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Dec. 10th, 2025 02:45 amTimes are trying, but my cats are on the job.
Sweetie, who now looks like a furry tabby bowling ball with legs, comes downstairs to support my efforts when I'm on the weight bench. She has learned not to walk under the moving parts (the weights) when they're moving, which means I don't get a cramp letting them back down sloooooowly to avoid her. And she tells me she loves me and would I skritch ... there? Ohhh thanks. And asks to be let into the storage room to check for mice. Why would I say no to that?
Zoomy doesn't do that, but he has taken to shoving his favorite toy mouse under the bedroom door for me at night, so that I will have it to play with if I want or to sleep with. (I don't, but he doesn't understand a lot about humans yet. He's only about 18 months old.) I give it back to him in the morning, and then find it again later. He also curls up (during the day) next to me and sighs and sleeps with only a little whuffling snore. (I'd let him sleep here at night but it would screw up my breathing; he sheds a lot. A lint roller is a must with him, for use on anywhere he's been lying.)
Sweetie, who now looks like a furry tabby bowling ball with legs, comes downstairs to support my efforts when I'm on the weight bench. She has learned not to walk under the moving parts (the weights) when they're moving, which means I don't get a cramp letting them back down sloooooowly to avoid her. And she tells me she loves me and would I skritch ... there? Ohhh thanks. And asks to be let into the storage room to check for mice. Why would I say no to that?
Zoomy doesn't do that, but he has taken to shoving his favorite toy mouse under the bedroom door for me at night, so that I will have it to play with if I want or to sleep with. (I don't, but he doesn't understand a lot about humans yet. He's only about 18 months old.) I give it back to him in the morning, and then find it again later. He also curls up (during the day) next to me and sighs and sleeps with only a little whuffling snore. (I'd let him sleep here at night but it would screw up my breathing; he sheds a lot. A lint roller is a must with him, for use on anywhere he's been lying.)
This is a prayer to Aphrodite. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for love and beauty. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for wine and roses. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for orgasm. This is a prayer for Resistance.
Turning my eyes from ugly times, I cry to the Goddess of Beauty. Beaten down again and again, I cry to She Who Enjoys.
“Aphrodite!” I cry. “You wear sea foam, You stand on a shell, You are surrounded by cherubim. Send, Great Goddess, Your cherubim to bring beauty back to the world.”
My Goddess lifts Her left foot, Her left foot covered in foam. She shakes off the foam and begins to dance.
This is a prayer to Aphrodite. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for mirth and irreverance. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for perfume and starlight. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for artists and lovers. This is a prayer for Resistance.
In a time of cruelty and hatred, I cry to the Goddess of Love. Out of sorrow and deep depression, I cry to She Who Stirs Passion.
“Aphrodite!” I cry. “You take many lovers, You admire Your own beauty, Your shining eyes light up the world. Turn again, Great Goddess, Your eyes upon us that we may remember why we Resist.”
My Goddess looks at Herself in a mirror. My Goddess takes joy in her own beauty. Slowly, She holds the mirror up to us and invites us to see what we can create.
This is a prayer for foot rubs and sex toys. This is prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for dancing and music. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for the reasons why. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer to Aphrodite. This is a prayer for Resistance.
-- by Hecate Demeter
This is a prayer for love and beauty. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for wine and roses. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for orgasm. This is a prayer for Resistance.
Turning my eyes from ugly times, I cry to the Goddess of Beauty. Beaten down again and again, I cry to She Who Enjoys.
“Aphrodite!” I cry. “You wear sea foam, You stand on a shell, You are surrounded by cherubim. Send, Great Goddess, Your cherubim to bring beauty back to the world.”
My Goddess lifts Her left foot, Her left foot covered in foam. She shakes off the foam and begins to dance.
This is a prayer to Aphrodite. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for mirth and irreverance. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for perfume and starlight. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for artists and lovers. This is a prayer for Resistance.
In a time of cruelty and hatred, I cry to the Goddess of Love. Out of sorrow and deep depression, I cry to She Who Stirs Passion.
