(no subject)

Jun. 26th, 2017 08:25 am
copperbadge: (radiofreemondaaay)
[personal profile] copperbadge
Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Ways to Give:

[personal profile] dreamwaffles linked to a fundraiser for Kaye, who has been researching Rat Lungworm, a disease that almost killed her son Graham, who is now disabled and uses a service dog for everyday life. Kaye was a crucial part of the University of Hawai'i's RLWD research team and also the team trying to get legislative support and grant funding, but she's fighting medical debt for Graham's treatment and ongoing needs. You can read more and help out here.

[tumblr.com profile] rilee16 is still struggling to cover medical expenses after two head injuries last year, and is now dealing with an eye infection they need to get treatment for before their roommate and her toddler come back from vacation, so they don't infect the baby. They're raising $50-$60 in the short term for medical treatment; they also have a long-term fundraiser running to cover living expenses, previous medical bills, and a recent rent increase. You can read more and help out here.

[tumblr.com profile] anna-guth is a student from Germany who was recently accepted to Redroofs School for the Performing Arts in England, but her parents can't afford the full GBP24K tuition. She is raising E6.5K for tuition and school fees; you can read more and reblog here, or give directly to the fundraiser here.

[tumblr.com profile] echosiriusrumme is a student trying to buy her own clarinet; at present she doesn't have her own instrument to practice with but has a pressing need to practice before auditions and recitals for a Performance track next fall at her university. She has a few options lined up for between $800 and $1.3K, but needs to raise the funds to cover the cost; she is offering to repay over time any funds contributed to the purchase. You can read more and reblog here (plus find a ko-fi link) or give to her paypal here.


And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're not sure how to proceed, here is a little more about what I do and how you can help (or ask for help!). If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

Lufra

Jun. 26th, 2017 01:44 pm
luthien: (Default)
[personal profile] luthien

Lufra has been with us five days now, and he’s nine weeks old today. He’s a lovely, happy smart little guy. He’s already worked out that if I throw the ball and he brings it back, I will throw it again! So he’s learned how to fetch all by himself.

Caring for him has been a welcome distraction from our sadness over losing our cat Cleo so suddenly. D says that joy of life just emanates from that little dog, and he’s absolutely right.

One of Lufra’s favourite things in the world is an uggboot, and here he is with two of mine. I’m very tall and so I have quite large feet, but my boots still give a good sense of how small he still is.







My Cleo

Jun. 25th, 2017 10:54 pm
luthien: (Default)
[personal profile] luthien
 I posted this on tumblr yesterday, and since I want to be able to find it again, I'm also posting it here.



CLEO
 


1 October 2002 - 22 June 2017
 
~
 
Let me tell you about my cat Cleo.
 
For a start, she wasn’t supposed to come to us at all. She wasn’t supposed to live beyond babyhood.
 
D and I had lost  two fluffy cats over the previous 18 months – one to the untreatable and fatal Feline Infectious Peritonitis, which she’d likely been carrying since she was born, and the other to a long term heart condition – so we were down to two cats and it felt wrong. So we – well, it was mostly I if I’m being truthful – decided to get a couple of short-haired male kittens. We had two middle-aged short-haired female cats at the time, so I thought two boy kittens would be a good balance. I’ve always preferred short-haired cats, and our two previous fluffy cats had come to us from owners who could no longer keep them, so adopting them had been more accident than design.
 
I found a beautiful grey and white short-haired male kitten online, so we went off to see the lady who was fostering him. She was fostering about half a dozen other kittens as well, so, after a lot of playing with kittens – what a chore! - I chose the grey and white kitten and a short-haired ginger male kitten. Oh, I’m sorry, said the fosterer, there’s another person interested in the ginger kitten. Would any of the other kittens do?
 
There were a couple of short-haired male tabby kittens, but they were a bit shyer than what I wanted in a kitten. There were also a couple of female kittens, and I kept coming back to look at the little fluffy one. She was a dark tabby, but other than her colouring, her little face looked just like Molly, my fluffy tortie who had died of FIP the year before. It was as if Molly had come back to us, so of course I decided on the little fluffy girl kitten.
 
Oh, that one, said the fosterer. She’s one of a litter that was on death row at the pound. She’s lucky to be here at all.
 
I had to wait a week while the kittens were desexed before I could pick them up, and a couple of days before I was due to get them the fosterer contacted me again. The person who’d been intending to adopt the ginger kitten now no longer wanted him, so would I like him instead of the little fluffy girl? 
 
