Yeah, so, as days off go, yesterday was so-so. It began well enough. We went to Piedmont Park, not remembering that this weekend was the frelling silly Dogwood Festival, and instead of just sitting and watching birds flit about Lake Clara Meer, we spent an hour or so wandering amongst the hoard of people who'd been drawn out for all the arts and crafts and whatnot. All I wanted was the park. Anyway, afterwards we drove up to Sandy Springs, to the Phoenix and Dragon, because there was a Celtic (read Irish, Scottish, Manx, Welsh) cookbook that Spooky wanted. I finally got a new hematite ring to replace the one I broke way back in 2000 or so. I'd bought it in the French Market in New Orleans many years before, and I still have all the pieces. Anyway, on the way back home, there was too much traffic and I got way too much sun, which left me ill and achy.

The editorial letter for Daughter of Hounds came yesterday, and, for now, the less said about that, the better.

I'd resolved to have a genuine Kid Night last night, as we've almost abadoned the ritual the past two or three months. So, we'd stopped by Videodrome and picked up Star Trek: The Motion Picture and Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (the directors' editions). We ate, meaning to watch the movies next, but I was so woozy from the heat and sun, I dozed off and slept an hour or so on the sofa. Spooky finally woke me, in time to see Dr. Who, and, afterwards, we watched four hours of Star Trek. For all it's flaws, ST:TMP still makes me "oooh" and "ahhh" over VGER. And I think ST:TWOK has held up quite well. We didn't get to bed until after four, and then got up and watched Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit this morning, dragging Kid Night out into the light of day. And now all the fun and games are over, and I must proof "For One Who Has Lost Herself" and Alabaster. I am not in the mood to read me today. Not at all.

My thanks to activistgirl for today's icon. It's cool, and that was very sweet of you.

And I must announce that sovay is my New Favourite Reader, because of the following comment (re: Jimmy DeSade) to the entry I wrote yesterday morning, because sometimes there's nothing on Earth more important than knowing that at least one person understands what I've said:

I love that he's everything from a Gothic monster to a badass antihero to a genuinely tragic figure: the boy who pours brandy for Elgin Murray and the motherfucker who turns out the lights on Tam and Magwitch and the twins, and the prince who comes through the thorns just a little too late; a fall and no redemption. ". . . Between the Gargoyle Trees" is heartbreaking; he is terrible and terribly sympathetic.

And to answer to her question, will there be more Jimmy DeSade stories, well, I've learned never to say never and all that, but I don't intend for there to be. As far as I know, Jimmy went up with that old movie house. It was the kindest ending I could find for him.

Oh, and I've been confirmed for Dragon*Con, my first con since Fiddler's Green in Minneapolis in late 2004. I cannot yet say whether or not Nar'eth shall also be in attendance. We'll just have to see.

The sky is grey today, and instead of 82F, we get 69F with rain.

Anyway. The red pen awaits. But there are three or four memes I've been meaning to do (why not), so I'll likely make more entries, later today.