Month: May 2018

HOTM 368 words yesterday

Received MA NT I S from D. yesterday; a fine little book, very nicely made, which is a filk of MAINTAINS, a poem by Clark Coolidge, who also wrote this:

 

Writing is a prayer for
always it starts at the portal lockless to me at last leads
to the mystery of everything that has always been written.

To which I respond:

writing is a place where transience rushes inward to meet the eternal

Childcare for Alex tonight.

Made a nice big batch of oatmeal for breakfast.

cough lightened up overnight

I’ll be pushing vitamin c and fluids; got me a nice cuppa tea and I’m about to put on my creative fire rune and see if I can’t write twenty times as much as I’ve already written this morning!

Dishwasher is running.

Moon kept me awake last night durn moon.

Late this aft I’ll be taking foodicles to Peggy and Tom’s for a musical soiree with SMALL children. Sounds disastrous but the last time I think Ben touched a standup bass for the first time since the twins were born (did I mention they had SO MUCH CUTE) AND he was backing one of my tunes (Clem’s walk). SO anything to provide a chance to get out of the house for tired parents. Also Josie is cute too but in a more quiet and toddlery way.

Was feeling too rotten to see Mike this weekend, but from the sounds of things he was just barely upright himself, so…

Off to HOTM land.

brief thoughts regarding companion animals

If I had a doggo with a headcam I think everybody on the stream would be tired of the LOOMING CROTCH SHOTS (augh, what the hell, dude) within about ten minutes. (My eyes, dude, my everything.)

I have made the bed in the guest room, hung up or put away my instruments, and put my comforter on to wash. I want to hang it up outside but it’s a damnedsilly idea when next door is a noisy dirty and continuous construction site.

We had thought poor Buster was running away, but he hasn’t been. He wants to stay close to his hoomins and notes that while the noise is unpleasant we do not flee. (The whole house shakes, sometimes noisily, sometimes violently, sometimes both.) So he has been sitting under the basement stairs on a pile of cardboard, as insulated as he can be from the noise without getting too far from water, food, litter tray and he can bolt to the exit in less than two seconds if he has to. Soft good Buster. Jeff really didn’t want him leaving the house, although he can leave anytime between 5 am and 8 pm, which are the hours of cat door being open.

He’s a free cat – every day he’s got a cat sized version of Camus’ problem. Too smart to want to kill himself – really seems like a mug’s game to something with the intelligence of a cat – his main philosophical question is should he return to the place that smells like home or leave for more salutory adventures? Fortunately he has been ensorcelled by my scritches and Jeff’s general indulgence so at the end of his daily wanderings – rain and sun – it’s only snow that keeps that cat indoors – he returns to his accustomed perches with every sign that he intends to continue treating us like staff except when we’re extra special wiping his bum or taking him to the Pointy Place, or clipping his claws, which he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself thank you.

crud

as is often the case, I’ve come back from an air trip with some congestion

The sore throat I had for three days (very mild) is gone, but I now have a very low grade fever and I just coughed up something pale green. I suspect this is actually something I carry around with me most of the time that waited until I was really underslept to pounce. Anyway, I’ve been sleeping 12 hours, in two long draughts of sleep, every day since I got back, so I’m pretty sure I’m on the mend.

Now I’m actively glad I didn’t see the little man.

MONDAY IT’S A music night!!!

Se non è vero, è ben trovato is my new “If it ain’t true it otta be” but that’s because it was provided by a Jesuit on twitter.

 

I have published thousands of words of fanfic since I got home. I’ve been writing every day. Today, back to HOTM.

 

Flight delayed

Weather was atrocious – they couldn’t use skyways, I actually walked out onto the tarmac with all my shit and went up a metal rolling staircase… BLOWING mah god.

Uneventful flight. Saw Greenland from the air.

Grabbed a cab, came home.

THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR WAS GONE. That’s right, Harry and Inge’s old house disappeared yesterday. The noise was so bad Jeff was scared Buster would leave home. But he appeared for skritches, and he gave me such a heartfelt look of thanks it was quite wonderful. THEN caught up on the Expanse,

checking out shortly, heading to airport in two hours by bus

now that I know how far Keflavik is from Reykjavik, of course.

Our tour guide outlined everywhere we went on a tourist map of Iceland; I’m going to transfer the info with a pronunciation guide onto a much bigger map.

Last of the postcards in the mail. I will be home long before them of course.

I’m waiting for my computer to be fully charged, and then I’m going to head downstairs to wait for the bus indoors until the last minute. Then I have to cross the street and stand in the wind and rain for a while until it actually comes. Cost of the bus is ten times less than the taxi – but it’s reasonable at least.

Forgot to put the Do Not Disturb on the door so poor housekeeper got flashed, not that Icelanders give a shit about stuff like that. I assured the desk that I took no permanent hurt although who knows about her.

THIS IS ICELAND.

This is just for mOm everybody else ignore it

So I realized in minutes that nobody else on the bus gave a shit about birds (reindeer, foxes, sure) so I quit calling out stuff I was seeing on the bus…  so this is my post about birds. I am a potato photographer so no pics.

On my lifetime list now:

Common wagtail. They are ahem common.

I did NOT see a skua. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a skua. Skuas are fucking ginormous and whatever this was it was much smaller.

Ravens every day.

Northern Diver – saw that one SUPER close, from the bus, under perfect light, breeding plumage like jewels nested on a grey silk pillow.

Waders (they like to sit on posts next to the shore so they were easy to spot)

I saw TWO ptarmigan, once the first day and once the second last day; first one was snow white and the other was coming into breeding colours.

So many arctic terns, including in a nesting area, and man do they squeak.

I never saw a golden plover to identify it but the little fuckers never shut up and are beloved as the Icelandic sign of spring.

Pink footed Goose

King Eider!!!! man you cannot miss those suckers. Those I only saw on the East coast, right on the ocean.

BARROW’S GOLDENEYE they breed in the Lake of Midges and I saw a breeding pair in still water at the side of the road in that part of Iceland. They went by pretty fast but there’s nothing else in the Icelandic bird pics that matches.

so there you go mOm you can start looking at the pics on line.

 

Lost my taste for photos

Realizing that I’d wrecked a borrowed camera took much of the fun out of snapping pics, so I don’t have a lot from yesterday. ALSO IT WAS BLOWING RAINING SLEETING FROM SUNUP TO SUPPERTIME. I stayed on the bus for the Gullfoss and everybody else was back on the bus in minutes. Weather cleared at sunset, as it often does.

After a quiet night in a hotel room I barely slept in, breakfast IN A FULL CONTACT DINING HALL. Apart from the bus staff, we were the only pink (and brown) people there, and so we dozen attempted to get breakfast in a room where there were 150 Chinese tourists, who couldn’t form a buffet line, changed direction constantly so you ran into them constantly, spilled, drop, broke and emptied things and stood in front of various food items interrogating them in Chinese as if comprehension would drop from the sky and in general made me long to return to Vancouver where the Chinese know how to form a fucking queue. Ten people let themselves into the line ahead of me. The bus staff all had that look to them; not even trying for a gimcrack hospitality mask.

As one, we said, “If this is a taste of what Iceland is like in high summer we’re so so so so fucking glad we came in May.”

Spent the rest of the day one step ahead of those three tour buses. We were on the bus by 8:01 since we were so anxious to be out of there. Never ate such an indifferent breakfast so fast. (Still another hour before I get brekky here.)

The black sand beach was beautiful.

