Monday, March 31, 2014

((Back to It))

Exactly what it says on the tin.

Thank you all for your well-wishing and prayers.  It's taken me a fair bit, but I think I've finally got a grip on this.  Not to say that for the last month or so I've been lying around doing nothing--I have been doing things--but my emotional stability has been a bit iffy.

Which, bizarrely, translates more to "aggressively not giving a hoot" than to "OMG WOES IS ME".  Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Well, between the effects of time, continuing to work hard, and that amazing feeling that my man has my back--really, there's no feeling like it--I'm back on my feet, mentally.  (That makes me sound like I temporarily went coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs, which I didn't--well, no more than usual--but it's four in the morning and I'd like to see you phrase it better at four in the morning.  So there.)

Hopefully, now that I'm feeling better and his workload at work has resumed its normal levels of near-disaster frantic instead of "OMG WE'RE DOOMED *PANIC!*" frantic, we can get back on the bloggin' horse--put down the eight-legged horse joke and back away slowly or else! *brandishes skillet*--so you may be seeing more regular updates.

They'll probably be profoundly boring updates, the usual round of "what I did today" and so forth, but they'll be updates.  And possibly some reflections on grief and stupid family crap.  And LoA says he intends to answer the question put to him in the last post, when he can spare the candlepower.

I hope everyone's been doing great in the meantime!  Life is and should be good.

Monday, February 24, 2014

((Update))

Thank you for the kind words and prayers.  This is a very rough time for Sigs, as if the last year hadn't been full of the little strokes that eventually fell great oaks.

To be more clear, Sigs got a call over Presidents' Day weekend to inform her that her maternal grandmother had passed away.  During the call, the relative of hers sympathized by saying it must be hard, so soon after her father's passing.

Of course, Sigs had not known about that.  Her father died four months ago, and out of cultish loyalty to the man who had disowned her, her mother and sisters had not bothered to contact her.

I wish she would cry.  I feel like a bastard for saying it, but I wish she would just cry and get it over with.  She's bottling it all up, and the only time it gets out is in nightmares, ones so bad she won't describe them after she wakes up.

If this is the result of her jaunting around the Manosphere--being convinced that women are weak and contemptible, only masculine virtues have any value, and only masculine responses have honor--then I will not permit her to do it again.  People like that, like her father, have damaged her enough.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Rough Going ((OOC))

I'm writing this to explain the long silence here.  This weekend I received some very dismaying news from relatives, and I'm taking the time to process it.

While it would be tempting to bury myself in work and the Internet, I have to face this squarely and deal with it rather than trying to shelve it for later.  The last thing I want to do is distance myself from my husband and baby.

So, posts may be a bit thin on the ground here for a while, and I will probably be absent around the usual places.  I'm not a lot of fun right now, so it'll be no loss.

Don't discount the possibility of LoA turning up, but as for me, I'm going to take a sabbatical for a little while.  Not forever, just until I get my head around all this.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Lard and Other Things

I have twenty pounds of pork fat in my fridge.  The guy I got it from is accustomed to treating it like scrap--he raises pigs organically, butchers them, and sells the pork on shares to locals--so he was surprised.  He sold it to me for twenty-five cents a pound.

It looks pretty good--back fat, doesn't look like there's any gut fat, but at the same time I don't see any leaf fat so we'll see--so over the next few days I'm going to be processing lard.  Two awesome things about lard are that it can be safely stored at room temperature for up to six months, so it won't be taking up so much fridge space, and that its cracklings are fully edible like pork rinds.

If it works well, I might have a business prospect here.  That is, if His Lordship doesn't think it'd be demeaning...

Is it weird that I'm excited about new skills and opportunities?  I've been told I shouldn't be, but you know, I have this habit of not doing what other people want me to do.  I also like to make other people's lives more difficult.  See, if I don't automatically conform to assumptions, it blows the assumptions straight to hell, and then they have to either come up with a new set of assumptions or openly go full retard.

I've noticed that the "full retard" option is very popular these days, by the way.  If it all comes a-tumblin' down, we're probably going to need forty years in the "wilderness", churn through this generation, and then cross the Jordan into the next civilization with a new batch.  I suspect Gen X isn't quite broken of Egyptian thinking enough.

Anyway, lighter note.  Here's some Vivaldi--"Winter", from Four Seasons, in honor of Winter Storm Pax.




How I served His Lordship and the Little Squish on Wednesday:

Made breakfast and washed dishes
Changed, fed, and snuggled the Squish!
Fenris Walkies as needed
Laundry: leftover bath towel I found buried in laundry hamper, new bedsheets, old bedsheets, blankets, baby towels
Bathed Squish
Made lunch and washed dishes
Advance prep for supper
Dusted whole house
Changed sheets on master bed and crib
Plenty of filing still to do...
Made supper and washed dishes

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Books and Housework

So I'm moving slowly through those kids' books.  You'll see in my Reading List that I've only gotten through two of them so far, but things have been busy and I've had to make myself read for at least 15 minutes a day.  It's actually one of my daily chores, so I don't get tempted to skip it.

