kangeiko

I'm back home, thank god. This Christmas was survived without an almighty familial row, and I therefore count it as A Success (tm).

( Xmas loot )

*

In non-acquisition-related news, my cold has made a tactical retreat. I think it's because of that tea mum's been feeding me. I thought that it was 'ginger, honey & lemon' - that awful twinings mix, why twinings, why?? - but it was really strong to be from that. Also, it seemed to take her ten minutes to make me a cup. What's going on? As it turned out, she had to grate the ginger and squeeze the lemon and do various other things - yes, she was brewing the bastard thing up from scratch. No wonder it took the lining of my oesophagus off as it was going down. Worked a treat, though, I feel almost human. Ridiculously tired, though - must have a nap every three hours or so. More often if I've made the mistake of venturing outside for longer than three seconds. It'd be amusing if it wasn't happening to me. :)

I have returned home with a small mountain of foodstuffs. Most of it has gone in the freezer. There are, however, various cooked things that need eating reasonably soon. I'm not sure how many stuffed vine leaves my mother thinks a person can eat in a single sitting, especially as they each weigh about the size of a cat. Mmm, cats.

...

Although not for eating, obviously.

*

Right, clearly this is the time for a nap. Back in an hour or so.

erykah101, darling, thank you so much my present, it arrived today!! *is full of Teh Squee!!!*

Many, many thanks to all the people who sent me lovely b-day wishes. *smooches you all* You guys are the best.

Yesterday was fab. I bought art materials, and drew for several hours (my left arm is strangely fascinating once you've dissected it on paper...) and wrote fic, and drank chai tea, and generally did nothing. IT WAS ACE.

In the evening, I met up with athena25, wingsmith, queenspanky and ababyyou and we went to Carmen for tapas and sangria, and THEY BOUGHT ME A JEWELLED RIDING CROP!! I just about fell off my chair. It's soooooooooo beautiful! *loves*

Today I slept until 1pm.

I like being older. :)

For bluerosefairy, for her request: two dangerous women named Irina, to my offer of fic for Xmas/Channukah/Yule.


Title: Nopheth
Fandoms: Alias/Carnivale (mainly Carnivale, to be fair)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: 22 March 1943, eight years to the day before Irina Derevko is born, the entire population of Khaytun, Belarus, is burnt alive by occupying forces. Not quite eight years later, her namesake comes to Moscow.
Characters/Pairings: Iris/Justin.
A/N: many thanks to selenak, for answering my Carnivale S2-questions.

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( Read more... )

bluerosefairy, honey, I doubt whether this was what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Merry Christmas!

There is nothing more lovely than being woken up by the postlady delivering you Christmas gifts. Mmmmmmmm. *glows* A very big thank-you to erykah101 for being so thoughtful, precious - I am exercing a modicum of self-control and have not yet opened my gift, but rest assured that there shall be major squeeing come Xmas time. *smooches you*

I also want to thank wee guinea-pig K, who likewise sent me pretty things, *smooches you*, and weaselator, who turned up with gifts and hot Thai soup and made me not so lurgy-d.

*loves my friends*

In fandom news, can I say that my BSG ship has much to squee over? Go over here for a spoilery picture from 'Resurrection Ship Part 2'. Put any spin on it you like, I'm squeeing!

I'm also researching my spy_santa fic like a .. researching thing. I sort-of kind-of maybe know what I want to do with it, but I want to get it clear in my head first before committing anything to paper. In the process of researching, however, I came across this fantastic poem that completely encapsulated Irina's attitude to Sydney for me.

For a Five-Year-Old

A snail is climbing up the window-sill
into your room, after a night of rain.
You call me in to see, and I explain
that it would be unkind to leave it there:
it might crawl to the floor; we must take care
that no one squashes it. You understand,
and carry it outside, with careful hand,
to eat a daffodil.

I see, then, that a kind of faith prevails:
your gentleness is moulded still by words
from me, who have trapped mice and shot wild birds,
from me, who drowned your kittens, who betrayed
your closest relatives, and who purveyed
the harshest kind of truth to many another.
But that is how things are: I am your mother,
And we are kind to snails.

Fleur Adcock


On that note, ladies and gents, I'm off to hang out the washing. Having turned up at work yesterday and been summarily dismissed by a senior partner for sounding like death, I am sat on my tod all day today, tidying the house and easting all the perishables I can manage. Tomorrow, I am off to be pampered at my parents' house.

I am birthday girl. I have iPod and perfume and all the best books ever. I am positively giddy with glee.

I am now going out for lunch etc.

Many things happened these last couple of days, including many plays, which I shall write about when less hung-over.

If you loved me, you'd write me fic.