dragonyphoenix: Blackadder looking at scraps of paper, saying "It could use a beta" (Default)
dragonyphoenix: (Morticia)

I recently found a lamp-making kit among my stuff. I didn't recall why I'd bought it until I found the picture of this jack 'o lantern. The light-bulb in uncle Fester's mouth is supposed to be lit but it was too bright so I left it off.

I actually had a girl dressed as Wednesday Addams trick or treating at my house that year.

Uncle Fester.png


Oct. 9th, 2016 10:13 am
dragonyphoenix: (raven)
I don't pay a lot of attention to DnD but damn this is funny.


Oct. 8th, 2016 04:54 pm
dragonyphoenix: Katchoo from Strangers in Paradise (katchoo)
So Thursday night I hear a noise from my kitchen but didn't find anything. Friday morning the are mouse droppings ON MY COUNTERS! Ick.

One mouse in the trap this morning and no new mouse droppings so - yay! - probably only the one mouse. Naturally I've bleached the shit out of my counters. So I think the situation's under control.
dragonyphoenix: Death as the Hogfather (santa muerte)
I wouldn't have expected a Krampus doll to be less disturbing than an elf toy.
dragonyphoenix: (raven)
I'd thought Foyle's War had stopped at season 5 with the end of WWII, but I saw a preview for an episode I'd never seen. There are three more seasons! Yay!


Sep. 13th, 2016 05:15 pm
dragonyphoenix: Blackadder looking at scraps of paper, saying "It could use a beta" (blackadder)
I've been scanning old family photos and saw that my Dad was not at my cousin Jen's wedding. This has to mean he wasn't invited. I know there's a rift in the family but I didn't realize it was that strong that far back. ;-(
dragonyphoenix: (blue flower)

The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

dragonyphoenix: (Frida and God)
Maram, as a reflection of our conversation from last night, a link on my Tumblr feed sent me to another example of small details in dress indicating home / family: The tribespeople of Wadi Mahram, separated by only a few kilometres, wear similar dress but with details that distinguish each branch of the tribe from the others
dragonyphoenix: (raven)
These comments are the funniest thing I've seen in ages, possibly ever.
dragonyphoenix: (blue flower)
Letter to the Northern Lights by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

The light here on earth keeps us plenty busy: a fire
in central Pennsylvania still burns bright since 1962.

Whole squads of tiny squid blaze up the coast of Japan
before sunrise. Of course you didn’t show when we went

searching for you, but we found other lights: firefly,
strawberry moon, a tiny catch of it in each other’s teeth.

Someone who saw you said they laid down
in the middle of the road and took you all in,

and I’m guessing you’re used to that—people falling
over themselves to catch a glimpse of you

and your weird mint-glow shushing itself over the lake.
Aurora, I’d rather stay indoors with him—even if it meant

a rickety hotel and its wood paneling, golf carpeting
in the bathrooms, and grainy soapcakes. Instead

of waiting until just the right hour of the shortest
blue-night of the year when you finally felt moved

enough to collide your gas particles with sun particles—
I’d rather share sunrise with him and loon call

over the lake with him, the slap of shoreline threaded
through screen windows with him. My heart

slams in my chest, against my shirt—it’s a kind
of kindling you’d never be able to light on your own.
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