It was tempting, but I’d made the decision to adopt the girl, so in the meantime she hadn’t been available to other potential owners. So I said no to the ginger, and a few days later I picked up my little grey and white boy and my little fluffy tabby girl.
 
I called the grey and white boy Harry, after Harry Potter, but I was a bit stuck on what to call the girl. The shelter had named her Princess, and yes, she was one, but I wanted her to have a name from us. So, against my better judgement, I asked D to think of a name for her.  
 
His first suggestion was Jaeger Panther, after a WWII German tank. When I said no to that one, he gave it some actual serious thought and suggested Cleo as her stable name – but Jaeger Panther would still be her racing name!
 
So she was officially Princess Cleopatra Jaeger Panther. But she was always just Cleo to us.
 
Cleo was a bouncy, silly kitten, which irritated Harry, who always took life more seriously. She was also a bit shy with it, though, and I remember having to drag her out from under the couch and make her come and socialise fairly often. Like our previous fluffy cats, she took to D very quickly. Meanwhile, she and I were friends, but not best friends.
 

 


This was back in the days when we lived in the Mountains, so I used to let the cats out during the day. I did this gradually once they were a few months old, and always supervised until they were big enough to have enough sense to look after themselves.


 

One day when Cleo was less than a year old, I heard her crying from near the back door, so I came out to see what the trouble was – and realised the crying was coming from above the back door. She was standing on the edge of the roof, looking down, and clearly had no idea at all how to get down. I knew how she’d got up there, from the embankment by the shed to the shed roof, and then it was just a short leap from the shed roof to the roof of the house. She’d come around the side of the house and explored the roof, and then realised that she had no idea how she’d got there, or how to get down again.
 
 If you’ve ever had a cat, there have probably been times when the cat has managed to get up somewhere high and then decided it couldn’t get down. So I did what most of us do in that situation: I held out my arms and called Cleo’s name. Usually, in this situation, the cat just looks at you, and eventually gets down by itself. But in this case? Cleo actually jumped, and I caught her.

 
 

 
It was probably around that time that I first started calling her my silly woolly, and little miss fluffy brain, with much love.

 


When Harry and Cleo were almost five years old, Harry died from kidney failure. It was a terrible blow. He was a lovely, sooky cat, and I was his special human. So then of the two short-haired male kittens I’d intended to get that day back in 2002, I only had the accidental fluffy girl left.


 

And the accidental fluffy girl grew into quite a big cat. I’ve had fluffy cats that were very dainty underneath all the fur, but that wasn’t Cleo. She was a solid cat, around 6kg in her prime.






 
She also grew up to be a real character. She was the most talkative cat I’ve ever had. If you said anything to her, she would almost always reply. Repeatedly. And she would often tell you how she felt, whether you wanted to know or not. In her later years, she took to meowing at me non-stop, regardless of what I was doing or if I was in the middle of talking to someone, if she was determined to have some attention Right Then. She got used to me telling her not to yell at me. You can see and hear a video of her talking… and talking and talking here.




 
She never really got on with the other cats. She did try at first - as you can see in the pics above, with Ebby, who was going through flea allergy problems right then - but I think her body language looked wrong to the short-haired cats. It wasn’t that she was speaking a different language, but it was definitely a different dialect, and in the end she gave up and decided to be solitary. By the time Sasha – a short-haired male ginger kitten at last! - came to us in 2008 and tried very hard to make friends with Cleo, she simply ignored him. However, they both coveted my lap on winter nights, so they would both get on my lap and pretend that the other cat wasn’t there. When I was going through pictures to use in this post, I found a lot along these lines:




 
 
Cleo always loved going outside in the daytime. We had a huge, beautiful garden when we lived in the Mountains, and she never went very far. She was an excellent border guard if an intruder!cat happened to come visiting. She liked sitting under a bush opposite the back door – even in the depths of winter, when the short-haired cats didn’t want to go outside. Her woolly coat was perfectly designed for her to live in the Mountains climate.


Less than a year after we moved from the Mountains to where we are now, we lost Ebony, our old black cat. She was almost nineteen years old, and we’d got her as a kitten when we’d first moved in together, so she’d always been the senior cat of the household. And now, suddenly, Cleo was the senior cat. It didn’t suit her. She’d always been a silly, bouncy woolly, and she just didn’t have the gravitas of Ebony. But after a while we got used to Cleo being the oldest, and realised that she was actually starting to get old.

