(no subject)

from realta_dubh

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are an Ingrid!

You are an Ingrid -- "I am unique"

( Ingrids have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive )

That's... actually kind of scary accurate.

(no subject)

from realta_dubh

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are an Ingrid!

You are an Ingrid -- "I am unique"

( Ingrids have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive )

That's... actually kind of scary accurate.

feeling fallish

So the nice late summer I was hoping for never really materialized. Boo. I know fall is on time but it feels early this year, despite all of the hullabaloo about climate change. Now, remember, I'm a Californian, so my perception of the seasons might not mesh with anyone else's, but to me it feels like fall now. I've cranked the heater up a few times in the past couple days, and have been schmoozing around the house in sheepskin slippers, and finally folded away the light afghan I'd been sleeping under and have brought my fluffy comforter out from storage in my hope chest.

Today I introduced Alan (and Morgan) to fifteen-bean soup. Mmmm. Turkey ham isn't _quite_ the same (not as salty), but it was still quite good. Morgan even enjoyed it, though she ate hers with shredded cheddar like Alan. He puts cheese on _everything_. I'm not even joking. Anyone who has ever razzed me about overusing Ranch dressing needs to watch this guy with cheese. Good lord.

I wonder if the trees up Dad's way are turning yet, particularly Morgan's dogwood in his front yard. It hasn't yet blossomed in the spring, though this year it at least had little buds, so here's hoping for next year. We're pretty sure it will be flowering by the time she's old enough to actually remember it.

feeling fallish

So the nice late summer I was hoping for never really materialized. Boo. I know fall is on time but it feels early this year, despite all of the hullabaloo about climate change. Now, remember, I'm a Californian, so my perception of the seasons might not mesh with anyone else's, but to me it feels like fall now. I've cranked the heater up a few times in the past couple days, and have been schmoozing around the house in sheepskin slippers, and finally folded away the light afghan I'd been sleeping under and have brought my fluffy comforter out from storage in my hope chest.

Today I introduced Alan (and Morgan) to fifteen-bean soup. Mmmm. Turkey ham isn't _quite_ the same (not as salty), but it was still quite good. Morgan even enjoyed it, though she ate hers with shredded cheddar like Alan. He puts cheese on _everything_. I'm not even joking. Anyone who has ever razzed me about overusing Ranch dressing needs to watch this guy with cheese. Good lord.

I wonder if the trees up Dad's way are turning yet, particularly Morgan's dogwood in his front yard. It hasn't yet blossomed in the spring, though this year it at least had little buds, so here's hoping for next year. We're pretty sure it will be flowering by the time she's old enough to actually remember it.