July 8th, 2013


wimbledon & shopping

I am given to understand that Paul Bettany won Wimbledon yesterday, and that the British are very excited about this. :)

It was an insanely busy weekend. Saturday was pretty nearly perfect; we went forth and shopped, getting exciting things like lawn mowers and ice cream makers, and went to the farmers’ market, and had lunch out.

We also got new shoes for Young Indiana which exploded three hours later. The entire bottom front half of the left shoe just went splooey and fell off, and all he’d done was walked around a block and then ridden in the buggy until we got home. Despite having not taken a box because he was wearing them out, and having been told they couldn’t be returned or exchanged if we didn’t have a box, they not only exchanged them but responded with gratifying and embarrassed horror at the disintegration. So kudos to Sketchers for that.

In the evening I went to see Now You See Me, then came home and sent Ted to–well, I thought he was going to Hummingbird, but he went to see Now You See Me too. We both liked it a lot. :)

On another topic, the outside of my left foot has been hurting for a while. It was worse when my last pairs of shoes were getting old, and improved somewhat when I got new ones, but it’s aching more now without the other worn-out-shoes symptoms. It has finally occurred to me that perhaps there’s actually something wrong with my foot. It’s possible I should go get it looked at, eh?

Today is more unpacking. Yesterday we rearranged the front bedroom to put the bed away and put a bookcase in so I can now, well, unpack. And do…other things. I should be making a list and I can’t even think of what to put on it right now. Except

- call airtricity
- get sticks
- work on the grant applications :/
- email nice lady at [redacted] to discuss [redacted]
- email matrice

(x-posted from The Essential Kit)


Picoreview: Now You See Me

Picoreview: Now You See Me: I loved it, actually. Really enjoyed it. And this is an enormously non-specific review, because it’s got too many great twists to risk spoiling.

Jesse Eisenberg meant Mark Ruffalo wasn’t my least favorite performer on the screen, which I think has never happened before in a movie with Ruffalo in it. I thought the romantic storyline was forced, but the only person I’ve ever thought Ruffalo had on-screen chemistry with is RDJ, and it is clear other people don’t think his charm is limited to the Science Brothers. OTOH, the female lead, Mélanie Laurent, with whom I had not previously been familiar, was charming (which only made the romance attempt more painful). I also thought the whole thing kind of fell apart in the denouement.

Woody Harrelson was particularly enjoyable, and it was delicious watching Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine in a different relationship than the Alfred/Lucian one. Overall, well worth it, I thought. :)

(x-posted from The Essential Kit)


oh no

There’s been a bad plane crash in Soldotna, the next town over from my home town of Kenai. Ten people were killed. They haven’t released names yet, except somebody I went to high school with just said the pilot was a family member.

When I was fourteen there was a terrible, terrible small plane crash in Homer that killed about twenty people and injured several more. Among the dead were a junior high history teacher, which meant literally everyone at my high school had had him as a teacher, and his son, whom I’d known (and had a crush on) since grade school.

I sobbed when I read about this plane wreck. I’m having a hard time not crying writing this. No unbelievably traumatic associations here or anything, no sir.

(x-posted from The Essential Kit)


ice cream

When I was a kid, we used to go down to Homer for the 4th of July. Loads of us, extended theatre family types. Lots of kids, lots of adults, lots of mosquitoes. Fireworks you couldn’t see, because the sun doesn’t go down in Alaska in July. Wading in the slough and getting clay up to your knees and convincing each other that the mothers wouldn’t notice. Picking Alaska cotton and tickling each other with the fluff. Running up the solid mud road to the cousins who had running water, to drink from their hose. Hot dogs and potato salad and hamburgers and deviled eggs. Sodas and Kool-Aid and beer.

They (well, someone) had an old-fashioned hand-cranked ice cream maker, the big wooden barrel kind that you filled with salt and ice and sat a kid on top of to keep the lid on until that kid’s butt pretty much froze solid, and then you sat a different kid on top of it, and made the half-frozen kid turn the crank for a while to get the blood flowing again. Adults took turns cranking too, though not so much with the sitting, if I recall. It seemed like it took all day, and all day is a long time in Alaska in the summertime.

The vanilla ice cream I just made tastes like those memories.

(x-posted from The Essential Kit)