Jun. 12th, 2017

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I was kind of a lazy piece of shit today but honestly it was glorious. It was 92 today, and brutally bakingly sunny. I spent a solid ten minutes out in the sun, felt a prickling in my skin, and beat feat to the shade, telling Farmbaby that she could keep harvesting wild strawberries on the hill but I was going to be just at the foot of the hill. (I put sunscreen on both her and me, but I still have that inexplicable sun allergy. If I stay in the shade, I’m okay, but it’s not always possible. Ugh.) She understood and was chill, and after another fifteen minutes, joined me. “It’s hot,” she said. 

She then proceeded to effusively thank the Vegetable Manager for telling her that there were strawberries on that hill. (He’d discovered them, and told us we should go look; I’d noticed the leaves but figured they wouldn’t bear fruit, and also wasn’t that confident I’d ID’d them correctly.)

She had a fever of 102 last night, and it kept recurring in little spikes throughout the day. She was so cheerful, and chipper, and would play, with us cautioning her not to overdo it, but then she would demand “snuggles” (and always from her mother), and crash sort of hard for a bit. She never had any temper tantrums or shed any actual tears. She seems to rather suddenly be almost entirely over the years-long phase of having screaming weeping tantrums about things. Not totally, but often. 

She was so clingly. But Sister knew that was inevitable, and did not make any serious attempts to get into any tasks. Did some flower harvesting and light weeding, and I did the intermediate herding of Child when she was well enough to allow those things, and then Sister just sat in the shade and let 100 degrees of child cook her organs. Farmbaby took a nap of over an hour pressed against her mother’s chest, in a chair in the shade with the cat melted on the grass next to her.

Meanwhile, Brother-in-Law spent the entire day setting up the swingset his father had sent, unsolicited and without much warning, as a gift. It was lovely, but somewhat unexpected. Farmbaby was an angel; she asked a half-dozen times how much longer it would take, but when firmly and repeatedly told, a long time, she willingly let herself be distracted, for hours on end. 

I did cook dinner. (Sauteed kohlrabi greens and kale with scallions and a little broccoli raab, with a coconut milk and peanut butter sauce, over rice. Bonus: sauteed in a pan that had been used to cook homemade bacon, so it was coated in lard and bacon crumbs.) 

That’s about all I accomplished today. I fucked around on the Internet, but basically read-only. Not productive, but sometimes the brain needs to lie fallow. I didn’t think of much, but I think it was important rest time. We’ll see. 

I am overjoyed, by the way, at having power to the yurt, because 90 degrees with an electric fan in a yurt is actually pleasant. No fan, and you won’t sleep, but a fan means that crucial extra bit of air circulation that takes it from bearable to comfortable.

I’ve taken down the blanket fort and dropped the sidewalls and put up my lace “curtains”. It’s really nice in here now. 
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“Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided. It’s the sound of failure: so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart. The distorted guitar sound is the sound of something too loud for the medium supposed to carry it. The blues singer with the cracked voice is the sound of an emotional cry too powerful for the throat that releases it. The excitement of grainy film, of bleached-out black and white, is the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them.”
- Brian Eno (via plasticwaves)
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Hey anybody missing a fancy pigeon? Yellow band says 723 or 732, green band is illegible, she won’t come close enough to handle, though she’s clearly tame. We gave her some chicken feed and the feral rockdoves who live in the barn are doing courtship dances. I don’t know who to post this to! Repost, bird fanciers?? (at Laughing Earth)
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The Amazons on the set of Wonder Woman (2017)



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