“Aphrodite!” I cry. “You take many lovers, You admire Your own beauty, Your shining eyes light up the world. Turn again, Great Goddess, Your eyes upon us that we may remember why we Resist.”
My Goddess looks at Herself in a mirror. My Goddess takes joy in her own beauty. Slowly, She holds the mirror up to us and invites us to see what we can create.
This is a prayer for foot rubs and sex toys. This is prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for dancing and music. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for the reasons why. This is a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer to Aphrodite. This is a prayer for Resistance.
-- by Hecate Demeter
Request for research aid
Nov. 23rd, 2025 10:43 pmDoes anyone here know enough about Greek patronymics and ancient Greek names to help to give a reasonable pseudonym to a character from about 300 BCE? I keep looking up lists of names and I am not sure how to get the result I want. And this after a year of college-level Ancient Greek -- we didn't do much that I remember on the nature of ancient Greek names. Also, the textbook was by Liddell and Scott, and while I don't recall who Scott was, Liddell was the real Alice in Wonderland's father.
Help me find the right name for this character, please?
Help me find the right name for this character, please?
Yesterday I was coming home from Laurel along Rt. 29 -- what you need to know is that I was moving toward the southwest -- and the sky was very clear but looked ... odd.
When I looked up at it, I could see five white slashes in the sky, what looked like contrails from jets -- but they didn't budge, and there were no planes on the front of them to make the slashes longer. The slashes curved downward, not what you expect with an airplane trail. The longest one was closer to me, and they got smaller moving away.
All perfectly parallel, all curving downward. All unmoving. They looked like claw marks on the sky from an enormous bear.
Those were on the left. On the right, a regular contrail indicated a plane heading toward one of the local airports, probably Dulles. I could see that trail growing longer, while the others didn't move.
After I got home, I checked the 'net to see if something up above the atmosphere had broken, like a satellite, and was falling down, but didn't find anything.
It was still so weird.
And this was on my mother's birthday. She would have been 111 this year if she were still alive. I miss her every day, though as I get older I get a longer view of her life, seeing how one thing and another influenced her, and how she managed.
But still. Bear claws.
When I looked up at it, I could see five white slashes in the sky, what looked like contrails from jets -- but they didn't budge, and there were no planes on the front of them to make the slashes longer. The slashes curved downward, not what you expect with an airplane trail. The longest one was closer to me, and they got smaller moving away.
All perfectly parallel, all curving downward. All unmoving. They looked like claw marks on the sky from an enormous bear.
Those were on the left. On the right, a regular contrail indicated a plane heading toward one of the local airports, probably Dulles. I could see that trail growing longer, while the others didn't move.
After I got home, I checked the 'net to see if something up above the atmosphere had broken, like a satellite, and was falling down, but didn't find anything.
It was still so weird.
And this was on my mother's birthday. She would have been 111 this year if she were still alive. I miss her every day, though as I get older I get a longer view of her life, seeing how one thing and another influenced her, and how she managed.
But still. Bear claws.
Late but still trying.
Nov. 7th, 2025 02:29 pmThis is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The bones beneath the Earth cry out, and, more than that, the colonizers fear that they will. The hungry crowd the dumb supper table and, more than that, the greedy fear that they will. The chains of slaves clank in the graveyard and, more than that, the slavers fear that they will.
This is the cry that rends the veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The ancestors throb in our blood and the merchants of Lethe try to distract. Our raped grandmothers drag ragged nails across their cheeks and the armies wish that they wouldn’t. Under the earth, dead children scream for their fathers and Wall Street distracts us with sex and beer.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Owls hoot in the darkness and the guilty fear that wisdom. Bats flap against a dark Moon sky and the predators quiver in fear. The innocent of Salem jerk at the end of the rope and the church collects the money.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Samhain is how our ancestors paid for the right to be part of the cycle. Samhain is how they remembered the mighty dead, the miscarried child, the beloved ancestors. Samhain is how they built a bridge to the Isle of Apples, how they ate both the flower and the seed, how they saw a Spring at the end of Winter. May we have their courage.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
The cells of our bodies are a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
May it be so for you.
