A plug for someone else.

There's a blog I've been following since, hm, last July. It's run by three authors of YA, and they're all crazy. I got there because Robin McKinley linked to them, but one was already familiar because Sarah Rees Brennan keeps recommending her. I've read a couple of her books, but I really prefer the short stories.

Anyway, they're running a contest, now, for an ARC of Tessa's new book, an ARC of which Robin has also received. She reviewed it on her blog, and then laughed evilly because it's not released yet. 9_9 To be entered in this contest, I have to post somewhere about my favorite of their stories, and then link to this post in the comments at their blog. Choosing one is pretty hard; I'm extremely fond of the ones about the paladin, or the one fairy who took over Delaware, the one about the demon bar-bouncer and Brenna's story for the MUGEL THE GIANT illustration prompt. Tessa's Frog Prince story; the MMA one based on a South African story; the one about the young man who shed his skin every New Year. There are dozens. In the end, however, I chose "Wag."

It's Maggie Stiefvater's story for the Hellhounds prompt. It's a bit of a grim warning: the thought is not necessarily what counts, and the road to hell is paved with good intentions. But it's also hopeful: sometimes it matters what your intentions are. Mostly, though, I like it for the loving way the dogs are described.

Turkeys and Krav

The turkey chicks came this morning! Dad ordered them from Cackle Hatchery, and they're all heritage breeds, which means they're old-fashioned types in danger of dying out. Cackle Hatchery has photos of them--and ordering info--here. Eight of ours are the Red Bourbon breed, four are Black Spanish, and five are Blue Slate, though one or two of those might be Royal Palm. It's a little difficult to tell now.

We've put them in the pole-barn. Dad set up a dog run in there weeks ago, with tin sheets around the bottom to keep drafts out and chicks in. They don't work very well in either capacity, so the chicks are enclosed in the standard ring of flattened cardboard until they get too big the get through the chain-link. Yesterday Owen put a tarp over the top to keep the cats out, and removed the front of the run from where it's been serving as a gate in the larger stock-fence. So they're well established now, and I'm to check on them every hour or so today.



Last night was testing night at Krav. Mom took me, since Dad had a headache, and we got there in plenty of time. I think the taekwondo testing had been earlier in the day; the punching bags had all been moved to the edges of the mat so they no longer divided the room. Nearly everyone there was testing--I think one man, Pat, was there as an ordinary student, and everyone else was testing. Russ and Stacy were there, and Hannah, Laura, Jen, and a woman named Beth were all testing. I think I may have seen Beth last testing; she has red-gold hair in a ponytail and bangs, and is fairly high-level. There were two other people testing at my level: Stan, who partnered me; and a vaguely Asian guy built like a foothill whose name I haven't gotten yet. Mike had him do the chokes when we got to that part of the test.

I have no idea whether I passed or not. We'll find out next week whether I get my yellow sash or not. There was a depressing amount of stuff that was new, or that I hadn't done in far too long. Also Mike was testing us, after we finished with the focus mitts, and he's a bit intimidating, I guess. Very brisk. He teaches the Monday and Thursday classes, and he always starts us out with calisthenics, of which pushups are the mildest. Well, no--the jumping jacks are. I can do jumping jacks in my sleep, though I hope I never do.


Current plan of action says I'm going to Chicago with Mom and Grandma Jane. Tuesday night after Krav Dad lectured me the entire way home on how dangerous Chicago is, how evil people are, why he didn't want me to go, et cetera. Thanks, Dad. I put up with it, though, because I was only getting it because he was letting me go. Anyway, the plan is to leave around my birthday, and I think we'll stay a couple of days before Mom and I take the train home. We're drawing up a shopping list. *g*

There is one threat to my going, though: Lark's in heat. I need to be here to supervise the situation. If she doesn't go back to normal by the time we leave, I won't be able to go, because I'm abandoning her. It's to be the first time I've traveled without her since I got her, too. She's trained to think that "packing" means "road trip," not "abandonment." Well, puppy, I'm used to both meanings; you can learn 'em too.

Golden Retriever, sheltie

Had to get up and get moving, because Philip had assigned housework before the bridge ladies came. I'd vacuumed upstairs and was starting on the bathroom when Stephanie appeared unexpectedly. By the time I was waiting for Syd to come for the lark, Lee was here too--albeit expected. 

It was a pretty good walk. We ran first of all into Jackson and his lady, followed shortly by the woman I'd met just before the second snake; she was accompanied by a man who might have been her husband. The next meeting was under the trees; a(n older) teenager with his sheltie stopped to engage in wary conversation with Lark. After that it was just us. When we got home I came over to Syd's to get some library books; I'd given them to her to take back, but as Philip was retreating into town while the bridge group was here, I took advantage of the opportunity to go to the library. Syd and I decided I might as well take the books back while I was at it. While I was there Syd had a video for me to watch, and then I showed her and Ralph the wedding video. They were pretty appreciative. Then Phil called and said we were leaving in ten minutes. I came home to find him sitting outside.

The library was pretty busy. Beguilement is still not available at East branch, so I found another Loretta Chase and sat down. It wasn't bad, but my favorite is still Mr. Impossible. I think I need to read more Carsington books, though--so far I've only seen two of the brothers catch it, and I know there are at least two more with their own books. Anyway, we ended up checking out and going home for lunch. (Philip had an Ian Banks.)

