Trapezoid Shawl Pattern
Sep. 16th, 2025 06:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Have spent most of the day asleep.
Reading. Tiny bits of Solutions and Other Problems and The Painful Truth.
Listening. More Hidden Almanac.
Exploring. Chester, including Chester Zoo!
Eating. Almost all of my favourite field foods, including raspberry and lemon curd toasties, noodle pots with the addition of the prepped salad bits (spinach! red onion!), the giant lemon and sugar crepes, and flapjack. ("Almost" because the cake options CHANGED.)
Observing. The Milky Way. Something that might have been some kind of satellite or might have been some kind of shooting star. CHESTER ZOO, etc. At least one field bat.
On the whole it's been a pretty good week, modulo problems with the kitchen plumbing, and my internal plumbing. But music! With m leaving next week for the US until the end of October, we had to get as many of their tracks on the new Kaleidofolk album as possible recorded. For this we needed scratch tracks, and as of this afternoon we have them. We have studio time booked for Wednesday and Thursday.
We visited StudiOjo Friday evening. It's only 450m away -- an easy walk even for us. I'll be saying more about the album soon, presumably; all that's needed is time to write it. For now, I'll just mention the title, Winds of Time, which comes from a line near the end of the next-to-last track, "Millennium's Dawn".
In the process of searching for an instrument cable I came across my MXL large-diaphragm condenser mic, so the purple RØDE NT1 I've been coveting will have to wait until this project is done. Hazard pay.
There's nothing quite like reading fanfic that jumps up on your buttons and rolls around on them like my cat jumping up on my keyboard while I'm working.
Weekend one is not off to a great start, I'm gonna be honest. It's definitely now Autumn and the pressure change has my vertigo messing with me. At the moment I have tinnitus in both ears, but the right ear is the whooshing sound I usually get and my left ear is a high-pitched sound. The combination of tinnitus and audio processing disorder leads to the most ridiculous scenes in stores or restaurants or anywhere I have to talk to people because I'll be partway through an interaction and lose the ability to understand what the other person is saying.
The plan for this weekend has been cut down since bending over and other various weird movement is out, but at minimum we're planning on taking some stuff to goodwill tomorrow. This will happen. Bug went through her books some and for her that's huge. And we paid somebody with a truck to come take a few things too big for the car, so... Definitely some progress. Just not as much as I'd like.
I did also finish a fic last night but not anything I've been intending to work on, just something that took over my brain this week. Yay, that!
Today has brought the news of the passing of two more people - one I counted a friend, and one I knew more in passing. I've known both since the 80s.
David was a member of the dance group my mother and I joined in about 1984, and which I've intermittently been associated with since. I'm not sure if I ever had a conversation with them that wasn't about dancing. We were members of the same performance group, although I spent far fewer years in it than David. Other than folk festivals and dancing places, the only other place I ever remember encountering David was in one of the city queer pubs on a very quiet weekday afternoon. I never did find out if they were there because it was a safe space, or because it was their local pub.
Robert ran the Fremantle Music School, which I attended briefly in the mid 80s*. I've encountered Robert intermittently over the years, at various music events. They were involved in the Mandolin Orchestra, and I believe the Recorder and Early Music Society. We met up again when I joined the first of the two (very) amateur orchestras I've joined in recent years -- they have been the leader of the group in the years I've been there (two years? three?). In retirement, Robert became somewhat prolific in composing pieces, and I think we had one of their pieces at least every semester. We have one that is due to be debuted tomorrow, at a concert that is now going to be a bit fraught. **
* provided-by-school lessons ran to the end of year ten. I found a lovely teacher at the FMS, but when they moved away from the school roughly a year later, I followed them, mostly having lessons at their home.
** I really feel for our conductor, and for our other main organiser, both of whom have been dealing with calling telling people one on one throughout today.
At my last psych appointment, I reported back that while getting my evening tasks done earlier was great, and for four nights I'd successfully gone to bed at a reasonable time, it hadn't lasted. I had continued to get the tasks done (most nights) but had lost the ability to then go to bed afterwards -- I'd adjusted to the new normal, and 'finish my list' was no longer 'and it's bed time' it was 'and it's time to read fic / flirt with tumblr / etc'.
