"And This Gift or This Curse I Have Inside..."

Back!

Got recced over at ceanshinythings, v. exciting. For the Nemo/Aronnax fic set.

At any rate, Mum's birthday was exceedingly exciting. The bed & breakfast was a beautiful little place, very, and I had e. e. cummings along in large volumes, and God his war poetry makes me cry everywhere, Lord. There was a puzzle, and Waen and I did the whole thing while Mum read Dorothy Sayers to us, but Waen confesses she is not liking of Ms. Sayers. Still, it was nice. We ate a restaurant, which we haven't done absolutely in ages, but my chicken Marsala was bitter. :) Mum assumes they put vermouth in the sauce. 'Twas not nice. My potato and broccoli, on the other hand... ^____^

To-day we hiked Rickett's Glen, and--GUH. If any of you lot ever come to Pennsylvania, go to Rickett's Glen and hike there. It is the most gorgeousest place in the entire world, word of honour; waterfalls and woods and it snowed so there were icicles all over the stones and the trees and God it was beautiful. So beautiful. I can't even begin to describe it. Of course, Waen and I went on ahead of Mum and da' and went down the wrong trail and were hopelessly lost for a bit but after some hysterics and some screaming and me being a horrible bitch and Waen being absolutely terrified, we got back on the right trail and got out finally, about forty-five minutes after Mum and da', right before they contacted the park rangers. They had lunch (I used all my points at breakfast) and we went back, Mum and da' and I, to hike another trail and see another set of falls, which were equally gorgeous to the previous ones and this was such a beautiful place. Altogether I hiked five hours and fifteen minutes, which I am proud of, and my legs are chapped horridly and I have blisters on my feet. Sad, really.

Waen is reading Moby-Dick, and loves it utterly. She tells me all about it.

I realised on the trip there, however, that the funny thing about this family is that no one's older. I don't know. Waen and I have never used age for anything regarding one another. I wonder if it's because everyone just assumes she's older anyway and I don't correct them. Questionable.

We're not quite done with the Dorothy Sayers mystery. We still have twenty pages to go.

"Will I Wake To-morrow?"

By the way, if anyone will make me an icon with moving text of Archie Kennedy which says, "how do you like your blueeyed boy, Mister Death", the soul of the Soujin in thine, O anyone. Just because I can't make my own icons, being bad at it. Mainly.