-- by Hecate Demeter
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The bones beneath the Earth cry out, and, more than that, the colonizers fear that they will. The hungry crowd the dumb supper table and, more than that, the greedy fear that they will. The chains of slaves clank in the graveyard and, more than that, the slavers fear that they will.
This is the cry that rends the veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The ancestors throb in our blood and the merchants of Lethe try to distract. Our raped grandmothers drag ragged nails across their cheeks and the armies wish that they wouldn’t. Under the earth, dead children scream for their fathers and Wall Street distracts us with sex and beer.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Owls hoot in the darkness and the guilty fear that wisdom. Bats flap against a dark Moon sky and the predators quiver in fear. The innocent of Salem jerk at the end of the rope and the church collects the money.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Samhain is how our ancestors paid for the right to be part of the cycle. Samhain is how they remembered the mighty dead, the miscarried child, the beloved ancestors. Samhain is how they built a bridge to the Isle of Apples, how they ate both the flower and the seed, how they saw a Spring at the end of Winter. May we have their courage.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
The cells of our bodies are a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
May it be so for you.
-- by Hecate Demeter
way better than expected
Nov. 6th, 2025 04:15 pmThe last time I went to have my teeth cleaned, I had a terrible time. The hygienist wasn't available, so the main dentist in the practice did it and she was uptight and not willing to give me a break when I needed one -- at least not long enough for me to put in earplugs before she cranked up the drill mechanism (with a polisher on it) with that sound that goes through my head like someone shoving a sword into it and wiggling the sword. I drove home afterward with a splitting headache that lasted for hours.
Today, however, was unexpectedly better. I figured that I needed to account for all the terrible things on my chart from last time, so I told the hygienist and the assistant that I am a musician and have very sensitive ears -- and I showed them the enormous industrial-strength earplugs that I acquired when I worked in a factory decades ago. (I've worn them at rock concerts; they work very well.). So I put in the plugs, and things went well. I saw the main dentist's younger sister, also a dentist, who was way more laid back and friendly, who said my gums were "fabulous" (nobody's ever said that before) and told me to keep doing whatever I'm doing.
And afterward, because the assistant and hygienist were still asking if I was OK, I sang the old song "Peace of the river" for them, and now they're all sure I should have been on stage somewhere, even though I just told them that I used to sing for weddings. That's okay. If someone asks me to sing for a wedding these days, I'll go for something in a lower range than Barbra Streisand's 'Evergreen', which was what I sang at the last wedding I did, some years ago.
Anyway, I'm very relieved that I'm past that and it went so well, and now I don't have to go back till next May. Yay!
Today, however, was unexpectedly better. I figured that I needed to account for all the terrible things on my chart from last time, so I told the hygienist and the assistant that I am a musician and have very sensitive ears -- and I showed them the enormous industrial-strength earplugs that I acquired when I worked in a factory decades ago. (I've worn them at rock concerts; they work very well.). So I put in the plugs, and things went well. I saw the main dentist's younger sister, also a dentist, who was way more laid back and friendly, who said my gums were "fabulous" (nobody's ever said that before) and told me to keep doing whatever I'm doing.
And afterward, because the assistant and hygienist were still asking if I was OK, I sang the old song "Peace of the river" for them, and now they're all sure I should have been on stage somewhere, even though I just told them that I used to sing for weddings. That's okay. If someone asks me to sing for a wedding these days, I'll go for something in a lower range than Barbra Streisand's 'Evergreen', which was what I sang at the last wedding I did, some years ago.
Anyway, I'm very relieved that I'm past that and it went so well, and now I don't have to go back till next May. Yay!
(no subject)
Nov. 4th, 2025 08:53 pmAs a result of umpty years spinning yarn, I have a lot of it sitting in bags waiting for a project.