 

 
 
Cleo was also a huge sook, and absolutely adored a cuddle. A few years ago – five? More? I can’t remember for sure – she discovered that I was willing to baby her in ways that D wouldn’t, and she switched her allegiance. Suddenly, I was her favourite person. I would cradle her like a baby and she would purr like a chainsaw – she had a great loud purr. She liked to fall against my chest and tuck her head under my chin. In recent times, her favourite thing was to climb up onto my shoulder when I was sitting in the recliner and flop with her back legs hanging down my chest while she purred in my ear. 
 
She would also sometimes flop right across my collarbone, and just lounge there as if she really was a feline Cleopatra. I’d usually be chatting to Nym on IM when this happened, and I often couldn’t see the screen properly, or use more than one finger on the keyboard, so Nym would get messages saying things like, “A, tyuping fro undrt woo;;y.”
 

 

 

Cleo used to follow me around, too. A couple of years ago, after never being a Bed Cat – our bed always belonged to Ebony, because she was Top Cat, and then Indy, the grey boy we got after Harry died, inherited it from her when he became Top Cat – Cleo suddenly decided to be brave and stake a claim for part of the bed. But she would only sit on the bed if I was there. I tend to go to bed very late, so Cleo would wait up too, sometimes making pointed comments to let me know that she’d like to go to bed now, please. I often woke up to this view:


 

She LOVED being the Special Cat, and being allowed to go out onto the patio in the daytime, after several years being an indoor only cat after we moved to our current house. As I said, she was getting old, and she didn’t want to wander. She just wanted to be outside in the garden, and not just in the cat run where Those Other Cats had to go. It’s not the Mountains, but it’s still sub-alpine here, so her thick, woolly coat was perfect for being outside in the winter here, too. And of course it was nice out there in the shade in the summer, too:









 

And that was our Cleo, and our life with her, until those two pit bulls turned up in our backyard the other day. You can’t possibly blame me as much as I blame myself for letting her outside when the new front fence was being installed, but you just don’t EXPECT a pair of marauding dogs IN YOUR BACKYARD, particularly when you are right there yourself.
 
This got awfully long, but I’m utterly heartbroken about the way Cleo left us, and I wanted to write down just who she was.
 
I’ve been talking to dog people recently, in the course of preparing for and getting our new puppy, and one of them mentioned that they thought cats weren’t as individual as dogs, and that cats were all pretty similar.
 
That hasn’t been my experience at all. D and I have had ten cats over the last – god – 23 years, and they’ve all been absolute individuals. Every cat has been as different as different could be from every other, and none more so than my dear old woolly.
 
She was with us for fourteen and a half years. Her not being here just feels wrong. I miss her so much. She could be annoying, and I even miss that. I miss her flopping on my shoulder and making my neck hurt from the weight (on my herniated disc – thanks, cat). There is an empty space where my Cleo should be, and nothing will ever fill it.
 
Goodbye, dear Woolly. We will always miss you.

 

 

End note: Sorry this isn't cut! I did try, but I just couldn't get the script to cooperate!
luthien: (Default)
[personal profile] luthien
 I posted this on tumblr on Friday.

This week has been a week I’ll never forget, in both good and bad ways.

On Wednesday morning, we finally got our gorgeous little sheltie puppy, Lufra. He’s a little sweetheart, confident and curious and happy as well as beautiful. I took him to the vet yesterday for a check-up, and the vet was very happy with him in every way. The vet introduced Lufra to his own dog, to see how he got on with other dogs. Lufra wasn’t at all shy, but he also wasn’t too pushy or forward in a way that might annoy another dog. Pretty much perfect. He’s going to be a great dog - once we start getting on top of his house training and cat training, anyway.

And that brings me to the other thing that happened on Wednesday.

Those of you who’ve been reading this blog for a while will know that we have a large cat run attached to the side of our house, and that since we moved here a few years ago, our cats don’t go anywhere else outside. The exception has been Cleo, my old woolly cat, who’s been going out to the patio behind the front fence to snooze most days for the past couple of years.

This week, we’ve been having our front fence replaced. The fencing guy was working on the fence on Wednesday afternoon, but there wasn’t much fence there yet. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have let Cleo out, but D and I were also out there, and she wasn’t freaked out by the fencing guy, so when she went to the door and waited for it to open I… let her out. I will always regret that decision. 

