The Black Mare

This is just too weird.  Hubby just left to go to a friend's bbq party - on a bicycle.  Mine, to be exact.  One of the guys wants to buy it, and so hubby is delivering it.  I will ride over later on my old Sportster.  I haven't hardly ridden that bike since I gave it to him.  (I don't like the handlebars he put on) 

Anyway, I'm here by myself for a while, but soon I'll have to change out of my shorts & flip-flops, close and lock the house & garage, and go meet him.  He's all worried that I'll forget to bring his helmet with me.  Sheesh.  Have a little faith, dude.  Oh, right, he gets it from his mom.  Nevermind.

Happy 4th, everyone!  ::hugs::

The time has come to confess this: I am wretchedly ill. I have been in sniffly denial for some time, but today it is beyond my power to deny. I was sitting wrapped in a blanket writing fighting scenes (almost as good as make-out scenes!) and I kept thinking 'Must buy milk!'

Eventually I tottered weakly down to the shop.

SHOPKEEPER: Love, I think you've had enough.
SARAH (peers intently at the carton): But this is - I mean, this is milk, isn't it?
SHOPKEEPER: Yes. You've been down here and bought milk three times today.
SARAH: ... Huh.

Some time later, the Durham Lass came home and flopped on the sofa.

DURHAM LASS: I need tea. Do you know, I think if I developed an allergy to tea, I would have to top myself.
SARAH: I am glad you want tea! Let's all have tea! With lots of milk!
DURHAM LASS: Oh, good, did you buy milk?
SARAH: Don't look in the fridge!

Out of pity the Durham Lass has been entertaining me with many interesting historical facts! And I have been contributing to the conversation as well.

DURHAM LASS: Do you know that the ancient Greeks used to make puns with their coinage?
SARAH: My head feels all fizzy!
DURHAM LASS: The Chinese Emperor was buried surrounded by mercury, in an elaborate tomb that may resemble the universe and that is definitely filled with treasure. We can't open it yet, but someday we may have the technology to do so and, er, not die.
SARAH (seriously): If I had a car... I would make it go vroom.

I am not updating to tell people merely that I am sick. That would be very dull for you all! It's also been a while since I made a books post, so I decided to recommend two books I enjoyed recently - and also to make a point connected to both of them.

My friend sluzan and I were having one of those writing days that turn into writing nights and, since it was four a.m. and all, she decided to sleep over. Once in bed, we both broke out books: I was reading Evernight by Claudia Gray and she was reading Northlander by Meg Burden. I went to get a glass of water.

SUSAN: Oh God, not another redheaded heroine!
SARAH: Stop reading my book this instant!
SUSAN: ... I wasn't.
SARAH: ... Oh God.

Look, I've liked many a redheaded heroine. But being a redhead is rare, you guys. And I'm saying this as an Irish person. And the fact it's rare is reflected in that you see an appropriate amount (i.e. few) minor characters with red hair. But redheaded heroines are everywhere! To the point where when I opened Diana Wynne Jones's House of Many Ways and found a redheaded heroine, I winced.

I winced at a Diana Wynne Jones book. Such a thing should not be.

The redheadedness of their heroines aside, these were good books!

( House of Many Ways by Diana Wynne Jones: Books, True Love and Disgustingly Pretty Wizards )

( Evernight by Claudia Gray: Boarding School, Vampires and Blisteringly Hot Make-out Scenes )

So, any book recs for me? Equal romances? Down-to-earth magic? Only non-redheaded heroines may apply. (Unless the book is really awesome.)

Two people alone in a house...obviously wanting to take their relationship further...watching a really bad horror flick?

What could possibly happen?

This chapter is rated FRM.

Forcing His Hand - Chapter Six

I was reading metafandom, as one does, and I read a link from prehistoric_sea about preferences in kinkfic. And also as one does, since I'm also writing kink_bingo prompts, I have my own thoughts about the process. ( Behind the cut, because not everybody wants to read about this kind of thing... )

Plans, plans, plans! I haven't wittered about fic in at least five minutes.

( Plans for that GX series and other prompts discussed... )

Happy Independence Day USA.

The next chapter of You Choose is posted.  Please read and vote. :)

This part rated FRT.

My contribution to the Summer of Giles. Manips, some old, many of them new. 
I still work with my first ever Adobe Photodeluxe 3.0, which is over 10 years old, so I apologize for the poor quality of some pics. I kinda like rough textures myself, but I should really buy an updated version some time.  I do admire the smoothness of the work of some of the other participants.

I've been toying a bit with the thought that the Watcher might come back in a new series, so be prepared for an older Giles in some of the manips. 

