mrs butterworth Isn’t there something creepy about drinking fluids from a person’s head on your pancakes?

*shudder*

Twist and remove skullcap, dump contents of poor woman on your breakfast, return partially dessicated corpse to the fridge.

yeck.

Perserverance

The photos streamed slowly off of the developer, still glossy from the process. Murray ran the cutter across the white line defining a border between images and paused to look at them, to check for color balance and just out of sheer curiosity. He found a nice one to judge by — it was a high-contrast shot, and had better definition than the majority of amateurish pictures on the roll.

A wounded man stands in a field of bamboo, between twin rows of four stalks apiece, using a ninth as a crutch. His head is bandaged, with a look of resolve cast on his face. A path to mountains lays ahead of him, and it looks as if he plans to take the trail, regardless of the effort involved.

[edit, add, buffer.]

I wanted to feel rain on my face, but the closest I could get was a shower.

I took some time out earlier and just looked at the sky for a long, long while. Sometimes it’s a good idea to take a pause, and just lose yourself in the clouds above, mentally lift up, and bank around for a bit. Since the clouds didn’t want to put rain on my face, I provided myself with some from the showerhead after I came back inside… a cold, hard precipitation pushing my mind back to sharpness from the light fog that’d settled over it. after, a warm, then hot, soapy wash, followed by another bracing cold one means that I feel cleansed, purified, both outside and in.

It’s odd, the things that bring strength and clarity to me at times. Gravity isn’t tugging as hard as it was earler, and the air is simpler to take in. Now I have some champa burning and though the shades are drawn, a soft natural light is filling the room. I feel very connected to those I love right now, and to a lesser extent, the world as a whole.

It’s Olde! It’s Englishe! It’se Olde Englishe! Hazzahe!

lyrics doth follow.

Incipit gestis Rudolphi rangifer tarandus

Hwæt, Hrodulf readnosa hrandeor —
Næfde þæt nieten unsciende næsðyrlas!
Glitenode and gladode godlice nosgrisele.
Ða hofberendas mid huscwordum hine gehefigodon;
Nolden þa geneatas Hrodulf næftig
To gomene hraniscum geador ætsomne.
Þa in Cristesmæsseæfne stormigum clommum,
Halga Claus þæt gemunde to him maðelode:
“Neahfreond nihteage nosubeorhtende!
Min hroden hrædwæn gelæd ðu, Hrodulf!”
Ða gelufodon hira laddeor þa lyftflogan —
Wæs glædnes and gliwdream; hornede sum gegieddode
“Hwæt, Hrodulf readnosa hrandeor,
Brad springð þin blæd: breme eart þu!”

Hrodulf the Red-Nosed Reindeer (Modern English translation)
Here begins the deeds of Rudolph, Tundra-Wanderer

Lo, Hrodulf the red-nosed reindeer —
That beast didn’t have unshiny nostrils!
The goodly nose-cartilage glittered and glowed.
The hoof-bearers taunted him with proud words;
The comrades wouldn’t allow wretched Hrodulf
To join the reindeer games.
Then, on Christmas Eve bound in storms
Santa Claus remembered that, spoke formally to him:
“Dear night-sighted friend, nose-bright one!
You, Hrodulf, shall lead my adorned rapid-wagon!”
Then the sky-flyers praised their lead-deer —
There was gladness and music; one of the horned ones sang
“Lo, Hrodulf the red-nosed reindeer,
Your fame spreads broadly, you are renowned!”

It's Olde! It's Englishe! It'se Olde Englishe! Hazzahe!

lyrics doth follow.

Incipit gestis Rudolphi rangifer tarandus

Hwæt, Hrodulf readnosa hrandeor —
Næfde þæt nieten unsciende næsðyrlas!
Glitenode and gladode godlice nosgrisele.
Ða hofberendas mid huscwordum hine gehefigodon;
Nolden þa geneatas Hrodulf næftig
To gomene hraniscum geador ætsomne.
Þa in Cristesmæsseæfne stormigum clommum,
Halga Claus þæt gemunde to him maðelode:
“Neahfreond nihteage nosubeorhtende!
Min hroden hrædwæn gelæd ðu, Hrodulf!”
Ða gelufodon hira laddeor þa lyftflogan —
Wæs glædnes and gliwdream; hornede sum gegieddode
“Hwæt, Hrodulf readnosa hrandeor,
Brad springð þin blæd: breme eart þu!”

Hrodulf the Red-Nosed Reindeer (Modern English translation)
Here begins the deeds of Rudolph, Tundra-Wanderer

Lo, Hrodulf the red-nosed reindeer —
That beast didn’t have unshiny nostrils!
The goodly nose-cartilage glittered and glowed.
The hoof-bearers taunted him with proud words;
The comrades wouldn’t allow wretched Hrodulf
To join the reindeer games.
Then, on Christmas Eve bound in storms
Santa Claus remembered that, spoke formally to him:
“Dear night-sighted friend, nose-bright one!
You, Hrodulf, shall lead my adorned rapid-wagon!”
Then the sky-flyers praised their lead-deer —
There was gladness and music; one of the horned ones sang
“Lo, Hrodulf the red-nosed reindeer,
Your fame spreads broadly, you are renowned!”