(aside: the expression on the psych's face was priceless. They said approximately 'You did the homework?! only teachers do the homework!?'. And here was me feeling that I'd half arsed the homework. Which, yeah. )
Building on that success, I've moved my bedside lamp down from the top of the bedside shelf (say, 1.1m up) to the shelf that is the same height as the bed. This enables me to read in bed with just the lamp on, and not have a really bright room. And it will surprise no-one who knows about sleep and light and screens, putting the screen away and then reading in low light on paper? My insomnia is dramatically reduced.
I'm now waking up before the 7am alarm more days than not. But what I'm not feeling is rested. I'm obviously getting 'enough' sleep in some way, or I wouldn't be waking, but I'm not sure I'm getting enough sleep cycles. Or maybe it is that I've got a lot of stress happening, and I'm just burning through all the oomph I have.
Today I am thankful for...
I do not know how to characterize the fact that the RØDE NT1 now comes in PURPLE. Gratitude doesn't seem quite appropriate.
Between one thing and another we wound up having a semi-impromptu mini-break in Chester, including a few hours at Chester Zoo.
... where we went into the bats enclosure and were transfixed for about an hour, basically from the moment we walked in until chucking-out time.
It's a big dark room, artificially crepuscular, with lots of trees (dead) for roosts, and somewhere in the vicinity of 350 bats (Seba's short-tailed and Rodrigues fruit bats). THEY WILL COME SO CLOSE TO YOU. THEY WILL COME SO CLOSE TO YOU. They were flying well within a foot of our faces. You could FEEL THE WIND FROM THEIR WINGBEATS.
And A was greatly honoured by one LANDING ON THEIR TROUSERS.
There were many other Excellent Creatures -- the Humboldt penguins in particular were very excited by the rain (so much porpoising), and the giant otters were indeed giant, and there was an enormous dragonfly, and the flamingos went from almost entirely asleep (including one baby that had not yet got the hang of the whole one-leg trick) to YELLING INCESSANTLY after being buzzed by the scarlet ibis.
Extremely good afternoon out, 13/10, would recommend.
Reading. Lake of Souls, Ann Leckie: finished the Radch stories; on to The World Of The Raven Tower!
The Painful Truth, Monty Lyman: in progress; not yet Cross with it but also not yet Impressed by it.
More Dreamwidth catchup.
Listening. More Hidden Almanac!
Eating. SO many tomatoes.
Exploring. Poked around Preston a very little!
Growing. ... SO many tomatoes. More watering system established at plot (so hopefully all the peppers will still be alive and well upon my return). Sowed some probably-past-it seeds.
Observing. A saw a deer on the drive up to Preston! A proper big one with antlers and all! We were very impressed.
Also the local owl Yell.
When I talked about sex, it was often assumed that I didn’t know about sexual abuse, that I didn’t know about violence against women, and that because I chose to celebrate a passion or to describe a passion, I was immune from the anguish of being a woman in this society. [...] My whole life’s work has been saying—along with others—that we cannot only have an anatomy of victimization. We are more than that. We must have an anatomy of desire, of celebration. We must not assume that because a woman speaks about passion she doesn’t know pain.
We then spent the rest of this week working on scratch tracks.
I'm too sleepy to hunt down good links -- not a whole lot anywaay because see above about working. (I'm too old for this. Nevertheless...)
Or at least "the other line I meant to highlight from the Wikipedia article":
There is increasing evidence that the smooth muscle that lines the airways becomes progressively more sensitive to changes that occur as a result of injury to the airways from dehydration.
I had only taken 700ml of water with me; I'd blithely assumed I'd be able to top up at the café and then had Too Much Social Anxiety to ask or even check whether they had a jug out, because that's a thing my brain is definitely Doing at the moment. ... and then on the way back I was desperately thirsty and stole most of A's water, and I am just personally finding it Very Interesting that the thing my body wanted me to do most was More Fluids.
Over on the 32-bit cafe board, Eladnarra linked to a recent post of hers about disability in the recent blog post thread, and two other community members chimed in about their wives' experiences as breast cancer survivors, and I started thinking. My thoughts got a little overgrown for a reply on a message board, so I thought I'd write a post instead.
I don't have a conclusion. Just... I was thinking about it.