huggeroftrees: (Heroine Addict)
Never has the excuse "because everyone else was doing it" been more idiotically used. I sweated so much my de-humidifer turned itself on the minute I walked into it's vicinity. My hair is dripping.

I am going to ache like a beast tomorrow. But it was AWESOME. There was hitting of things. And hitting of other things. Basically lots of hitting[1].

[1]The friend holding the pads for me was chanting "Nematodes, Nematodes, Nematodes" as I punched them into oblivion. Little wiggly gits.
huggeroftrees: (Shoebox_Commas)
I need a name/description for the raptor noise that is apparently now my "happy sound".

*boots up the thesaurus*

Not really a croak, it's more of a rasping squawk.

*squawks experimentally*

Hmm. A "Rawk" maybe?

*rawks*

See, that just looks like I threw up.
huggeroftrees: (Heroine Addict)
1. First, spend the previous two days writing a frankly hideous amount of smut to create a foundation of sheer awesomeness.

2. Put on the sexy trousers of swish (slit up to mid-calf) and the shoes of striding out.

3. Strut. (as far as the delicious coffee shop and imbibe some delicious caffeine and a croissant).

4. Strut some more (whilst finishing the delicious caffeine).

5. Follow recommendations to the delightful wee shop of perfect colours and amazing textures of clothing. Discover they have a sale on and most everything is only 10 of your delicious Euros.

6. Try EVERYTHING on.

7. Strut a little, wiggle and boogie in your changing room, accessing that foundation of sheer awesomeness brought about by (1).

8. Enjoy. Especially the textures. These materials are expensive, wallow in it.

9. Buy the best of the stuff.

10. Repeat in all the shops that have the nice colours (this turned out to be 3 out of the whole town, but ce la vie, I knew that going in).

11. Strut some more. Swing those bags of accomplishment.

12. Come home with 2 wedding top options and some more delicious clothes to wear to work.

13. Attempt to strut up two flights of stairs to your flat. Avoid stumbling on your face by mere fortuitous coincidence.

14. End. A Winnar is you.
huggeroftrees: (Shoebox_Commas)
I've done Firefly, DW, SPN and now Dollhouse for [she who shall not be named]. With additional smuttage. Two day's worth[1].

Can I have my brain back nao plz?

[1] It was awesome. I regret nothing.
huggeroftrees: (Shoebox_Commas)
Yesterday it was this Pic:

and a million fanfics were born

Which set off an enquiry into what would happen if Mal had sired a child that night with Saffron/Yolanda (SPECIAL hell) and if she had been dumped back into his life at the age of 12. So that was an episode sketched out for [personal profile] sweetsyren and an entire afternoon gone.

..."Is anyone going to tell me why my second in command seems to think it perfectly OK to lock my daughter in the airlock without consulting me first?"

~X~


Today I woke up and thought "well, at least I've got that out of my system now."

But no. It's never that easy.

So today was "Donna and Cas and WerewolfDean in NY".

... yeah, I got nothing.
huggeroftrees: (A2A: Pub)
and we did ALL THE TOURISTY THINGS. Which pleased her mightily.

The weather stayed good (i.e. only a wee bit o' soft rain) and there were even moments of being a smidgeon too warm! There was walking and cycling and pottering through town and browsing and eating (lots of tasty eating) and touristing and laughing (she nearly fell off the bike for laughing at one point).

We found the shop with all the "kitchen things that you didn't know you needed until now" and enjoyed both the coffee house of posh and the delicious restaurant of locally sourced produce.

Oh, and one day I must tell you about her new venture, smuggling donkeys on the ferry over to the UK. It's all planned out. Really. There's even a role in it for you, SwissBoy, when she expands into New Zealand.

*flails*

May. 29th, 2011 09:46 am
huggeroftrees: (Heroine Addict)
Woah. Tour-group of tourists with cameras on the Quay outside my window. Feel that perhaps I should have brushed my hair this morning.

3 mins later:
Woman leading tour-goup is gesticulating in my direction and giving a history schpeil. I AM NOT HISTORY. G'WAI!

5 mins later:
Tour-group still there. Cameras are focussing. MOVE ALONG!!!
huggeroftrees: (A2A_Gene Wings)
That entire, rambling, run on speech needs to be iconised.

BEST DOCTOR WHO EVER.
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
All was quiet in the flat but for the tappity tappity of keys. Ficcage was occurring. Ideas were flowing, dialogue was being polished, scenarios were being described and all was well. Until a great wail went up from our beloved author.

