Fingers of Stone, Pool of Clouds (463)

Summertime, and the air was still chilled.  Wispy clouds drifted across the sky.  She shifted the backpack, moving the strap off of the latest sore spot.  Almost there, she thought, and kept her eyes down on the path in front of her. No sense in slipping and breaking something now – the top would be there when she got there.

The fingers of stone reached out of the mountain, reaching futilely for the sky.  Between them, the water reflected the deep blue sky, fragments of clouds tissue thin.  Still there.  Always there.

The path leveled out in front of her, and then spread out across the small flat peak.  Now she could look out in every direction, see the swells of land and forest below.  The horizon is so much further away up here, she thought.  At first, she was fascinated by things far away – the forests, the horizon, the trails of clouds.  Slowly, she began to look at closer objects, looking at the path she had come up and then for the one she planned to take back down.

Then, some ways down, she saw the pool, full of blue sky with the bottom stones showing through, calling to her.  Her eyes followed a trail back up from the pool to the top.  Yes, it was on her path down, and she could stop there to eat and have a drink.  It would be chill, but she was warm enough.

She went down carefully.  There was no sense in slipping now, either.  The pool was quite not as large as it had seemed from the top, but the pillars of stone rose just above her head.  She put her pack down near the water’s edge and looked out to the horizon again, before digging out some food and a cup.

She knelt on a large rock at the edge with the cup in her hand, and found herself staring at the sky still reflected in the water.  Could you drink the sky? She wondered and reached her flat palm out to touch the water, as if to put her hand on a cloud.

The water seeped around her hand in rivulets, winding themselves like fingers, and held on.  She pulled back, and the hand followed.  Tossing the cup to the side, she grabbed at the water with her other hand and pulled hard.  A moment later, her hands were full of skin and hands, rather than water.

She looked at the face she hadn’t seen in so long and smiled.  His mouth opened, as if to speak, but couldn’t find the words.  She pulled him towards her pack and the warm clothes.  “You reached your hand out to me, even while you dreamt in underwater sleep.  How could I not find you?”

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I’m not all wit and nerdery

I’m on vacation, yeah, that’s it … “vacation”.

After writing my Big Post about nasty “jokes” three weeks ago, I’ve been kind of slacking on the really awesome Monday posts (including totally missing one *frown*).  There were ostensible reasons, but I’m going to skip all the blah blah and just say that I’m feeling kind of post-accomplishment blah.  I wrote the Big Post! Two of them!  And finished the Big Project!  And AIGH Holidays!  And YAY new computer!

I’m also feeling a bit of “what next?”.  I both want to keep writing about this idea of Compassionate Humor and feel like I kinda put it all out there in that big post and the one about prepositions.  I’m looking for some new direction, and new contexts

Your dungeon is full of yoghurt.

I may have also spent the last three days immersed in playing the sequel to a video game from my past …  Dungeon Keeper.

Dungeon Keeper is a sort of strategy game about, well, being an Evil Lord and building your dungeon of evil creatures to destroy Good.  I have it on CD, but it’s a bit scratched up and I haven’t had time to really play it in years.

Then someone linked me to Good Old Games, and I discovered that they had several of my favorites from the old days …. Dungeon Keeper (and the sequel, which is new to me), Gobliiins (the mega pack!), and the Incredible Machine (a mega pack as well!).  They’re quite affordable and they run well on my XP machine.

So, the last few days have been filled with silliness, slapstick humor (the cut-scenes in DK are quite amusing if you like slapstick), slapping my minions, slapping chickens.  There was also some out-of-game silliness with my partner (I was just trying to share my brain jews with him!).

It was a good reminder that I like being on the Prankster side from time to time and that’s ok.  I laughed a bit at slapstick and nobody died and nobody’s feelings were hurt.

What kind of humor do you usually avoid but sometimes find fun?

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Sneak Preview – the Handbasket

Hope you all are having a lovely Winter Holiday of Choice!

I finally got the tree up and decorated on Boxing Day, a couple days later than I really like to have that done. However, I’ve had my tabletop tree up for weeks, so it’s all ok.  Also, I got to do my traditional shopping fest on Boxing Day and I did mail almost all the holiday cards early last week.  I’m still missing my favorite part of the holidays, though – sitting on the couch, drinking eggnog, generally just hanging out, enjoying the tree.  Soon!