I went along the patio along the side of the house to the backyard where D was, to see how he was going with something he was working on, and Cleo followed me. I was just standing there, talking to D, and Cleo was on the lawn nearby, when two large dogs just… appeared. They were American Pit Bulls. They took one look at Cleo and attacked.

D and I both fought back. D got between Cleo and the dogs, and managed to get hold of her, but in her panic she attacked him, and left some deep scratches on his face right near his eye. D dropped Cleo and she ran for the fence. He lost his glasses and had so much blood in his eyes he couldn’t see. I had lost a shoe and fallen over on the grass. Meanwhile, the dogs had caught up to Cleo over by the side fence, so I ran over there, still holding my shoe, and hit one of the dogs with it, over and over.

The fencing guy, who hadn’t heard anything because he was wearing ear protectors, noticed the commotion when things moved over to the fence, and he ran down and threatened the dogs with whatever large tool he was using at the time. Faced by three hostile humans, the dogs finally decided it wasn’t worth it, and retreated.

I grabbed Cleo, who was now going into shock so she didn’t attack me, left D bleeding all over the bathroom, and rushed her to the vet.

I was waiting at the vet’s for ages, but finally the vet came and talked to me. What he had to say gave me cause to hope. Cleo didn’t appear to be as badly hurt as she might have been. Her breathing had stabilised and her lungs were okay. The x-rays showed that her back and pelvis and other bones were okay, too. She couldn’t stand or walk because her back legs couldn’t hold her weight, but he thought that was because of torn muscles rather than anything else. They’d shaved her back end and found several puncture marks, but her thick fur had stopped the dogs from easily sinking their teeth in. The vet was still cautiously hopeful that she would recover, and that I could probably take her home the next evening.

While I was at the vet’s, D called the government’s animal services department and reported the attack. After I came home, I persuaded him to go to a doctor and get patched up. He has some impressive plasters on his face and hands, and will probably have scars, but he’s incredibly lucky that Cleo didn’t get his eye - and also that the dogs didn’t attack us, for that matter. AND that little Lufra was not out there with us. He would have had no chance at all against those dogs.

But our luck ran out. The vet called first thing the next morning (yesterday morning) to say that Cleo had died in the night. He’s still not sure entirely what killed her, because the most likely causes of fatality should have shown symptoms earlier and didn’t, but it’s a good bet that organ failure was involved somehow.

So I have my new puppy, but my dear old Woolly is gone. She was fourteen and a half, and I’d had her since she was a little kitten. She was getting old, but she’d always been in excellent health, and it was entirely possible that we could have had her for another four or five years.

I’ll write a post about her later or tomorrow or in the next couple of days. I still can’t quite believe that she’s just… gone. And I will always blame myself that I couldn’t protect her better, and that I let her out that afternoon - but not as much as I blame the owner of those two dogs.

D heard back from the animal services department this afternoon. They told him that they believe the dogs were involved in another attack later that same evening, and if we see them again we should calll animal services right away.

So here’s hoping they manage to catch up with the dogs and their owner before they have the chance to attack someone else’s beloved pet - or, god forbid, a child.
 

Well it's not Watergate....

Jun. 24th, 2017 08:30 am
legionseagle: (Default)
[personal profile] legionseagle
...except in the sense of the cover-up being worse than the original offence, but the strange goings on at Holman Fenwick and Willan's Christmas Quiz have livened up what was otherwise a rather dull crop of stories over at Roll on Friday.

(The most interesting thing which happened recently in the legal world prior to Quizgate was the merger between Bond Dickinson, a firm memorable for one associate complaining that "I have more chance of being savaged to death in the gents loos by a walrus than I have of making partner at Bond Dickinson" during a RoF Quality of Legal Life survey, and Womble Carlyle , a US firm, creating a "transatlantic giant" to be called Womble Dickinson which, as per a lawyer I bumped into at a recent course on digital rights confirmed, is as a result in the middle of a mass exodus of talent, since it's bad enough being expected to work US legal hours on a UK legal salary, but having all your peers at other firms singing, "Remember you're a womble" at you on every conceivable opportunity puts the cherry on top of the shit sundae.)