"How Do Two People Of The Same Height Hug?!!!"

Oh, there was a wailing and gnashing of teeth. The internet was consulted (did you know there's a WikiHow on How to Hug? No, me neither). And lo, was the beta bombarded with questions. But bless her heart she didn't stumble, she didn't quail. No. She jumped to her feet.

"Person in this house who loves me" she summoned! "Come hither, for a person on the internet that you vaguely know needs us to model some positions." And he did come hither and with the aid of a stool they did model my sketchily described positions until they found one that worked.

And this is why my beta is better than yours. Thanks darlin' And to himself. You guys ROCK.
huggeroftrees: (Heroine Addict)
Today we went to the field again (see how I steal hotel wifi for the purposes of telling you all this?)

It's Cork this time. Wow. Let me tell you. If you're in Ireland, go touristing in Cork. West Cork for preference. There's inlets and rocky outcrops and inlets and teeny little villages tumbling down hills like in Devon/Cornwall and inlets and sun sparkling on ruffled seas and everything.

So far we have found a dog that turned into a cat and back into a dog again*. And a dead thing. Probably a rabbit. Oh, and the Atlantic. Which is AWESOME.

*yawn* Getting up at 6am to sit in a car while someone else drove all this way. Can't complain, but am still tired.

I love the sea. I would marry it if I could. Despite the fact someone has already thought of that


* Oooh, the star thing. Yus. Well. The small animal was in the distance and looked very like a cat (country road, farms, small animals in the middle of the road, must be Ireland). So bets were laid on whether it was a dog or a cat. When we got there it had metamorphosed into a dog.

But it was a cat when we drove back through.
huggeroftrees: (A2A_Gene Wings)
*cough cough, wheeze wheeze, snuffle snuffle etc*

The cold is kicking my arse rather than vice versa. Great fever dreams last night, all Dollhouse infused and weird. But so far it's not affecting my travel too much (I got the 10 past train instead of the quarter past. ah well, still gonna arrive in Crewe on time).

Yesterday I coughed and snuffled my way through the Con and was rewarded by meeting the delightfully courteous Mr Kranz in the hotel bar in the early evening. We kindly offered to show him the way to the pub where he was meeting his mates because he didn't know where it was. Politeness and etiquette and all that, you can't deny a chap access to a pub when he's desirous of a beverage can you? :D

Nice pub as well. Was even showing the Arsenal match.

I get to sleep in my own bed tonight which will be nice! [personal profile] sweetsyren's sofa is comfy but I'm feeling the need for my own precious duvit.
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
I have touristed! You have touristed, he/she/it has touristed. They have touristed.

WE HAVE TOURISTED!!!

There was a World Heritage Site and a Mill (trouble at t'mill?) and a Castle (with a 400 year old yew tree and much phutt phutt-ing at arrow slits) and a very old main street and beer.

And then curry as a reward.

As I fell into bed an exhausted murmur could be heard before the duvet was hauled over one sleepy head.

"I call this day SEIZED!"
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
I've had such a lovely day at the sea-side.

*sigh of happiness*

Scarborough was sunny! SUNNY! It was so sunny that the Australian's posh glasses that automatically tint in bright light cleverly automatically tinted. (I had to squint cos I'm just common)

There was fish and chips on the harbour wall, gentle strolling and admiring the blue of the sea against the red roofs of the town. Apparently Yorkshire seagulls are enormous and EVIL.

I dragged them up the hill to the castle because it had to be done and as a reward for the ascent there was teaching of how to make a blade of grass squeal between the thumbs. The castle was full of history, as you do, but the Australians discovered some random hobbit mounds that were then lain on for the catching of rays. I'm definitely solar powered. The view was amazing from up there, I forget how far you can see! The sea stretched out forever.

Then there was ice-cream and paddling (by me, I didn't force them to experience the power of the North Sea) and then we had to come home. I can report that BOTH were falling asleep on the train on the way home so I count that as a successful day.

And it's STILL light!
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
Violence and running around and short shorts and very fast paced play and wow. I LOVE this game. Only wish I had known this when I was a young un. I'm a bit to old to enjoy getting twatted about the hands/shins by a slab of wood. The sun shone and it was a lovely day. Has been a pretty awesome weekend all round yesterday. One teeny rain shower, but that meant I was forced to stay in and unpack the box marked "photos". Found some from my Masters and our trip to Venice. I'd forgotten any had been taken! Good memories.

