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Slow Tuesday.
Hey Oscar Wilde! It's Clobberin' Time! doesn't really need an introduction. But just to be on the safe side, it's an absurdly-titled blog of different artists doing portraits and illustrations of famous authors, characters, and various scenes - everyone from Hunter S. Thompson and Jorge Luis Borges to Jane Austen and Dorothy Parker, Truman Capote and Holly Golightly, and Yossarian, Lady Macbeth and the Little Prince.
While my supervisor's gotten back from vacation, she wasn't able to see me today, which meant I went back to the house and got to doze off for a bit. I was able to manage productivity in the afternoon by reading about copyright law - it's dull, but transparent, and it's all online - plus a heavy gym visit and cooking the rest of the week's lunches.
Today's high point, though, was spending about ten minutes eating mulberries behind the ILS building on campus. The trees all over the city are getting ripe, and I need to get back there if only to take another picture of me literally caught red-handed.
I need to do a bit of writing on my copyright findings and also start my new Big Bang. In the meantime, how's everyone else tonight?
While my supervisor's gotten back from vacation, she wasn't able to see me today, which meant I went back to the house and got to doze off for a bit. I was able to manage productivity in the afternoon by reading about copyright law - it's dull, but transparent, and it's all online - plus a heavy gym visit and cooking the rest of the week's lunches.
Today's high point, though, was spending about ten minutes eating mulberries behind the ILS building on campus. The trees all over the city are getting ripe, and I need to get back there if only to take another picture of me literally caught red-handed.
I need to do a bit of writing on my copyright findings and also start my new Big Bang. In the meantime, how's everyone else tonight?
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How well do mulberries freeze?
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Although now that I think of it, I've never made pancakes, and berries go so well in those...
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The only reason I'd asked about freezing is because I had a very clear image of you with a bucket, gathering mulberries. :)
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(But in my family [and we often went to the woods to gather wild-growing blackberries and black raspberries, and my mom has a whole mess of red raspberry bushes] we almost always used 'pail' and 'bucket' interchangeably. When hunting wild-growing black raspberries, we'd use baling twine to tie a gallon-sized plastic ice-cream pail around our waists, so we could use both hands to pick. :)
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I did grow up with blackberry bushes outside my bedroom window, but it was always a race against the beetles - and they never needed to take time off go to school.
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I know! I know! My childhood was so deprived!!! *wails*
...ahem.
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One thing I'm going to be able to do that my parents weren't: I am going to get Z into swimming lessons so she's comfortable in the water FAR earlier than I was. *nods*
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And I don't want Z to feel that way about swimming. So we're going to do some Aqua-Tots swim lessons this summer. :)
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I got semi-private lessons with a few other kids from someone my parents knew who owned a big pool, and some general public ones in summer at one of the university's larger pools, and both of those had to be several times a week for at least a month. Outside of those, as a kid, my parents always took me and my brothers to local pools and made sure we packed our swimsuits if we went to places with water for swimming, no matter if it was a river or an ocean.
No one should feel that way about water - it should be something everyone should know how to be in. It's Talmudic Law that dictates parents should teach their children to swim, and I like to think it's not just a metaphor for navigating life. Water's just that important.
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I can understand how my parents really couldn't help the swimming thing--they did what they could, with the lessons every summer. But they had a farm, and six kids, so there wasn't really time or money enough to have enough experience in the water that I could really learn (and a couple weeks a year is nowhere near enough; I know that now).
But now that I enjoy swimming, and know more about how people learn to do such things, and we live in town with access to swimming lessons? It's become kind of a thing with me, that Z learn to swim. :)
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When I went out to one of Pittsburgh's reservoirs a few weeks ago and looked at that huge expanse of water, just sitting there all still, I had to stop myself from ditching my stuff and jumping in sneakers and all. The problem with grown-up adult pools is that they're just lanes without room for splashing around - although I should just take what I can get, being a student. It's been a long time since I've been in more water than a bathtub, and I should see about fixing that.
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I should check and see if the local parks have pools. I'm sure I can spare a few bucks for a one-time entrance fee.
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Drifting can be good. Do you have some general idea where you're going?
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... no.
*g* That's the easiest answer. The hard answer is that I have a scene fragment and a plotbunny, neither of which fit together at all and are definitely not in the same story, so I am pushing both of them to the back of my mind in order to just let them orbit in little circles until I can figure out if I can do anything with either of them.
And I am sleepy, which doesn't help a whole lot with the orbiting business.
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Also, I've found just scribbling words down on paper is a useful way for me to get some ideas to set themselves down - I know I'll be doing that later this week to get a better footing on what I'll be putting in and talking about.
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House is forced to choose which of Wilson's legs is shattered by some Very Bad Men. They keep asking left or right, and House doesn't know what they mean until they say they'll choose if he doesn't, and so he chooses and then has to watch as Wilson's leg is smashed.
The plotbunny:
Wilson ages in reverse. No known cause, no known cure.
:-)
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As for the scene, I haven't got much on that. But I've got some scenes swirling around that could stand to find homes...hm.
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The bunny ... I think it was sparked by watching the movie Big over the weekend. It's a terrific film, but this idea would end with the conceit carried to its logical conclusion -- Wilson de-ages to an infant.
I don't know what, if anything, will come of it. Probably nothing.
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And now I've gotten the image of House using the "he's my son" explanation - plenty of immortals use it - for why he's got this little kid with him.
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YES. Exactly.
But. I'm afraid it's all rather amorphous. I do not know if it will lend itself to my storytelling. :-)
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Oh, I don't know - there's that unpublished Symbiosis story where Wilson got possessed by an alien which was nicely ethereal.
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This conversation has made me very happy.
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The idea of House being jealous of Wilson wasn't something I'd seen before, since so much of the fandom loves to play on how magnificent House is, in one way or another and in varying levels of quality - and I've been toying with House's jealousy on and off for a while now, and it's always interesting to turn common conceptions around.
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And yeah, it idea of House being jealous like that, for that reason ... it was something new at the time and I'm glad I went there, even if it did make me a bit nervous.
Have to sign off now, but I wanted to say again that this has been a wonderful exchange. :-D
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I should go to bed myself. But first, a shower.