Anyway, Holman Fenwick are a traditional shipping firm, and those always have a bit of a reputation for excessive machismo, especially the "wet" shipping specialists, and as per people chipping in in comments, the partner in question has the reputation of being the biggest wanker in a tough field. When his team won the Christmas quiz by a large margin, it was whispered in the ears of HR that there might have been dirty work at the crossroads, and, indeed, it transpired that the quiz question and answer document had been opened on said partner's computer hours before the quiz commenced.*

Where things then took a turn for the worse is that the partner alleged that it wasn't him, squire, his computer must have been hacked. And while cheating on the Christmas quiz barely registers on the list of batty things I've heard of partners in law firms doing in my thirty-odd years in this profession (in no particular order, these include but are not limited to: ordering one's trainee to iron one's jodhpurs in time for hunting at the weekend, throwing a Company seal at the head of a trainee, ordering a trainee to mouth-siphon petrol out of another car in the office carpark during a fuel shortage, resulting in hospitalisation of said trainee, asking a dark-skinned and a light-skinned secretary at a Christmas party, "Well, girls, how do you feel about cafe-au-lait?", inviting two interviewees to a brothel as soon as the interview had finished with the words, "Well, now that's over, let's go and get our nobs polished" ....) allegations of hacking into partnerial computers** get the IT team really interested, officially because it threatens the integrity of client communications, but really I suspect because it gives them a chance to give the thing a right going over in the hope of being able to go "Good God, I'm glad you brought us in. The same person who framed you for the Christmas quiz must have also tried to frame you for the possession of porn! Look, this file here --and here -- and here -- there's terrabytes of the stuff! We'll have to extend the search to all your mobile devices too, I'm afraid."

Anyway, I'm going with "watch this space."



*HFM clearly take a Kingscote-like approach to security of examination questions and the like. It would never have happened in the Airedale Quiz league, in which I played for about five years.

** Which is usually like taking candy from a baby, tbf; I once many years ago took advantage of the habit one of our partners had of leaving his computer logged on and unlocked while he went off on hours-long gossip sessions with the other team partners to send round an email warning the department of the dangers of leaving one's computer logged on and unattended, and then departed on holiday before the fallout happened.
copperbadge: (Default)
[personal profile] copperbadge
I was reading this one at the same time as I was reading Sorting The Beef From The Bull, which was like a natural sciences one-two punch; I would read Sorting while commuting, and Remarkable Creatures in bed at night. 

Remarkable Creatures is the fictionalized story of two real-life people, Mary Anning and Elizabeth Philpot, who were fossil hunters in Lyme Regis in England back when we were just starting to like, figure dinosaurs out. It follows their relationship, and their struggles to be seen as legitimate contributors to the scientific record, for several years.

I didn’t actually know the account was based in real life until after I’d finished reading, which did ameliorate some of my disappointment with the book, because it’s hard to make a climactic narrative out of peoples’ real lives – reality just doesn’t flow as smoothly as fiction. But I won’t lie: I am still pretty disappointed that Elizabeth and Mary didn’t end up together. I thought that was totally where we were heading.

Mind you, the story of their friendship is compelling, and Chevalier did find a way to create rising action within the story, even though as she put it in the afterword, Mary Anning basically did the same thing every day for years, in terms of hunting fossils. 

As an account of fossil hunting, of the religious wrestling that people had to do with the concept of extinction, and of the way women were treated in the era, it’s a really great book. And it’s also a fast read, which I’ve come to expect from Chevalier. And honestly, this is the first book of hers I’ve read where the female leads don’t get married, though this is in part because the real-life Mary and Elizabeth didn’t either. 

But it still feels like Chevalier’s books are always about women settling. It’s the same problem – I know that’s what women have had to do, and I’m sure she does it intentionally at least in part to remind us of that fact. I just want more for these heroines. 

But if you’re interested in paleontology, Do Recommend, it’s a good book. Less frustrating than The Last Runaway, certainly, and the characters feel more compelling, more three-dimensional, than some of those in Girl With A Pearl Earring. 

from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2rR0LC8
via IFTTT
copperbadge: (Default)
[personal profile] copperbadge
I don’t know why it surprises me, my summers are always bananas, but July looks especially bonkers this year. Of the 20 possible workdays in July, I’m out for conferences, vacation, or workshops for a full half of them. I’m properly working only ten days in the entire month of July. 

I mean, I’m not unhappy about it. And thank god for a great paid leave package. I’m going to be traveling to cool places and doing neat things. It’s just kind of surreal. Like how last year I was only in the office for one week in all of June. 

from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2rJJg6R
via IFTTT
copperbadge: (literate men need books)
[personal profile] copperbadge
Taking a little break from Tracy Chevalier (we’ll be back to her soon)...

