LJ has fallen by the wayside the past few weeks, I'm sorry. I've tried to write this post at least four times. We're celebrating Mother's birthday today, which means I've had enough wine and fireplace gazing to be sleepy and feel like posting. So I'm throwing together all the drafts I have laying around, into one giant catch-up post.
Carina invited a bunch of us along to the Lord of the Rings marathon at Colosseum. From 24:00 Friday, the three movies back to back, with half an hour's break in-between. The book was one of my first true loves of literature. I read if the first time the summer before I turned ten, and I remember being spectacularly spoiled by my uncle:
'How far in are you?' he asked.
'They're going through Moria now.'
'Have they met the Balrog yet?'
'What's a Balrog?'
I think I skipped most of the songs at my uncle and parent's behest. And I rediscovered them this summer. Re-reading books is not really something I do, it steals time from other books. Though I've rehashed some novels for university, and Disgrace on my own. Before I read Tolkien I sped through the Goosebumps series, Nancy Drew, loved and knew Narnia by heart, had no more Roald Dahl to read, and was spectacularly sick of anything 'young adult'. I re-read it this summer, and found that ten-year cycles is ideal: you forget enough to enjoy it. This time I even appreciated the appendices.
The marathon was exhausting and fun. 10 hours in a cinema chair makes for creative sitting: there were legs and arms everywhere, even on the stairs. We were armed with three breakfasts, fruit salad, chocolate, and coffee. People clapped randomly: whenever Aragorn appeared, when someone delivered an internet-famous one liner ('they're taking the hobbits to Isengard!'), we quoted 'Sagan om de Bannlysta' (a ridiculous Swedish voice-over of the films), when Boromir died, and we giggled through most of The Battle of Helm's Deep.
We cooked like mad for the annual birthday party (we celebrated 40 years between us this year). I've discovered that I love it, and am not bad at following good directions. Equip me with a good cookbook and I can create food. Two days' cooking culminated in a smorgasbord of nine dishes, not including desserts. I was so full of food I didn't know what to do with myself. It was all I could do not to topple in my ridiculous shoes (I wore the Ysl cage sandals). Though it may be the wine's fault.
And then actual birthday. Lovely day: Anette meeting me with two chai lattes in her hands – our favourite, from the tiny hole in the wall near her flat. Kristine met us, Anette left us. Kristine brought me a small cardboard box with a white bow. It contained a 'coffeeteapot' necklace. A small brass tea-/coffee pot with a pearl in the middle. I love it! (I'll take a picture of it with something better than Photo Booth later.)
It's now wintry enough that it smelt of frost when we left for the marathon on Friday. We tried to pin it down, rather than just call it 'frost'. It is a combination of snow, the sheets of ice on the asphalt, there is an aim of rotten leaves. We couldn't pinpoint it more than that, it just smells of frost. The always-scientific Kristine thinks it is the minerals in the water that smells. Double-distilled water has no noticeable smell, so she might well be right. But it does kill the mystique, doesn't it?
Father called from an Apple Store in Montreal, wondering if he ought to buy an iPad. I hadn't slept for a day, and just yelled that 'if you want one, just buy the damn thing!' So now we're thinking of ways he can use it. I secretly root for him not finding a use for it, so I can steal it. Bye, boring commute! You may pretend to be surprised that I've fallen head over heels for another Apple product.
Carina invited a bunch of us along to the Lord of the Rings marathon at Colosseum. From 24:00 Friday, the three movies back to back, with half an hour's break in-between. The book was one of my first true loves of literature. I read if the first time the summer before I turned ten, and I remember being spectacularly spoiled by my uncle:
'How far in are you?' he asked.
'They're going through Moria now.'
'Have they met the Balrog yet?'
'What's a Balrog?'
I think I skipped most of the songs at my uncle and parent's behest. And I rediscovered them this summer. Re-reading books is not really something I do, it steals time from other books. Though I've rehashed some novels for university, and Disgrace on my own. Before I read Tolkien I sped through the Goosebumps series, Nancy Drew, loved and knew Narnia by heart, had no more Roald Dahl to read, and was spectacularly sick of anything 'young adult'. I re-read it this summer, and found that ten-year cycles is ideal: you forget enough to enjoy it. This time I even appreciated the appendices.
The marathon was exhausting and fun. 10 hours in a cinema chair makes for creative sitting: there were legs and arms everywhere, even on the stairs. We were armed with three breakfasts, fruit salad, chocolate, and coffee. People clapped randomly: whenever Aragorn appeared, when someone delivered an internet-famous one liner ('they're taking the hobbits to Isengard!'), we quoted 'Sagan om de Bannlysta' (a ridiculous Swedish voice-over of the films), when Boromir died, and we giggled through most of The Battle of Helm's Deep.
We cooked like mad for the annual birthday party (we celebrated 40 years between us this year). I've discovered that I love it, and am not bad at following good directions. Equip me with a good cookbook and I can create food. Two days' cooking culminated in a smorgasbord of nine dishes, not including desserts. I was so full of food I didn't know what to do with myself. It was all I could do not to topple in my ridiculous shoes (I wore the Ysl cage sandals). Though it may be the wine's fault.
And then actual birthday. Lovely day: Anette meeting me with two chai lattes in her hands – our favourite, from the tiny hole in the wall near her flat. Kristine met us, Anette left us. Kristine brought me a small cardboard box with a white bow. It contained a 'coffeeteapot' necklace. A small brass tea-/coffee pot with a pearl in the middle. I love it! (I'll take a picture of it with something better than Photo Booth later.)
It's now wintry enough that it smelt of frost when we left for the marathon on Friday. We tried to pin it down, rather than just call it 'frost'. It is a combination of snow, the sheets of ice on the asphalt, there is an aim of rotten leaves. We couldn't pinpoint it more than that, it just smells of frost. The always-scientific Kristine thinks it is the minerals in the water that smells. Double-distilled water has no noticeable smell, so she might well be right. But it does kill the mystique, doesn't it?
Father called from an Apple Store in Montreal, wondering if he ought to buy an iPad. I hadn't slept for a day, and just yelled that 'if you want one, just buy the damn thing!' So now we're thinking of ways he can use it. I secretly root for him not finding a use for it, so I can steal it. Bye, boring commute! You may pretend to be surprised that I've fallen head over heels for another Apple product.