Some of them might be considered NOT worksafe.

A sign of unusual discipline? Not at all. Just insomnia which doesn't bode well for my comprehension level later in the day. I tried to go to sleep at around 11:30 last night, might have dozed off at around 12 or 12:30, managed about 3 hours of sleep and spent the last 2.5 fighting off consciousness. My eyes are itchy and puffy and I'm groggy as heck. Need sleep. Fire bad, tree pretty.

It's summer, which means that my husband is thinking about buying a convertible of some sort. We won't. We never do, even though he's been fantasizing about getting one for the past 10 years. The truth is that most convertibles only have four seats, and it would be ridiculous to buy a car that we can't travel in as a family, but he's already taken that into consideration. Although an Audi or a BMW would be his first choices...hmm, no, I guess a Porsche or Mercedes would be first, first, with the Audi and BMW as his more realistic (and sportier) second choices...he's been looking into getting one of those new five passenger removable top Jeeps. I gotta say, I don't really care about status symbols too much. I like what I like, and if it happens to be high end, it is, but I never like something because it's expensive, you know? I'm guessing husband loves the idea of how he'll feel in one of these cars. Successful? Young? The irony is that we could never even drive with the top down, 'cause we all burn like crazy and would turn into a family of cooked lobsters after one trip. I can't even stand the moon roof open in our Chevy, because the sun is always in my eyes. Husband tells me we'd all just have to wear hats. And lots and lots of suntan lotion. Though somehow I doubt his fantasy involves tooling around in a fancy car with his wife and three kids, no matter how much he loves us.

Which brings me to something I was thinking about when I first woke up this morning.

Every time I come across one of these fanfics that has Giles, um, pleasuring himself, I have to laugh. (Ironically was thinking about it before I read your SoG contribution today ladyforash, which, btw, was excellent and does not fall into this category.) Giles is not going to be sitting around getting off to Fanny Hill or Madam Bovary, no matter how intellectual and sensitive he may appear. He's not going to be lighting candles or lying down on a bearskin rug in front of a fire, preparing his favorite scented oils in hopes of a few hours of uninterrupted wanking. Rather, he's gonna pop into his local convenience store, buy the latest copy of Barely Legal or Asian Babes or Jugs, depending on his particular mood or fetish, and then he's gonna go home and jerk off to the dirty pictures just like 99% of all guys on the planet. Men are simple. They are visual creatures, and they likes the naked ladies. Or men, I suppose. Either way, I doubt many would turn the simple act of masturbation into a romantic evening at home, including our wonderful Mr. Giles.

Title:  Best Laid Plans
By: LadyForASH
Rated:  FRAO
Pairing:  Giles and the female of your choice!
Summary:  Giles had plans with his woman.  When that doesn’t seem to work out, he takes matters into his own hands.  :)
Spoilers:  Nothing.  It could be any time, although I pictured his flat in Sunnydale when I was writing it.
Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction.  I own nothing and make no profit.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, wide_rider. This was written for my second and final entry for this year's summer_of_giles

Best Laid Plans

Tonight I eagerly watched the Graham Norton show with Catherine Tate and James Nesbitt *squee*. I may try to youtube this but I'm not sure with how Windows Movie Maker sucks sideways. Anyway, the following is nearly a play by play for those who rather not watch but want the basic lengthy overview.

( Onto the show... )

OMG... Harmony is on Supernatural! I really should watch this show. It's just the sort of thing I like.
I think I'll have another glass of wine then get to capping some.
( As for Doctor Who, while I think its a long shot... )

The story that I originally wanted to do was not finished in time, so, instead, I revamped and lengthed a ficlet I once wrote. I hope that you all enjoy it. 

Title: "Butterflies" 1/1
Author: Lena
Fandom: Buffyverse
Word Count: 610
Warnings: Mention of Character Death and suicidal thoughts
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is God, and I'm just a lowly worshipper. None of this is mine...blah, blah, blah.
Summary: Takes place b/w Season 5/6. The rest of the gang are helping Giles pack up his apartment after Buffy's death. 

OMG! This was just leaked to a small Doctor Who blog and you totally WON'T BELIEVE IT!
( A wardrobe test for the next Doctor...? )

What constitutes a date?

This chapter is rated FRT.

Forcing His Hand - Chapter Five

Yesterday had strong idea for angsty Giles/Buffy friendship with background of kinky G/X, to continue storyline ignited by kink_bingo prompts. Have short fic outlined. Now, which prompt would fit? Rummages through list. Really not thinking breathplay here. Crossdressing? Ha. Hand fetish is not so bad, 'cause there's a lot of stuff about hands there for various reasons. Except, um, for the total lack of sexual contact in an angst-fest about murder and paternalism. And other things. Will move as far as smarm cheerfully, and no further, thus making kink prompts a bit--

Oh snap.

