Week notes.

Had a lovely lunch with baratron on Monday, talked about a variety of things. We have now randomly had lunch (or some equivalent meal-gathering, I think we actually did dinner before) in each of our respective cities.

Puttered around the city; was sad to find that all the fabric stores I used to go do have gone away. Rummaged through bookstores, came out with books. Am moderately perturbed to realise that I have become a hunter-of-books rather than a gatherer-of-books, and will have to adjust my self-image accordingly. It's likely to be cheaper though, in the long run.

Talked with my mother Tuesday at some length and about various things, including wuxia. Art and symbolism and disentangling meaning I can talk with her about without extreme awkwardness.

It was a good Imbolc today. arawen and I managed to season the roast lamb nicely and, with the long-distance assistance of brooksmoses, cooked it to perfection in the ritual fire. I didn't get bonked as thoroughly with random semi-possessionary stuff as happens occasionally, though I did supply one comment from Someone (not sure Who; may even have been Brighid -- it was a smithcraft metaphor).

And now, since it's about time, I will wait for the traditional appropriate minute to post this.

Whitney will be twenty-seven in twenty-five minutes. And then I will watch the Daily Show.
Von [blacktarrant] says, "Ooh! Happy Birthday, Whitney!"
Tesla [oneironaut] says, "Twenty-seven? When did you turn twenty-six?"
Tesla says, "Don't answer that."
Whitney says, "Uh, about 364 days, 23 hours, and . . . twenty-three minutes ago."
Whitney says, "Actually, 365 days, it was a leap year."
Tesla laughs.