So, [tumblr.com profile] terrie01 recommended this book to me during a discussion on food fraud, and it’s been a really...interesting experience. On the one hand it’s a very informative book, packed full of detail and data, but on the other oh man is it dry. I didn’t realize what a struggle it was to get through until I started reading Extra Virginity this morning, which is about the same general topic (focused on olive oil) but is much more engagingly written.

Sorting the Beef From The Bull focuses on food fraud from a legislative and economic angle; I can imagine for people working in the industry it’s a little more accessible, and I don’t think it’s a badly written book. It’s just jammed with a combination of dense law and complex biochemistry, when what I (a non-lawyer, non-scientist) wanted was like...war stories about food fraud.

text )

(no subject)

Jun. 19th, 2017 08:24 am
copperbadge: (radiofreemondaaay)
[personal profile] copperbadge
Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Before we begin, a quick reminder: when you submit a link and a blurb, you guys are your own best advocates. Try to look at the sites you're submitting and think, If I knew nothing about this situation, would what I'm seeing be helpful? And if not, try to include more context. You can give me more than one link, and it's often helpful to do so.

(This isn't specific to this week, just starting to notice a trend over the last six months where not enough context is available for me to write the blurb, let alone for others to be informed about it. Just a gentle nudge in the right direction!)

Ways to Give:

Julie is raising funds to cover rent; she has a job lined up but won't have a paycheck in time for July's rent. (This is a link I'm sharing rather than one that was submitted to RFM, so while I wasn't sure I should post Julie's username, I'll vouch for her personally.) You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

[tumblr.com profile] charlietheskonk is fundraising for a new Montessori preschool with wrap-around care; the fundraiser is to support startup and licensing costs, and supports a queer-owned business. You can read more and reblog here, or check out the fundraiser and give here.

[tumblr.com profile] digitaldiscipline linked to Jenn Vs. Trevor, a charity deadlift battle to raise funds for the winner's local Humane Society branch. You can reblog the link here and read more and donate here.

[tumblr.com profile] rilee16 is still struggling to cover medical expenses after two head injuries last year, and hasn't been cleared to return to work, thus can't earn money to cover basic living costs, let alone the bills they've received, including a recent rent increase. They are frequently running out of money for gas to even do odd jobs for pay. You can read more and help out here.

Help For Free:

Anon linked to the EPA, which is soliciting public comment about the Second Five-Year Review Report for the Hudson River PCBs Superfund site. The report indicates that the levels of PCBs in the river are still too high, but the EPA is not planning any active measures to reduce them. You can read more here and find contact information here to tell the EPA the Hudson River deserves better.

RSF linked to public comments solicitation about a plan to "trim" the US National Monuments; activists are working to make it known how important they are, and that monuments like Bears Ears should be saved. You can learn more and comment here.

News to Know:

[tumblr.com profile] drgaellon linked to a linkslist for religious LGBTQ people who are struggling with their faith's attitudes towards their orientation; included are sites that validate queer orientations for Christian, Jewish, and Muslim faiths, including a site specifically for trans Jewish people. You can find the links and reblog here.

Housing:

[tumblr.com profile] worldsonpaper is looking for a new flatmate in Sydney, 15 minutes by train from the CBD. She is LGBT+ friendly but requests no male applicants. Bedroom with a shared bath, $250/wk plus internet; electricity and water are covered in the rent. $900 bond. You can contact her via ask on tumblr or at wieldswords at gmail.com.

[tumblr.com profile] blackestglass is looking for a roommate in the greater DC/Northern VA area, to move in on August 1. She is in a 2br/2ba condo, Metro accesible, with free parking, gym access, and in-unit laundry. Master suite is available for $1290/mo plus utilities, or the smaller suite is available for $1190/mo, with lower rent if the parking space isn't needed and can be rented out. You can read more and get in touch here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're not sure how to proceed, here is a little more about what I do and how you can help (or ask for help!). If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.
astolat: lady of shalott weaving in black and white (Default)
[personal profile] astolat


The War of Silver and Ash (15883 words) by astolat
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Witcher 3 - Fandom
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Geralt/Emhyr
Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emhyr var Emreis, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Lady Orianna
Additional Tags: Vampires, Toussaint - Freeform, War, Nilfgaard
Series: Part 7 of Witcher works
Summary:

He hadn’t come here with a contract. He’d come here to get the faces out of his head: the bloodless dead sprawled in heaps through the streets of Beauclair, the morning after the rampage Detlaff had unleashed; the blank eyes of the boy in the orphanage tilting his head to let Orianna drink from his throat, with the lullaby she’d been singing him still hanging in the air.


