bunn

Pulling at Loose Threads (805 words) by bunn
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vairë the Weaver (Tolkien), Námo | Mandos (Tolkien), Míriel Þerindë | Míriel Serindë, Oromë (Tolkien)
Additional Tags: Weaving, relations among the Valar, the escape from Death, the Escape from Deathlessness
Summary:

Vairë considers the Fate of Men.

Apparently it was June when I last got my act together to make a post, and since then I have *thought* of many posts, but have made none.

I shall attempt a kind of portmanteau post to cover at least some of the gaps.

It was a baking hot summer, even on the western fringes. The sea was so warm you could walk into it and not really feel any shock.

A great year for sea phosphorescence : I went for a few night swims to look for sea-sparkles: we found a good number, but there was one rather fabulous night when the waves turned visibly blue, and if you ran along the edge of the sand, you made glowing footprints.

And on the way back through the dunes, we found a glow-worm. I'd never seen a glow-worm in real life before. It was very green.

This is a terrible photograph, but I think it's somewhat impressive that I took it as a quick snap on my phone:
( Read more... )

I was going to say something about books I'd read, but I seem to have gone on enough. Perhaps a book-post tomorrow?

Xanadu a story about Finrod Felagund and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Two enchanters meet on a hillside in Somerset. 5,791 words, gen.

I read most of Coleridge's collected letters for this and learned quite a lot about him, and the late 18th century, which is not a period I previously knew much about at all. It was interesting to connect up a bunch of things like the French Revolution and the American War of Independence and the British Empire and the slave trade, with the writing of a poem that do I know well (Kubla Khan).

primer, paint, varnish all done, I've unjammed the autobailer, and I've been for a little row (Turns out I remember how to row, though I did catch a couple of minor crabs). 

Getting her down the hill and into the water was a breeze. Getting her back up was probably no harder than moving the canoe: the Mirror is heavier, but not as long, and the trolley is a lot better designed than the canoe one. 

I went for a paint colour that is described on the tin as 'cream' but it's a very rich and buttery sort of cream. 


Just need to sort the rigging, and the rudder uphaul. oh yes and find some rope for a painter, and a bailer sponge. Then I get to find out if I've forgotten how to sail...

Boat refurbishment websites are full of people with ridiculously high standards and apparently unlimited time and tools. I keep telling myself: she's a battered old Mirror Dinghy from 1972. It doesn't matter if the varnish isn't perfect, the paint has the odd run visible, the rubbing strake has lost a small chunk at the back of the skeg, or that there are scrapes and stains from her chequered history (as long as they aren't bad enough to be unsound, which I *think* they aren't. And if they are, I'll learn!)

The point is to get the boat to the point where I can go sailing this year, not to somehow erase 50+ years of dings and stains.  

I saw two sets of mirror dinghy sails (2x main and jib) advertised on Facebook marketplace locally, so I bought them. The sail numbers are from boats from 1970, but the sails don't look very used, and the sail numbers are not the original vinyl, so either the numbers have been replaced, or the whole sails are newer - though I think they must be from before 2007, since sails newer than that are a slightly different colour. I thought it would be handy to have spares.

I wondered what happened to the boats they belonged to, but the person who was selling them didn't know: she'd bought them to make garden shades out of, and then decided they were too small. 

We have another foster kitty, Star.  She's been helping with the renovations. The smallest adult cat I've ever seen, I think but she has no difficulty at all jumping up into the boat.  She came from a bad situation and has had some immune system issues, which is why she has that scar on her face. We think it's healing up, but it's not a quick process. 

A local Facebook group is currently going nuts about the Appalling Behaviour of the Current Children. The Current Children have flicked balls of mud at a passing car!

Vaguely impressed they are out playing with mud in February, but I can definitely vouch that this is nothing to do with The Horrors of Modern Education, because 50 years ago, I and my friends did exactly this.

Though, so far as I recall, it was summer, because we scooped clay out of a convenient streambed to make our mudballs. The good thing about this was that there was a sort of tunnel that the brambles formed over the stream, so you not only had ammunition to hand, but also a handy escape route far too low, muddy and brambly for adults, in the rare event of the irate motorist noticing the crime in progress, leaping from their car shaking their fist. I think this only happened once.

He's about 11 months, and was rehomed, but his new people decided over the first night(!) that he was too nervous for them, and returned him the next day so he's come to us for a bit of rest and relaxation before trying again. 

He is actually surprisingly friendly when he decides to come out to say hello, but has spent most of his time hiding away so far. 

I have been intermittently drawing things, but have been worse than usual about posting them anywhere. So, here are a few of them:

( Various Arty Stuffs Under the Cut )

I bought a sailing dinghy! It was fifty quid. Pretty sure I'm going to spend about four times that on buying paint and replacing all the ropes. She was born in 1972 so we are nearly the same age.

From what I can see, the wood looks pretty good, but the paint is very tired and peeling, and the varnish has also seen better days. Of course there may be horrors lurking under the paint, but I am optimistic.

( photos )

Yesterday, the rescue came to collect the foster kittens to be neutered, and later they emailled to say that the ops had gone well, but a home had come up, and would it be OK by us if they went straight to their forever home?


I was a bit sad for their mum, Binx, who was clearly unhappy on her own and calling for them, but so it goes for cats. They don’t get to be families for long ( and often don’t want to be).


But! Then the rescue called to say the new home hadn’t worked out and could we have the kittens back? I was delighted. Binx was even more delighted (even if after 20 minutes of wild kitten shenanigans she looked rather less enthusiastic about them).

Right now they are all snuggled up together and she’s feeding them while they all purr. I’m glad they will have at least another weekend together.
I'll try to get some photos tomorrow.