In the meantime, I wanted to share with you all a little bit of vector art.  I started it before The Teapot, but it’s been slower, because it’s a conversion from a bit of clipart that I’ve had for quite a while.  I’m quite excited about this – I can finally make a larger image on some products!  Because, you know, pixellation looks really bad unless you’re R Stevens.

The Handbasket

You know where this is going, right?

Here’s the original:

The original Handbasket

This is full size. Kinda small, isn't it?

I’m off to Do ALL The Things now, but stay tuned for links to the awesome products this is going to become.

In the meantime, enjoy 50% off on shirts and cards over on Zazzle with code SHIRTSNCARDS.  Today only!

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No Birthday For Julia (1160)

No Birthday For Julia

Julia slipped in the back door, silent like a mouse so Momma wouldn’t hear her.  School was over for the year and she didn’t want to talk to Momma about it.  Tomorrow was her birthday and she didn’t want to talk to Momma about that either.  Somebody else who was way more important was having his birthday tomorrow, too, and she was going to have to share it.  Again.

She was gonna be eight tomorrow, and, well, she wasn’t sure how old baby Jesus was, because he was always a baby at Christmastime.  Their birthdays went together every year, and she got bigger but he didn’t and everybody makes a fuss about babies.  It made it pretty hard to share a birthday with him.

She could hear Momma talking on the phone, probably to Dad.

“… I still feel bad about this, hon.  I know it’s been a hard year and all, but you sure we can’t manage?”

This was parent talk she didn’t want to hear, not the day before Christmas.  Not when she knew it was about presents and the money they didn’t have for them.  Her brother James remembered when they had money for presents – he would tell her sometimes just to tease her.

Like the kids at school.  Most of them had birthdays while it was school time and they got parties and cupcakes for the day.  Her and Rory, though, they had birthdays on the holiday break and so their cupcakes were just the winter holiday party.  At least his was on the 29th, so he got proper birthday presents, not just Christmas ones.  Didn’t stop the other kids from teasing them, and nobody remembered to bring her a birthday card.

Momma was going to keep talking until she thought someone would hear them, and Julia didn’t want to think about how few things were under the tree – just stuff from Grandmom and Aunt Lily.  She hadn’t even put anything big on her list!  So she sneaked the door open again and shut it again, loud so Momma would hear.

“… and she’s home, gotta go, sweetheart.  See you tonight.”

But Julia didn’t want to talk.  She hurried through the house, trying not to look at the tree, and right on up to the room she shared with James.  When Momma called her down, she went and had dinner and made faces at her brother, who pretended to poke her and made faces back at her.  Momma and Dad talked about plans to go visit the family the day after Christmas and Dad’s work, and they were trying to sound happy.

After dinner, Momma asked her about homework.  Her vacation was just beginning, and Momma wanted her to do homework!  It let her be in the kitchen with Momma, who was baking sugar cookies though, so it was ok.  When Dad called her for bedtime, she went up right away, because the sooner she could get to sleep, the sooner she would be eight.  And even if she had to share her birthday, she would get presents for Christmas.

The sun came in the window really bright in the morning, and when she looked out she could see the snow everywhere.  It was on the tree and the roofs and the window ledges and everywhere!  She put on clothes really fast and poked James until he woke up, so he could go outside with her.  She closed her eyes as she went by the living room where the tree was because she didn’t want to see if there were any more presents from Santa.

James and Julia stayed out in the snow and made snowballs and threw them at things until Momma called them back into the house.  She’d made them hot chocolate and there was pancakes to go with it.  After a bit, Dad came in and ate with them.  Then he said, “Did you see, kids?  Santa was here!  Do you want to go open your presents?”

Of course they did.  Even if nobody said happy birthday to Julia, who was eight now.

James got her a little teapot with a sugar bowl, just like she had put on her list, but there weren’t any cups or plates.  She gave him a big hug anyway.  “Maybe Jesus got the cups and plates”, she thought.

