of "this could eat me".

- Finished Sherwood Smith's A Stranger to Command (Which led promptly to me rereading Crown Duel.) Fabulous. It does end on a bit of a prequel note, meaning you can tell there's another story to come, but the relations between Vidanric/Shevraeth and his classmates and his friend from home are riveting.

- Finished and re-sent that rewrite request from last year. And I think I did improve the story hugely by listening to the feedback. (Of course, since I was asked to cut it by a third, I felt that it was a good follow-on to full edit mode on Bird of Dusk.

- I have the most amazing husband. And I only hope I'm being as good for him as he needs me to be, too, because he's being all too good.

- Listening to Lennie Gallant's newest English CD, and it's loverly.

- A couple of months before I finished Bird of Dusk, i found one more song that was just too utterly perfectly the song for Finno and Jen and their relationship, in a most expected place from a most unlikely artist.

- Work has continued to go well (Although i realise when i talk about it that i usually end up griping, I've also realized the frustrations of this particular job are usually ones I can work with.

- I convinced Colin to try Criminal Minds with me. he got hooked even faster than i did. Nice to know the multiple recommendations I had were worth heeding. (Although for various reasons, we haven't watched it the last few days.)

bad thing:

- I can't talk about this here.

- Part of me would like to. To record it fully. Another part is afraid even to explain to my friends and kin.

- There is at least one image that will probably be fodder for nightmares for a long time. And an echo of my own voice in my head, chanting "No no no no -"

- Worst fucking timing in the WORLD.

- Yeah, it kind of seems to overwhelm the good things. For a while. Then they win. Then it swamps them again. Then they fight back. The good things are small enough that clearly this isn't the end of the world.

- I hurt.

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