"Nobody writes in a vaccuum."
Mar. 9th, 2018 11:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thanateNot that I suppose anybody noticed, but I have rescued my account from random login failure, so perhaps I should post something.
I have been reading Ursula Vernon's Clocktaur War, by which I mean I saved the first book until the e-book of the second was out, and then read them both, and then read them both again, and then have been going back & rereading bits, somewhat hampered by the fact that the e-reader doesn't want to admit that the book exists for some reason. So apparently this was what my subconscious was looking for. Or something.
Meanwhile, my child is passing all kinds of developmental milestones; she's become a great deal more independently articulate in the last several months and is at the point where I have to start explaining rules about talking (or not) to strangers; she's suddenly drawing recognizable stick figure people & coloring in the lines and being concerned about whether there are "right" colors to use. She had a major existential crisis yesterday morning about not having the right color boots to wear, since apparently either light pink or red would have been fine, but dark pink was vastly inadequate. We are trying to teach her that "I hate you" is not the appropriate response to being told she can't have candy/tv/etc, slightly complicated this morning by the fact that nobody in the house is going to argue when her father tried to extend the anti-ad hominem argument to cover the president & she replied, "But he's a doody-head!"
Life goes on. Grauwulf has a couple job offers that sound glorious except for being on the far side of DC & a couple local proto-offers that may or may not be boring as anything, so some conclusion is likely to be reached soon.
I have been reading Ursula Vernon's Clocktaur War, by which I mean I saved the first book until the e-book of the second was out, and then read them both, and then read them both again, and then have been going back & rereading bits, somewhat hampered by the fact that the e-reader doesn't want to admit that the book exists for some reason. So apparently this was what my subconscious was looking for. Or something.
Meanwhile, my child is passing all kinds of developmental milestones; she's become a great deal more independently articulate in the last several months and is at the point where I have to start explaining rules about talking (or not) to strangers; she's suddenly drawing recognizable stick figure people & coloring in the lines and being concerned about whether there are "right" colors to use. She had a major existential crisis yesterday morning about not having the right color boots to wear, since apparently either light pink or red would have been fine, but dark pink was vastly inadequate. We are trying to teach her that "I hate you" is not the appropriate response to being told she can't have candy/tv/etc, slightly complicated this morning by the fact that nobody in the house is going to argue when her father tried to extend the anti-ad hominem argument to cover the president & she replied, "But he's a doody-head!"
Life goes on. Grauwulf has a couple job offers that sound glorious except for being on the far side of DC & a couple local proto-offers that may or may not be boring as anything, so some conclusion is likely to be reached soon.