In another sense, the prompt table served its purpose admirably. Because I needed more ideas and more dangling storylines in my head.

Oh snap.

Title: Q&A
Rating: FRAO
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Timeline: S5’ish…basically AU. No Riley, no Dawn…
Synopsis: Giles receives a gentle push in Buffy’s direction.
Notes: Special thanks to my beta reader, wyvernwolf. This story was written for summer_of_giles.

Q & A

Title: Q&A
Rating: FRAO
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Timeline: S5’ish…basically AU. No Riley, no Dawn…
Synopsis: Giles receives a gentle push in Buffy’s direction.
Notes: Special thanks to my beta reader, wyvernwolf. This story was written for summer_of_giles.


Q & A

So that was a day. Nothing worth noting. Things are a bit slow so I'm off for the rest of the week which works for me because I have some house cleaning to do. We've been having thunder storms which is always fun. Unfortunately I'm bored and unmotivated, two things that do not work well together to keep me entertained. I could continue reading an Ashes to Ashes fic I started but the writer insists on writing Gene's accent which annoys me. The story is good, though so maybe I'll stick through it. TV is rather dull tonight. Ghost Hunters is on but I've seen most of them a few times by now and getting bored by it. I guess I'll browse the net for a while. Where's a juicy Jekyll fic when you need one?

This website that we have to use to email daughter has a photo gallery. There are four pics of her. Three are of her back, but one is a close-up of her swimming and she's wearing this great big smile. I'm hopeful this means she's actually happy. I send her a note every night, but it's tough to have no clue what she's up to and how she's feeling. Boy, do I miss her like crazy, even though I've been very busy having fun with the boys. My oldest is thrilled that school is finally over. The change in his attitude from last week to this week is like night and day. He's genuinely happy again.

I took boys for yearly well visit at the pediatrician today. Doctor started asking youngest all sorts of questions--quizzing him on what he'd learned in kindergarten. Then he asked him, "What color is George Washington's white horse?" Son laughed and said "white." Doc then tells older son that a plane carrying Mexicans is flying from Mexico City to NY crashes and asks him where they bury the survivors. Older son says that you wouldn't bury survivors. I was secretly pleased that they got the answers right, cause honestly, I was sitting there thinking, "Hmm...Where would they bury the survivors?" D'oh!

We saw Get Smart yesterday. Older son and I giggled a whole lot throughout, but most of the other audience members did not. S'funny, cause I keep seeing these flicks that I'm really enjoying while I'm in the theater, but the minute I'm home, I can't remember almost a thing about them. What can I say? Silly, light fluff makeses me happy.

Spoke with old teacher friend at length last night. To me, he is still the sun and the moon and the stars, even though I have absolutely no desire to jump his bones like I did in my youth. My husband hates him. Does not see what on earth I see in this guy. Dunno. We just click. Like two peas in a pod. Like two halves of a whole. Like...Yeah, I agree. Enough already. Time for bed.

Buona notte, miei amici!

Today, before Evening Prayer (which is at 5.30), I was treated to a fascinating sight. Our Amish neighbor had arranged to hay our orchard, which is nice because we get a clipped orchard and he gets food for his livestock. So this evening, as the sun lowered in a hot haze, J. was to be seen working his team around and about, with an ancient-looking slant-rake implement currying all the cut hay into rows for the baler. The horses backed and angled and struck forward, fully cooperative, as though the task of haying belonged to them, as though they were on an administrative board of Getting the Haying Done right along with the humans. Then later they were hitched up to the baler, which was equally old and a very faded green-blue color, and drew it along to gather up the combed rows of hay, where the engine formed it into square bales, bound them with string, and spit them along behind one by one. J. was on the ground with a rake; his son stood on the drivetree of the baler, directing the horses.

At dinner C. mentioned that the weather forecast calls for more fricking rain tomorrow and the 4th. One to three inches, flash flooding, yayes. *fingerwave* Story of this entire June.

After dinner I went upstairs, and out the window I saw a large flatbed cart trundling past the house: at the reins was one of J's daughters (I think), two draft horses exchanged for the earlier team. A tall house of hay hid all but the straw hat of her companion, walking along on the other side, and most of her but for a sleeve of her green dress and her bright-white bonnet.

I watched the cart move at its deliberate rattle down the gravel lane; just above, the sun presided, dimpling the greying haze of clouds that will be tomorrow's -- or tonight's -- rain.

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