Once I've been through the entire set of six encyclopedias, I'll issue my opinion on it.  I am mostly favorably impressed so far, though I have encountered issues (as expected).

Anyway, setting yourself to do 15 minutes a day on most things like reading and crafting and long-term projects guarantees you'll find the time in the day to work on it--because everyone's got 15 minutes--and it's just enough time that you get past the "getting started" phase and accomplish something before you put it aside.  (Unless you're reading something by Henry James, in which case you need about an hour per paragraph and that's if you read fast like I do.  The man's an interesting writer, but his tendency to throw these giant sentences at you that go on forever...Product of his time, I guess.)

Here's something pretty to listen to:


What a voice, and what a sad story.  Most people don't know this, but she was briefly married.  Her husband lied to her about his fertility; he had had a vasectomy, but he conveniently forgot to mention it until after the wedding.  She would never have married him if she had known that, because she wanted to have children, and he knew it.  If he had let her go find someone else who shared that desire instead of selfishly defrauding her, maybe she'd still be alive today, singing for her grandchildren.  (She died of complications from years of anorexia, and it weighed in on her even harder after he pulled that stunt.  Having children might have given her an incentive to stop making her body do what it wasn't meant to do, and turn her focus outward instead of inward.)


How I served His Lordship and the Little Squish on Tuesday:

Made breakfast and washed dishes
Changed, fed, and snuggled Squish!
Fenris Walkies as needed
Laundry:  bath towels, pillows
Cleaned master bathroom: shower, tub, toilet, sink
Made lunch and washed dishes
Cleaned spare bathroom: tub, toilet*
Received shipment (see tomorrow's post)
Advance prep for supper
Did a bunch of filing work**
Made supper and washed dishes


* I use the spare-bath tub to wash Fenris.  It doesn't seem quite right to bathe him in the tub in our bathroom, since we use that one.

** ((Now that we've moved again, I'm mercilessly going through all the boxes we had out in storage, and I've discovered a buttload more of old paperwork.  My husband is apparently an obsessive keeper of papers; for instance, he has every credit-card statement he has ever received, and he is 34.  Eighteen years of assorted documentation.  That's what all those boxes were!  I've got a lot of archival destruction to do.))

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Movies and Housework

It was an eventful weekend.  His Lordship apparently felt as domestic as I do, because without my asking, he did a bunch of improvement work and heavy lifting that I really could have done, but he said was "men's work" and sent me to "go fold napkins or paint your toenails or summat".

It's satisfying.  I'm not sure why, but I think it has to do with seeing that he's "bought in" to this life, at least for now.

And...sometimes, when I'm elbow-deep in whatever work I'm doing and Squish starts fussing, he'll go and take care of her (if it's only a matter of cuddling, of course).  I wonder if he knows I can hear him.  He croons at her and calls her affectionate little names, and he gives her kissies.

Just thinking about it, I've gone soggy inside.  But there's no reason you shouldn't be, either, so you can listen to something related:



Now you're all soggy inside, too.  Ha ha.

By the way, the song is from The Court Jester, a movie worth watching if you can get your hands on it.  It's a really fun, goofball comedy that actually makes fun of a fair number of the tropes and conventions of movies like Robin Hood and the other medieval-era swashbucklers of the time.  And it has Basil Rathbone, and proof that Angela Lansbury was once young!  (And, interestingly, a hero who does not have to be Mr. Macho Alpha to be unmistakably a man.  Danny Kaye was good at portraying those.)

Oh, speaking of movies, another one worth watching is Sylvester Stallone's Escape Plan.  It has action, but it is very intelligent, and if that wasn't enough, it has Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jim Caviezel (as a complete psycho), and Faran Tahir (who yet again proves that he can outact everyone while still being a total badass).


How I served His Lordship and the Little Squish on Monday:

Made breakfast and washed dishes
Changed, fed, and snuggled Squish often!
Fenris Walkies as needed
Laundry: new pillowcases, kitchen linens, baby's burp cloths
Set up organizer for bathroom countertop
Emptied expired leftovers and washed those dishes
Cleaned sinks with a good bleaching
Cleaned stovetop
Cleaned outside of dishwasher and checked rinse agent
Paid some bills
Cleaned microwave
Cleaned toaster oven
Made lunch and washed dishes
Sorted some backlogged documents for filing
Advance prep for supper
More filing...
Connected printer to network
Re-installed printer on laptop because Windows 8 is moronic
Made supper and washed dishes
Created new files as needed

Monday, February 10, 2014

Men Who Would Be King

I see, at long last, the end of this silly, irrational farce you have ignorantly called "democracy."  Many of you are beginning to understand and to embrace your vicious, violent nature, to throw up your hands and yield to your animal impulses, and with this delusion of virtue for the masses goes the delusion of self-rule by the masses.

