ozarque has posted about this holiday season and included a link to a previous list of her recipes, filk songs, poems, etc. for the holidays.

( under the cut for length )
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Part 22 will be posted tomorrow, because I want to make sure Part 23 will work out before I post today's section. Sorry everyone!

One of the things that goes with eldering is that everything you do -- even things you've been doing for so many years that you could practically do them in your sleep -- starts taking much longer to do than it ever has before. It's frustrating, and infuriating, and you keep thinking that if you'd just put your mind to it you could do things faster .... but you learn that that's false.

The reason I'm bringing this up isn't because I think it will come as a revelation to any of you. I'm bringing it up because starting tomorrow I'm going to be up to my eyebrows in getting ready for Christmas. Putting up the Christmas tree. Trimming the Christmas tree. Writing and addressing the Christmas cards and Christmas checks. Making the fruitcake. Making the handcrafted presents. Wrapping the presents. Putting the local presents under the tree, and getting the nonlocal ones off in the mail in time. Cleaning the house. Doing the last-minute Christmas shopping. Making the grocery list for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Cooking the Christmas dinner. Fixing the Christmas Eve buffet. And the most important task of all: Writing the To Do lists, where all of these things get scheduled, and without which I would be helpless.

Usually we don't put up the Christmas tree until December 1st, but this year -- because George has discovered that everything he does takes him much longer now -- he has decided to get started early, and will be putting up the tree tomorrow instead. I won't be trimming it tomorrow, because tomorrow is my day off, but I will hit the ground running [slowly] on Monday.

Everything has side effects, and a side effect of all this is that I'm not going to have much time for posting here at Live Journal. I wanted to let you know. In preparation for that, here are URLs for some of my Christmas posts from years past:

Photo of our 2007 Christmas tree -- at http://ozarque.livejournal.com/476923.html .

Compiled list of Christmas links -- to holiday filksongs, holiday recipes [including that fruitcake], holiday poems, and posts about the handcrafted Christmas gifts I make -- at http://ozarque.livejournal.com/561560.html .

A few days ago I linked my image for the 2009 conbook cover, which I'll put here again:


MFF Conbook Cover 2009

(The building in that picture is the black one here, the name of which I do not know. That is one of the pictures I used as a reference for the key card image, though.)

And then I got to thinking and looked up the conbook cover I did for 2003, when I was Guest of Honor the first time:


MFF Conbook Cover 2003: Alysha Resplendent

I'm not a huge fan of cities, but for some reason, Chicago with its strong Art Deco influence says something to me, and whenever I draw anything related to Chicago or MFF that influence rises to the surface. Perhaps New York would inspire the same impulse; I've only seen New York briefly but what I did see was intense.

Anyway, we went downtown on Saturday evening to have dinner, and it was like... magic, I guess. Just as unbelievable to me as those storybooks full of snow and white Christmases, a glittering downtown full of people at night, with horse-drawn carriages in bumper-to-bridle traffic with cabs and stretch SUVs.



I have a sense now for why Georgia O'keeffe could spend so much time painting flowers and canyons... and then turn around and paint buildings and street lamps. I itch to do the same.


Stardancer Home.

Crockpot Chicken Soup

Three chicken drumsticks.
Carrots.
Potatoes.
Onions.
Mushrooms.
A can of Campbell's Cream of Chicken.
Soup stock.

1. Dice the carrots, potatoes, mushrooms and onions into cubes.
2. Clean the chicken drumsticks. Remove excess fat and skin. Marinate with salt or soy.
3. Place all ingredients into the crockpot, making sure that the soup covers the chicken.
4. Cook for at least 3 to 4 hours. Stir occasionally.

Serve with hot rice or bread.

I mean I have this neat idea for a fantasy world for a chick who's like a servant girl in a total fucking fuck house brothel thing...

And it's going to sell where? Sweet fuck no one would buy that.

A Basketful Of Figs.

I wrote this in the middle of the year. Bringing it up again.

Both made me weepy. :)

The original from 'The Snowman'.

Nightwish's cover. (With scenes from LOTR)

I stayed home and worked on holiday projects. This incuded ...

* Putting the first coat of wood sealant onto a large fly-through bird feeder. I actually got this last year with some Midwinter money, but by then the weather was too bad to work on it outside. This summer I sanded it, but never got around to sealing it. So I'm doing that now. I'm going to hang this in a tree on the south side of our house. That will help give the birds a bit of a fly-around for when the cats are staking out the hopper feeder on the east side, which is just outside the kitchen window.

* Dumping the old potpourri out of a glass globe, removing the dead string of miniature holiday lights, and replacing both with fresh supplies. So now it lights again, and smells spicy.

* Wrapping the first batch of presents. I still need to find a place to store them, though. I usually make a pile of presents somewhere, once they're wrapped.

1, i just ate half a pumpkin pie, bringing me to like a pie and a half since yesterday evening. fuck yeah, pie

2. i totally clusterfucked thanksgiving, by telling one group of people I would be there at some semblance of an actual time, with food and PIE, and then hanging out at a whole different shindig until waaaaaay late, and bringing mac salad after everyone was stuffed. still, they were glad for more pie at that point, as they had been just about to pie up, and we brought the blender and supplies for sneaky fruity bourbon drinks of doom.

3 celebration the first was chock full of kids for my kids to hang out with, and old friends up to my ass, and my friends grown ass children, and babbehs for me to snuggle, it was good.