Callie Hills made me a cute little wristlet with threads of reflector in it. This item blew off my wrist (see above noted mention of BLOWING) AND THEN FORMED ITSELF INTO A WHEEL AND ROLLED AT ABOUT 10KPH UP THE BEACH, WITH ME IN WILD BUT NERVOUS PURSUIT AS TOURISTS DIE ON THIS BEACH ALL THE TIME. Tour guide says never ever turn your back on the ocean here. At least two of my tourmates watched me do this and when I turned around the buggers were howling, entertained by my abrupt turn of speed.

Just before we got on the beach, it hailed. I said, “Cool, it’s graupel! It only lasts a couple of minutes.” The second it slacked off I jumped off the bus, which made me the first person off the bus ever (I sat in the same seat the whole time, second last seat on the right – WE CANADIANS PICK OUR SPOT AND DIE DEFENDING IT JUST ASK ANY INDIGENOUS PERSON).

The graupel shone in the footprints of previous tourists like diamonds – the sun came out. You have to be ready, aye ready.

Then we drove like hell to a waterfall, and then another one. Then the Thingvellir and then back to Reykjavik.

((Taking parentheticals to abyssal depths.) Shit, somewhere in there was the Geysir. You know how it is, off bus… trudge to tourist trap …on bus …drive to next one. I was in a good mood yesterday, but still, I’m high functioning autistic and a week of two few hours of sleep every night, sensory overload, enforced sociability (I think I managed okay) and I was at a bit of a low ebb, plus I was dreading breaking the news about the camera to Mike (he doesn’t read my blog, which is prob’ly a good thing.))

WHERE WE WENT TO KEX HOSTEL. I’m thinking why is she taking us to a hostel.

CHEAP FUCKING BEER that’s why, first time I saw beer in Iceland south of 1000 krona so yes I had some (I’ve been monitoring my digestion and so far so good but I’m not taking up drinking again in Vancouver, those days are gone) and ARCTIC CHAR WITH PISTACHIOS AND MUSTARD MASHED POTATOES. For half the price of an equivalent meal anywhere else. I’d been meaning to eat char all week and I AM SO FUCKING GLAD I WAITED. mOm it was better than the lightest salmon, fresh, cooked to perfection. And it was HUGE it was an IMMENSE SLAB of clean protein and my body thanked me with every bite. If you’re ever in R. don’t miss it. There isn’t much on the menu but it’s all good.

Today the Saga Museum in the morning, late lunch with a twitter pal I’m meeting IRL, and then THE PENIS MUSEUM. This is R.

Tomorrow a soak in the public thermal pool 12 minutes’ walk from the hotel, then check out and home. I think I’ll be nicely decompressed and ready to go.

Home. WHERE THE SEASON FINALE OF SUPERNATURAL BETTER BE WAITING FOR ME… naw, not really. I am looking forward to the Expanse though….

 

 

later….. no penis museum for me. Met Ger∂ur and she is WONDERFUL she took me to the ONLY SCIENCE FICTION STORE IN ICELAND. But now I have walked for about 1.75 hours today and as charming as this town is in the sunshine I am in for the evening, except to step out and get some pad thai across the street later.

apparently I was checked out of the hotel when I came back. Just paid 139 Euros for another night…. I’ll have a chat with my agent when I am back. It’s possible she told me I was supposed to arrange my own last night, but I don’t think so. and you know

 

I don’t care. Life is fucking awesome right now, even if my feet are singing.

 

safely in room 210 at the Storm Hotel

at 615 I’ll step out and walk to Kex and eat dinner with my tour group for the last time. Really a stellar bunch, and Saga is such a damned good driver I really cannot praise her highly enough.

Today I walked behind a waterfall and got so cold and so wet and a stranger had to help me walk up the pile of cold wet rocks leading to the stairs but it really was rather exhilarating. We saw lots of falls, and the most important part of today was

Þingvellir

which in 930 CE was the site of the first Icelandic parliament. Stirring. Last thing on the tour.

I’m a 5 minute walk from the Phallological Museum.

SHOULD I?

WHAT KIND OF TOURIST WOULD I BE.