So, I'm looking for an extremely simple bulky-ish sweater that I can knit with whatever is at hand and reduce the stash a lot.
Suggestions, anyone? It's been so long since I knitted anything but socks that I'm not sure if I even have any patterns.
So, I'm looking for an extremely simple bulky-ish sweater that I can knit with whatever is at hand and reduce the stash a lot.
Suggestions, anyone? It's been so long since I knitted anything but socks that I'm not sure if I even have any patterns.
(no subject)
Nov. 3rd, 2025 12:21 pmI'm not sure how I'm feeling this morning.
We are waiting for an arborist and his crew to take down four trees, trim a fifth tree, and manage somehow to cut back some big vines that are hanging from other trees and look ugly. (I've cut the vines at the base; they're not alive, but just hanging there.)
One of the trees, a mimosa that hangs over the fussy neighbor's driveway, definitely has to go. The fussy neighbor is too lazy to get out a ladder and trim back whatever she wants on her side -- I'm saying lazy because she is three decades younger than I am and has a tall and able son and a tall and able husband. Together they should be able to trim back whatever they want... but no. She'd rather bitch at us about it than do it herself. I don't have a problem with that tree, which is split at the base and going in several directions, coming down.
But we're losing two beautiful wild cherry trees and half of the big magnolia tree because the branches lean over the house. The insurance company wants the roof clear of branches that might fall and damage something. The cherries lean over it from the back, the magnolia extends across it from the front. And there's an ash tree in back that is leaning, and has contracted emerald ash borer. It has to come out before it falls and hits our house or the friendly neighbors' house.
I love our trees, and we've lost so many in the last 33 years, especially the two big oaks. Now more are going down.
At least the weather is kind. The sun is out and the air is warmish.
And for the time being I'll stay here and read my Yuletide source and look for a story.
We are waiting for an arborist and his crew to take down four trees, trim a fifth tree, and manage somehow to cut back some big vines that are hanging from other trees and look ugly. (I've cut the vines at the base; they're not alive, but just hanging there.)
One of the trees, a mimosa that hangs over the fussy neighbor's driveway, definitely has to go. The fussy neighbor is too lazy to get out a ladder and trim back whatever she wants on her side -- I'm saying lazy because she is three decades younger than I am and has a tall and able son and a tall and able husband. Together they should be able to trim back whatever they want... but no. She'd rather bitch at us about it than do it herself. I don't have a problem with that tree, which is split at the base and going in several directions, coming down.
But we're losing two beautiful wild cherry trees and half of the big magnolia tree because the branches lean over the house. The insurance company wants the roof clear of branches that might fall and damage something. The cherries lean over it from the back, the magnolia extends across it from the front. And there's an ash tree in back that is leaning, and has contracted emerald ash borer. It has to come out before it falls and hits our house or the friendly neighbors' house.
I love our trees, and we've lost so many in the last 33 years, especially the two big oaks. Now more are going down.
At least the weather is kind. The sun is out and the air is warmish.
And for the time being I'll stay here and read my Yuletide source and look for a story.
(no subject)
Nov. 3rd, 2025 12:50 amI've been watching 'The Graduate', the early-1970s movie.
It feels like a reconstruction of a lost culture at an archeological dig.
It feels like a reconstruction of a lost culture at an archeological dig.
sign of the season
Oct. 21st, 2025 11:26 amI was going absolutely insane, trying to figure out which of my 50-odd tabs was playing holiday music. Nothing showed up on the tab list. Finally I hit command-option-escape, to list what was open, and discovered that the very nice holiday advent calendar a friend sent me had decided to serenade me. I shut it down; sanity restored.
Dear Yuletide Writer!
Oct. 19th, 2025 11:56 amI am so happy you're willing to write a story for me!
Here are a few notes on the universes, and DNWs: ( behind cut )
Thank you so much, and I hope you have a very happy Yuletide yourself.
Here are a few notes on the universes, and DNWs: ( behind cut )
Thank you so much, and I hope you have a very happy Yuletide yourself.
