Why io9?

… because, this was posted there today …

io9 – go there and be amazed.

EMEGHERD-STARWARSTRAILER-EMEGHERD

EMEGHERDEMEGHERDEMEGHERD!!!!

:D     :D     :D     :D

It Might Be Spring

Our little cottage on Widder Island smells of fresh baked bread, (I’m thinking of starting an irregular series of posts called ‘Mrs Widds Bakes’!) and fresh cut grass.

The rain has stopped long enough for our front lake to revert to a yard and there’s even bits of blue sky floating among the tumbling clouds. (I do have my doubts about those blue bits though)

There’s a tray of large-cut veggies baking in the oven. (liberally seasoned with our own version of cajun seasoning)

I’ve managed to write a couple’a hundred words for the first book in my ‘Prime Species’ series, Bel and the Knight Whiskey Runners. (aka Lesbians in Spaaaaace)

Bel's Cover Art via Pulp-O-Mizer

Bel’s Cover Art

My lungs are still not up to a lot of exertion or evening air so I’m winding down my day with a smile on my face. (days like this one are to be treasured, savoured, marrow-sucked even, ‘cos who knows what tomorrow will bring)

I wish you a day like today, wherever you are in the world and whatever you are doing. :)

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For your viewing pleasure … courtesy of the folk at io9:

Oliver Queen is an Emotional Douchebag

I get it, I get that he spent five years in hell and is ‘teh feels’ challenged, covered in scars, and tattoos, and stuff.

I get it, but still, if he gives one more woman the come-hither-‘cos-I’m-a-broken-emo-dude, but-go-away-‘cos-you-can’t-have-me, ‘cos-my-enemies-will-kill-you, but-srlsy-I-love-you, so-come-hither shtick, I swear I’ll throw putrescent things at my monitor. (I watch via the interwebz  – no TV)

The TV Oliver Queen that is – I never met the comic one, apart from a vague image from deep within my childhood, of some guy in a camped up Disney-fied Robin Hood costume and a goatee. Who may or may not have even been Ollie.

Let’s do a bit of a flashback – which is something the show does really well by-the-way, it’s like getting two episodes in one. – not that long ago I discovered a fabulous blog called Sourcerer  wherein they do, among many fun stuff, recaps. I watch a lot of TV shows, (too many some might say, but I ignore their squeaky little voices) and reading recaps is a fun way to revisit and recapture the experience, and share opinions with a like-minded community.

The interwebz, cinema, and TV, are crawling with super hero-y stuff at the moment, thanks largely, to Marvel, and every alien and her dawg is getting on board with it. I got hooked by the Iron Man movies and stayed for Agent Carter, (Peggy rocks) Marvel’s newest iteration of the genre.

Like I said I watch a lot of TV and I really didn’t want to add to my list, so I avoided any of the promos, trailers, hype about Arrow. (and by association, the Flash – ‘cos you can’t watch one without the other, it seems)

Anyway, I made the mistake of reading a recap of an Arrow episode on the Sourcerer blog, and before I knew it I was mainlining previous episodes for hours at a time. I know it’s a DC (comics) thing, but a super hero’s a superhero, eh?

I love the show. I love how the Scoobie Gang (Buffy reference – I told you I watch a lot of TV) came together. I love the villains, I love how it’s dark, but with little shiny sparks of lighthearted humour, mostly from Felicity Smoaks. Speaking of Felicity, If Ollie does the come-hither routine with her one more time … well, unspeakable things will happen.

Mind you, I’m only up to Season 3, episode 10, so he still has time to redeem himself.

And that’s the essence of this show really. Redemption. Flawed people doing what they believe is the right thing. Even Ollie. It’s what makes a superhero … and a super villain. Bwhahahahaha

Tissue paper is my secret weapon

Tissue paper is my secret weapon

Slippers, Wheezing, and Solar Powered Cats

My last post, not counting dead people (the Bon Voyage posts) was about how sick I felt and going back to bed. Unfortunately, that rather fierce gentleman and his even fiercer blowing-things-up-object, failed to eliminate the flu-ets and I got even sicker still.

Not being able to get enough air into our lungs taps into the worst primal fears us ‘oomins have.

My cancer treatments from 2013, whilst saving my life, also screwed up my immune system. I admit I’d rather have the flu/bronchitis/flu again/head cold, than be dead, (although at the time it didn’t feel like it) however, a compromised immune system is not to be sneezed at. (I can’t believe I wrote that without even realising the pun until I was editing) One of my tasks this year is to build my immune system up so that come the next Dreaded Lurgy Season I’ll sail through with nary a snuffle, sneeze, or wheeze.

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So, I’m officially almost-healthy, and back at my desk doing more than obits and comments on my favourite blogs.

Without further ado:

… welcome to the people who have started following my blog since the Pseudoephedrine post. Pleased to meet’cha! :D

… I cleared the dross off my desk yesterday and found, wonder of wonders, my writing schedule … a strange desiccated creature I’m hoping to rehydrate with the sweat of my brow. Stay tuned for updates.

… I also came across the pics I took of a project that saved my sanity during my tribulations. Herewith be the Slipper Chronicles:

A ball of wool, a crochet hook, and a PLAN

A ball of wool, a crochet hook, and a PLAN

More wool and an amended plan, same crochet hook

More wool and an amended plan, same crochet hook

Bits and scissors

Bits and scissors

 

A VERY BIG needle - and believe me it hurts when you jam it into your finger

A VERY BIG needle – and believe me it hurts when you jam it into your finger

A perfect fit!

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Because tomorrow is the first day of Spring here in the Northern Hemisphere and it’s STILL raining on Widder Island, in the middle of Widder Lake, in the middle of Widder Rainforest, I thought it would be nice to watch some cats … in the sun.

Bon Voyage Leonard Nimoy

There are going to be all sorts of tributes all over the interwebz, so I thought this one might be a little different.

He will be missed.

Bon Voyage Lesley Gore

You will be missed.