Wasn’t working that well so far.

In praise of the emergency services

Jun. 14th, 2017 08:35 pm
legionseagle: (Default)
[personal profile] legionseagle
Kipling said it best:

The Sons of Martha


THE Sons of Mary seldom bother, for they have inherited that good part;
But the Sons of Martha favour their Mother of the careful soul and the troubled heart.
And because she lost her temper once, and because she was rude to the Lord her Guest,
Her Sons must wait upon Mary's Sons, world without end, reprieve, or rest.

It is their care in all the ages to take the buffet and cushion the shock.
It is their care that the gear engages; it is their care that the switches lock.
It is their care that the wheels run truly; it is their care to embark and entrain,
Tally, transport, and deliver duly the Sons of Mary by land and main.

They say to mountains, " Be ye removèd" They say to the lesser floods " Be dry."
Under their rods are the rocks reprovèd - they are not afraid of that which is high.
Then do the hill tops shake to the summit - then is the bed of the deep laid bare,
That the Sons of Mary may overcome it, pleasantly sleeping and unaware.

They finger death at their gloves' end where they piece and repiece the living wires.
He rears against the gates they tend: they feed him hungry behind their fires.
Early at dawn, ere men see clear, they stumble into his terrible stall,
And hale him forth like a haltered steer, and goad and turn him till evenfall.

To these from birth is Belief forbidden; from these till death is Relief afar.
They are concerned with matters hidden - under the earthline their altars are
The secret fountains to follow up, waters withdrawn to restore to the mouth,
And gather the floods as in a cup, and pour them again at a city's drouth.

They do not preach that their God will rouse them a little before the nuts work loose.
They do not teach that His Pity allows them to leave their job when they damn-well choose.
As in the thronged and the lighted ways, so in the dark and the desert they stand,
Wary and watchful all their days that their brethren's days may be long in the land.

Raise ye the stone or cleave the wood to make a path more fair or flat;
Lo, it is black already with blood some Son of Martha spilled for that !
Not as a ladder from earth to Heaven, not as a witness to any creed,
But simple service simply given to his own kind in their common need.

And the Sons of Mary smile and are blessèd - they know the angels are on their side.
They know in them is the Grace confessèd, and for them are the Mercies multiplied.
They sit at the Feet - they hear the Word - they see how truly the Promise runs.
They have cast their burden upon the Lord, and - the Lord He lays it on Martha's Sons !



By the way, Tim Farron, couldn't you have put off your politico-religious crisis until tomorrow? Respect, man. And speaking of religion, it seems that the death toll in what Monica Galetti (who is helping co-ordinate help and support efforts via Twitter) referred to as "Grendel Towers", would have been even higher than what it will undoubtedly be had it not been for the fact that it's Ramadan in June in latitudes 51 degrees north and counting, and so the local Muslims were awake and helped rouse everyone they could*, also sending water and other stuff from the nearby mosque.


*The tower residents report that the alarms did not work and neighbours hammering on doors was the best and first alarm they got.
copperbadge: (Default)
[personal profile] copperbadge
Dutch Baby is by far the most dramatic of all the pastries. 

Look how impressed my owl spoon rest is and DO NOT look at how oh my god filthy my stove is….

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[personal profile] copperbadge
Trying to get back into the swing of reviewing books, especially since I’m no longer re-reading the entire Nero Wolfe canon…

So, I recently found a stash of Chevalier’s ebooks on my tablet and decided to re-read Girl With A Pearl Earring, which I very much liked, and then picked The Last Runaway out of the others. The book centers around a young Quaker woman from England, Honor Bright, who at some point in the mid 19th century (I’m a little shaky on the exact date, but pre-Civil War) decides to immigrate to America with her sister Grace after Honor’s fiancee breaks their engagement to marry outside the faith. Spoilers below. 

spoilers! )

Tony fics search

Jun. 13th, 2017 09:43 am
[personal profile] awsom3 posting in [community profile] avengers_search
Are there any fics where our Tony stumbles upon a world or an alternative universe where its Tony died?
Bonus if he died before becoming Iron Man.
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