Larked after dinner. It was pretty cool out, and we weren't the only ones out. The Serious Discussion couple ran into us at the curve by the pond. Lark seemed unusually uncertain about greeting them, though. She was less uncertain about charging off into the scrub on the far side of the creek; there was one very impressive bound straight into the air at one point, as she tried to get a better look at her quarry. Unlike the doe earlier, this quarry turned around. The next I knew of it, Lark was charging out of the scrub, pursued by a coyote. It saw me and did an impressive about-face; Lark promptly did the same and started to chase it. I used the Voice. She came back, without having gotten very far. Possibly she is beginning to take coyotes seriously, although I somehow doubt it. Sigh. After that we didn't meet anyone until passing the couple on their way back, near the gate.

Watched Silence of the Lambs. I guess it was pretty good, but I don't deal with creeps very well.

Episode 6 of Castle: "Always Buy Retail." Mystery: occult. Personal: ex-wife trouble.

Brace of German Shepherds

Quiet morning. Philip went off to get the car serviced and stuff, and then I think he has to take Grandma for her INR. I put off Lark's walk because I thought we were doing the Incline, but I'm not sure when it's going to happen. It's a nice cool day, though, so if it turns out we're not doing the Incline I can just take her out. We might want to beware the kid on the motorbike who's been buzzing around outside for the past two hours or so, though.

Well, it had warmed up quite a bit by the time I found out Philip had done the Incline without me. In the meantime Lark was bouncing off the walls. At three-thirty the sun went behind a cloud, and I seized the moment and took her out. It was nice and cool, too, with a few drops of a rain and a little thunder. That had quit by the time we were almost to the pond, where I met a man with two extremely handsome German Shepherds in hand. Lark came running to me when she saw them (from a safe distance) and growled a very little and one as she tried to convince me to pick her up. I didn't, but the attempt put her head a couple of inches higher than theirs, so she was satisfied to leave it at that until we went on. After that the sun came out, and by the time we got home it was hot again.

Philip and I were talking on the couch, and the conversation, through circuitous routes, ended on Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly. Philip decided that I should watch an episode, and he picked "Our Mrs. Reynolds," episode eight, I believe. I think I like Richard Castle better, if we're talking Nathan Fillion, but it's pretty fun. Especially when you have the XKCD skateboard comics to remember while watching.

After dinner I fell asleep and didn't wake 'till ten. -_-; We cleaned up the kitchen and watched Castle 5, the resurrected case, "A Chill Runs Through Her Veins." They were lucky--the case was only five years old. I think Poirot's was forty.

After that I read the Mary Higgins Clark which has been lying around. Two Little Girls In Blue is suspense, and not much else. The writing is serviceable, with occasional sentences that make you stop and reconstruct them. The suspense is effective, and would make a good distraction if you were waiting somewhere and had nothing else to read; otherwise it's pretty pointless. Also there were too many characters, given a momentary voice and then abandoned, except for a page of two later on. Very few characters were permitted much development. It's pretty much a plot-driven book, with little support from the other elements.

Loldogs again

Lee and Carole this morning. Ran out of cereal.....Took Lark out while Carole was helping Grandma shower. We went up past the Heller buildings, up the slope back there. Mornings are too hot! We got back and then Sid came over to chat with Grandma. She told me the website her brother posts his pictures to. Here's the junior group shot. The man scrapped every single shot with Lark in it.

Reading Beelzebub and listening to Franz. :D Then read Abara.

Cheryl, the INR nurse, called while I was watching FLCL. She made an appointment for Friday at 8 a.m. (I expect Philip'll be conked on the couch) to check Grandma's bloodwork again, and she told me to lower the Coumadin dose to seven milligrams. Also Grandma can take extra-strength Tylenol for pain, twice a day if necessary.

Ah, that's wrong. She called back, after the doctor called, to say that the Coumadin is seven and a half mg six days a week and five mg the seventh day. The doc arbitrarily designated Wednesday. And somebody tells me, after I've been feeding her salad for nearly two weeks now, that dark greens interfere with her Coumadin. Thanks, folks.

Finished FLCL about nine-fifteen. It was good, but something went wrong somewhere, because I never got high. It's exactly the right sort of anime for a high, but.....guess not. Strange. Just as well, I suppose, but still.....

Rereading Komarr.

eye candy

This site. Such lovely large dogs. But, sheesh, when I first found it it didn't have half as much fancy-shmancy code stuff. It was info and photos. It was not video (much) or animations or frames or links to their talk radio interviews.

Oh, dear. This guy can write. Satire, satire.....

Well, my room is once more a shambles, since Mom had me empty the wardrobe. Heh.

They added another chapter of Koukou Debut. Already finished it. Doug's still reading Perfect Girl Evolution, which despite the shoujo tag I'm not reading. I admit it's funny, I just don't want to start it.

We went to town yesterday. I checked out the other three Bardic Voices by Lackey and The Spirit Ring by Bujold. It's kinda funny: in the beginning the plot could become The Tempest--but it doesn't. One of the preventions is the fact that Ascanio is only ten, and I think he was Shakespeare's hero. The other prevention is that I think Author-san took a vow to never have a prince for a hero. And if he's a prince, he can't be young and handsome. Makes things interesting. Thur, the hero, reminds me a bit of Hugo in Heyer's The Unknown Ajax.

Oh, yeah. Utter happiness. Robin McKinley is running a blog. She says her editor gave her the choice between the blog and going on tour, and she has a horror of going on tour. I'll take the blog, thanks. I mean, we love her for her writing, yes? And here we get some of it every day. What could be better? Her address is at livejournal. It sounds to me like Blogger is preferable. She still hasn't taken the first step to getting pictures up, i.e. getting pictures into her computer, so we have to be content with hearing about the hellhounds and Peter. Peter is Peter Dickinson, her husband. He writes fantasy and sci-fi for kids and teens. Drat, that was what I forgot at the library. Besides that July issue of Shoujo Beat. Speaking of which, I got the latest ish yesterday. Aaaaaahh. Yummy.