Why, even those who claim to do your bidding, your servants in Congress (what an amusing word, by the bye; "congress" once referred to sex.  Did you expect less than to be "screwed over" by those in it?), have determined to yield up representative republicanism in favour of one king to rule you all by decree.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

Yes, it is true at last.  Your own Congress has determined to permit your Obama to bypass it, to usurp it in fact, and announces openly the intent to abet him in doing.  They will now draft for him those "executive orders" that he desires, and present them to him for his sacred signature--perhaps on bended knee.

O mighty god of hope and change, wilt thou condescend to abuse us?

It is inevitable.  You will have a king, for you are weak and ready to fall.  The question you must ask yourself, then, is whether you will accept this one:

Voraciously consuming your house and all its substance.


Perhaps you will be without a choice.  Half of your population, after all, gave their vote to him, even after all his crimes and malfeasance and nonfeasance.

Oh, of a certainty, many of you hold out hope that you will muster a small army to keep what is yours, when comes the day of open tyranny.  You put your faith in your neighbours--though only so far as to agree that you will slay all comers and not one another; you will give no other concessions in your self-will.  Indeed, some of you believe that you shall live in anarchic harmony with your non-community, for, after all, that is how human beings work, do they not?




And then there are those of you who believe that, when the time comes, your neighbours will happily fall in line behind you and form a new society--with you as the head, of course.  You, who cannot even rule your own wife and must woo or humiliate her hourly into a cheat of obedience, who must forever prove his fitness to her so that she does not seek another, and who must fill her with the "dread" of your dishonourable, inconstant heart...Oh, yes, you are a born leader, you are.


After all, you are a likable bloke.  Surely the other men will respect that.

Some of you claim that you only do this that you may reclaim that civilisation that has been lost in the rise of your current societal disaster--and yet, even as you long for the days of yore, you desire to abandon some of its traditions and principles (but only the ones you personally find inconvenient, of course).  You think you can rebuild or even build anew civilisation, but only if you cast aside "for a moment" those morals and beliefs that impede your glorious victory.  Or perhaps you believe that those past morals are "outdated" and are unnecessary to a great and powerful nation.

It is to laugh.

You mortals and your amusing, historically ignorant conceits...

You think you have the strength and force of personality to lead your neighbours in what forms of righteousness do not displease you to abide, and that you will have a free hand to indulge all your favourite vices when at last, the wicked "gubmint" is no longer hovering over you like the stench of your own flatulence?  And despite that it will in no way resemble your beloved Western Civilisation, you will enjoy the peace and comforts of your modern society?

As always, you see yourselves as through a glass eye, darkly.  You think yourselves strongest where you are, in fact, weakest.  You who comfort yourselves in your nearing reign, do you even understand obedience?  Principle?  Do you live by what you claim to believe?  You who call this Jesus Lord, do you do as he says?

Of course you do not.  Your eyes are set firmly on the Earth from which you will depart in but a few years.  You will no more teach your intended subjects obedience than you do your own family, for you understand it not yourself.  All you will have to hand is fear, a poor harness for the willful, rebellious creature known as Man.  Your life will resemble the savage of the savannah, the savage of the Great Plains, the savage of the inner city--for as goes the king, so goes the people.  He who rules as a brute will rule over brutes.

If you rule, it will be as brief as your life, and one of your "followers" will add to its brevity--as why should he not?  You would do the same; you have already done the same in deposing your alleged Master; he will tell himself as much, and name it a service to the "posse" that he disposed of you who showed weakness, who was less than Alpha.  (For know you not that the alpha wolf is deposed when he becomes weak?  Live as a wolf, die as a dog.)

If you dwell in comfortable anarchy, you will be driven under by the wave of a stronger army, and drown, for they will have what you and your neighbours lack: a common culture, a common purpose. "To live in peace" is not purpose enough; have you learnt nothing from your own history?  Men will more happily unite to take from others than to keep what is their own.  Is not this, in fact, the way of your current society?

Why do you, who have no principles worth practising, expect others to hold to them?  Why do you think others, living in the same sink of depravity as you, will choose righteousness over expediency and acquit themselves with honour to you-ward, to do as you say and not as you do?  Think you they will obey your God any more than do you, who think he will turn a blind eye to your willful, self-centred disobedience?  Do you think their boot-licking obsequies anything more than a means to curry your favour and encourage you to lower your guard to their waiting daggers?

Your self-indulgence and arrogance may grant you the reward of power for a time, but according to your own faith, you will have no rewards awaiting you after you die--and die you will.  Enjoy your moment of glory, for it will be at best but a moment's, and disappear as a candle's flame in the coming wildfire.


And I am the wildfire.  I would be remiss if I did not remind you of it.