Jan. 29th, 2015

taennyn: (once sawmills and strawberry farms)
We got together last week (around my dad's 68th birthday) to let her trundle around in Whatcom County to contemplate eventual places to live.

The bed and breakfast was beautiful, but I regularly had to wander outside/stay near the deck windows to dowse successfully for wifi signal. That was not delightful.

I've been trying to sketch textiles and fine arts (and cussing a lot because fuck) across various fictional universes, which actually made me go track down La Bricoleuse, because she is hand-to-sky fascinating reading. I am in no way a MFA specialising in theater costuming and props, but damn I can admire the work put in.

My history of the Turks book skipped over the period I'm really interested in, unfortunately, but it is at least neat reading. We're onto Tamerlane, who is an experience.


In other news, M and I wound up discussing home improvement shows like Holmes on Homes in universes like the Deaths and this led to the idea of needing to taser a house to defuse the metal cache* hidden behind the plaster-and-lathe. Y'know. As you do.

*: "Okay, let's get this first layer off--oh shit. Is that live steel? %&#*, we're gonna have to call a specialist, that's live steel, okay, everybody back off--"

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