Santa gave her some chocolate and pens and erasers in her stocking.  He also got her the pretty pink coat she had put on her list, but not the matching hat.  She put the coat on right away and walked around the room showing it off.  It had been the fanciest thing on her list.  Maybe it was just too much?

Grandmom had sent her socks like always and some pretty shoes, and Aunt Lily sent her a wood toolbox, but there weren’t any tools in it yet.  Someday she’d get them, she was sure, and then she’d build all kinds of stuff.

Momma and Dad gave her a big baby doll, just like she had put on her list, but it didn’t have any clothes or the bottle or anything else.  Momma looked at Dad, and said something really quiet.  Dad looked sadly back at Momma and gave Julia a big hug.  It would be ok, because babies liked not having any clothes on, she was pretty sure.

After opening presents, she and James and Momma cleaned up the wrapping paper and the boxes, while Dad went out and shoveled the snow.  Then they all sat in the living room and watched movies about Christmas on the television and sang along with the songs.

Nobody said happy birthday to Julia, though. Maybe it was something that happened when  you got to be eight … your birthday just got eaten up by baby Jesus. Maybe Momma and Dad and James just forgot.  But there were sugar cookies, so she tried to just say happy birthday to herself.

She was so busy playing with her baby doll that she didn’t notice when her brother and parents slipped off into the kitchen.

“Happy birthday to you …”

And then they all came out of the kitchen together, singing.  Momma was carrying a cake with candles on it and James and Dad were carrying some boxes.  These boxes didn’t look like Christmas presents – they said “Happy birthday!”.  They hadn’t forgotten at all!

She blew out all the candles and they all had cake.  There was ice cream, too.  Then Julia got to open her proper birthday presents.

The first one had a pretty dress in it, that went with the shoes.  Then there was a box with teacups and plates, and a box with tools.  After that, there were three whole boxes with clothes and a bottle and diapers and everything for the baby doll.  Then she opened a box from Santa to find the hat that matched her new pink coat, and Dad looked at Momma a bit funny.  Even Santa had remembered her birthday!

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418 I’m a teapot

A nerd is me!

Earlier this week, a friend linked me to the “HTTP status codes as cats” images.  From the SRS CAT (200 OK) to LONGCAT (414 Request-URI too long) to the kitten inside the computer case (500 Internal Server Error), they are just hilarious.  

I promise, even if you aren’t the kind of nerd who finds web server chatter amusing, you may find the mixture of cat photos and captions to be amusing (or, in some cases, kind of feeling really sorry for a cat on the internet).

I was especially tickled to see that it includes my most favorite of all time HTTP status code: 418 I’m a teapot.

Seriously, it’s a real status code!

Well, ok, it’s a joke status code, from an April 1st joke about the Hyper Text Coffee Pot Control Protocol.  It’s a possible error code, if the thing you’re asking to make you coffee is, in fact, a teapot, and thus cannot possibly make you coffee:

2.3.2 418 I'm a teapot

   Any attempt to brew coffee with a teapot should result in the
   error code "418 I'm a teapot". The resulting entity body MAY 
   be short and stout.

This reminded me, once again, that I find this HTTP status hilarious and that I’ve always wanted to make a bit of art for it.  So, I did:

I'm a teapot

 

Part of me wants to put it up for sale allllll over the place, but I suspect this may well be simply too obscure for anyone to actually buy it (besides me).

If you disagree, leave a comment.

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Late post is late

Late Post is So Very Very Late

Today’s late late post is brought to you by insomnia that kept me up until 6am, amazing brain fog from finally completing and shipping last week the  ~100 page document (10pt font, no illustrations, dense dense text) that I’ve been the lead writer on for the last year and a half, a momentary lack of direction on where to go after last week’s Monday post (which, thank you all for reading and I swear most posts aren’t as pathetic as this one), and the usual holiday dramallama.

Speaking of holiday dramallama:

llama llama holiday drama

This is a real book that is actually for sale for children. Sadly, none of the rest of the series are quite so amusingly titled.

I nearly bought it, but I couldn’t afford enough copies to give to all the people I’ve known who are drama llamas.

Of course, thinking about drama llamas always reminds me of a little bit of work by a friend of mine, the Drama Reduction Act.  It’s a quick read, so make with the clicking.

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