Snacks and Gifts

20 April 2002

Good morning, dear ones. I have been thwarted. Enigma isn't showing here until May. And much though I would like to see my godfather, Rachel and Ben, Zak and Sharon, and so on, it's just not worth driving down to SoCal to see this movie early. Sigh. So instead -- oh woe is me -- Mark and I will be having lunch in Pleasant Hill and heading up Mount Diablo while the flowers are still in bloom. One could argue that this is far superior to sitting in a movie theatre on a nice day, and in some regards, one would be right, but I will point out that my main characters have nothing to do with Mount Diablo whatsoever. One of them is a botanist, though. But the botany available on Mount Diablo is not much like the stuff in Finland, I would think.

The thing that I liked about living near Diablo is that you'd see businesses like "Diablo Day Care Center" -- the best of care for your little devils! Mark was convinced that the mountain was growing bigger every time we saw it. He felt vindicated when we went up it and discovered that it grows three inches a year.

I am skeptical.

I lied to you all about the chili, I'm afraid -- when Timprov and I got to the grocery store, salmon fillets were on such an amazing sale that we got those and cooked them with lemon dill garlic butter. Yum. They also had good cantaloupe, half of which we had for dinner, and Timprov got inspired and made spinach and cream cheese wontons. Which I keep wanting to spell wantons, but anyway they were lovely, and we still have the fixings for more later this weekend. But chili will be had, darnit, and tonight. This is the third night this week I've intended to make chili and not done it. We will Have Chili. There is also a fresh avocado, some artichokes, and strawberries. Also some wild rice. It was an inspirational shopping trip. I love the produce department. I really do.

I finished Finnish Folk Poetry Epic and made some good notes on the NTMB, including a plot element and some detail stuff. And I found an epigraph for the book! I didn't need one, but they're nice to have. They're especially nice to have in the original with a good translation, which I do now, so all is well there.

And! I got my contributor's copies of Analog in the mail! Woohoo! The cover illustration is certainly eye-catching (it's purple and fuschia with a big orange dinosaur), and the illustration for my story is very interesting. And it's my story! Right there, black and white, page 64. I can poke it with my finger. I did poke it with my finger. Mine. I'm not sending anything out to my mailing list until it hits the newsstands -- this is the June issue, mind you, so it won't be out until May. But if you want a copy and can't get Analog at your local bookstore, let me know. I can order them.

Hee. Mine.

As this journal was so useful for the cow question, I have another question for you all: is juice a snack? My mother claims no. I claim yes. Here's my reasoning: if you go to Jamba Juice and get one of their big ol' juices, it's definitely a snack, possibly even a meal. So if you get a smaller thing of juice with less tasty crud thrown in, it's just a smaller snack. Yes? No?

The wrong parent's birthday is quickly approaching. I have specific notes on my dad's birthday presents, written on my "to do" list. Very specific notes. It's a matter of fetching those items, one of which I already have, and getting them to him. His birthday is not until mid-June. My mom's birthday is May 3. I have very little idea what to buy her. In fact, you can read my to do list item on the matter: "Mom bday: card. Unsucky present." And there you have it, folks. I intend to get my mother something for her birthday that will not, in fact, suck. It's not her fault this is difficult. It's the clothing designers who hate women her age who have a sense of style. They want to dress her like she's Onie's age. Sometimes like she's Onie's age and has no sense of color. Argh.

Mark will probably claim that they don't hate her, just as he will claim that they don't hate me when I'm shopping for bras and swimsuits. He claims they don't care. Nonsense. Sheer indifference doesn't cover it. If the building blocks of life could form out of primordial ooze, surely a decent top would show up in a season, out of chance by itself. But they haven't. Malice aforethought.

So. I'll be shopping for Mom. I know it doesn't have to be clothes, and I know that I can buy her books she'll enjoy. I do know that. But they won't make her life much easier on a daily basis, which clothes she could wear to work would do. Thankfully, I have a better idea of what to get for Michelle, whose birthday is coming up faster. But still, birthday shopping is definitely on the agenda.

Other than that...well, not much going on here. Work, some play, good groceries. I'm going to have a morning snack of some white-cranberry peach juice while I read the paper. Have a good day.

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