4 celebration 2 was slightly less full, and involved fewer people we knew since forever, but they are just as good of friends, and I am continually amazed that people I knew before they were even born are now like, full grown interesting people who apparently WERE DRINKING BOURBON and my bigkid learned how to play Bullshit.

also, at like 11 my husband turned into a grumpy ass pumpkin and had to go home, because he had to work at ass oclock.

5, adam lambert

originally posted at http://maevele.dreamwidth.org/212788.html comment here or there comments

Hob dodged three sets of feet, two shopping carts, and one stroller, and collared the gremlin in one large, brown hand. Black Friday should be called Black and Blue Friday, if you asked him. Not that anyone did, of course.

The gremlin started screaming, and he stuffed the critter’s mouth with a discarded advertising flyer. Then he borrowed the cashier’s ‘Puter Power tape (designed to mark boxes that had been paid for if they were too large to stick in a bag) and quickly secured the creature’s hands, feet, tail and mouth, then handed it to one of the temp brownies to dispose of.

The temp brownie was still wearing shreds of Circuit City tape. “You better make sure that the manager here leaves enough milk and cookies tonight!” it grumbled. “Or else.”

“What?” Hob spotted another gremlin, working to squeeze it’s way into the cash register, grabbed it and taped it too, then had to jump out of the way as the cashier, a chubby teenager with pimples and just enough facial hair to make him look untidy, reached for the roll of tape.

“We don’t get our pay, these gremlins will be back.” The temp stated the obvious. And it wouldn’t be only the temporary hires releasing them into the store. There was a reason Circuit City went out of business.

Hob shoved the second gremlin at him. “Get these two out of here and get yourself back in here pronto, or your association with ‘Puter Power will be ended before you can get paid—or take rightful retribution, either one.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” The words were disrespectful, but the temp brownie winked out of sight, and then back in time to grab the next gremlin before Hob could get to it. Pickings had been thin since the Circuit City managers had slacked off on the midnight milk and cookies custom.

But the temp had a point. The gremlins were just as hungry as the brownies, and as a result this Black Friday had been one of the worst in memory.

He looked around for the manager. The poor man was trying to help a woman with a crabby baby—ah, he could help with that. A moment’s magic made the store smell a bit fresher, and changed the baby’s cries to smiles. The brownie tossed the used diaper to make a face at him, but shoved it in to the plastic bag it was carrying, then took several more trussed gremlins from other workers and shoved them in with the smelly thing, tying it shut and vanishing to dispose of all of it.

Hob leapt to the manager’s shoulder and whispered, “milk and cookies, milk and cookies” but the man paid him no attention. He turned to the next customer in line. And the next, and the next, while Hob scrambled to keep the temps working, trap gremlins before they could do too much mischief, and do whatever general trouble-shooting he could do in between.

The manager was still at the customer service desk a half-hour after closing, looking harried and exhausted despite all Hob and the other brownies could do. he rushed the other human employees out as quickly as he could, then went to grab his own coat.

The brownies gathered around, watching his every move, and Hob whispered in his ear again. He headed toward the small refrigerator, and his cell phone rang.

Two of the temporary hires started to pale at the edges, and Hob leapt to them, putting them hand-in-hand with two of his steadiest regulars. Another temporary worker had snuck up to the small refrigerator, and had a jug of milk out, was getting ready to pour it into the bowl.

This one he cuffed roundly. “It doesn’t count if a human doesn’t set it out, fool!”

The manager snapped his phone closed and headed for the back door. Hob had only a moment to act, and the man just wasn’t listening to him. He ran and grabbed—not the milk, it wouldn’t do for the man to spill it—but the empty bowl, and set it in front of the man’s foot.

Bang—clatter! The bowl went skittering across the floor.

“Oh, knew I was forgetting something.” The man bent to pick up the bowl, set out the milk and cookies, adding a half-box of doughnuts and a handful of hard candies. “Everyone worked hard today.”

The brownies hopped up and down, rubbing their tummies. He was barely out the door when they fell upon their rightful pay.
____________________________________

For new friends, you can find more of my very short stories here and my ongoing, serialized novel, Fireborn, here.

And to all my friends, I hope your Friday-After-Thanksgiving (whatever you choose to call it) was less hectic than Hob's!

I was delighted by this news, courtesy of ladyqkat. This may help reduce corporate interest and restore voter influence.

Lobbyists pushed off federal advisory panels
New White House initiative to curb influence could affect thousands
WASHINGTON - Hundreds, if not thousands, of lobbyists are likely to be ejected from federal advisory panels as part of a little-noticed initiative by the Obama administration to curb K Street's influence in Washington, according to White House officials and lobbying experts.

So close, yet so far away.

I'm tired, and it's 11pm, and it's been a long day, and the David was there for me hitting 49000+ words, so YAY! I'm within spitting distance of the goal line, and that's wonderful. So, tomorrow I should hit ~51K, and thus be a WINNAH. Two whole days early. Woohoo!

Today was a bit stressful, thanks to some interpersonal drama going on in ye olde offline life, which has led to no fishing trip for me tomorrow. Which sucks, but eh. I'm not up for standing for 2 hours tomorrow, and there will be fishing trips in the future.

Anyway. The Wordcount! :D

49221 / 50000 words. 98% done!

Whereabouts would I go to find a bunch of used paintbrushes with wooden handles? They can be ruined for all that I care, I really only need the handles. Any suggestions? What do you all do with your paintbrushes once you can't use them anymore?

I have this idea, see, but I only have a couple to practice on, and I need more. :)

No one on ebay seems to be selling used paintbrushes, of course.


This is what I plan to do with them. :)