Live games are definitely better than tv. There was shouting. Encouragement of course! Though the odd moment of abuse might have slipped out. I blame it on the Hot Thermos of Coffee with a Wee Dram slipped into it.

In the lull, halfway through the second half, I had a terrible urge to yell "YOU'RE A W***ER NUMBER NINE". But I resisted it. Didn't think anyone but me would find it funny.

Oh, and Wexford lost. Of course. Ah well.

This coming week is St Paddy's Day. We get the day off! Currently feeling very Irish.
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
Thanks to Film4 I have spent the afternoon wallowing with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr in An Affair To Remember.

Now I want to lie on a chaise lounge with a blanket on my lap while the man I love terribly and desperately stalks around the room sniping at me and generally being all hurt and misunderstood.

Ah yes, the old ones are definitely the best.
huggeroftrees: (DW_Doctor in the house)
[personal profile] sweetsyren instigated the accent meme. She has now, (through foul means known as mild persuasion) has forced me into doing it also. Listening back, I appear to have produced a hybrid of noise made up of my professional phone voice, common northern accent and the hum from the overclocked unit beside me. Ah well.

Carry on through )

Warning: There is one incident of swearing. In it two swear words are used with strong emphasis. If this is likely to offend, please do not click the audio link.
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
I never got round to finishing my Hogswatch Fluff - mainly due to days being filled with the need to "CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!!!" and "GO CHRISTMAS SHOPPING LIKE A M__ F__ ADULT!!!"

(I'll get it done by New Year I promise)

Anyway. In place of that delightful little gem I bring you this: A collaborative effort from the whole family, our Christmas insanity. With influence from Josephine and Christine-Pullen-Thompson, Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen, P.G. Wodehouse and many, many others. Oh and the Ballet of Cinderella we were watching last night.

Some background: BigSis demanded I entertained her with a story as she prepared the puddin' part of dinner (lunch for you soft southern pansies). I began it in all innocence, but it became corrupted rather quickly. This is the written down version, edited as we went along. Oh, and it's completely un-beta-ed.

For Want Of A Horsebox... )
huggeroftrees: (Heroine Addict)
I'm Spartacus! Ho yus. Despite breath-stealing, appendage solidifying, FREEZING temperatures I have achieved shopping. I have bought ALL THE THINGS. Including a non-existent Christmas cake.

"M&S don't have them" sayeth the Maternal Unit. "Nowhere has them" sayeth she.

Well HA! Cos I found one. And where did I find it? In M&S. So ner! :D

I was also chatted up by a deliciously tall and delightfully cheeky gentleman who was attempting to sell me things. Reader, look askance at me as you will, I bought them. He Was CHEEEKY!!! :D

So, shall we have a ramble about travel? )

Also, there will be Keeley over Christmas. Keeley with a better haircut and good clothes. Keeley on the BBC. This is pleasing to us.
huggeroftrees: (Keeley Eyes)
Wow.

That is really all I can say about that. Though if pressed I could go a little further I suppose. If pressed.

Monday: It has snowed! TH and the students respond in time honoured manner by:
a) Doing little/no work
b) Going for a walk to look at the pretty (including standing on lake until it cracked and marvelling at the 2cm thick ice.
c) Building a 6ft tall phallus complete with testicles.

Tuesday: It has snowed again! TH and the students respond in time honoured manner by:
a) Doing little/no work
b) Complaining about the cold.
c) Building a "Mr T" snowman, complete with mohawk, biceps and medalion. (the snow was wetter and more sculptable).

Students were requested to remove items from the phallus so that it looked a little less realistic. They did so. Snow sculpture was still pretty obviously what it was.

Anyone still reading? )

Oh, and the snow/perfect peace on Sunday meant I finally got the chapter of fic finished that I've been battering at for almost 3 years now. There are no words for the glee. No words.

And now I have wine. And Wifi. A great combination.
huggeroftrees: (A2A_Gene Wings)
At last! My umbilical cord to the internet is reconnected! (Thank you Wexford public library, you beautiful beautiful people).

But before I update you on the interesting highpoints of the week I must first tell you this thing. This wonderful amazing thing.

IT'S SNOWING! In Ireland! Real honest to goodness snow! With the pretty and the white stuff falling from the sky and the pitching and the making of bigfoot tracks through pristine carpets of crunchy squeeky fluff. In conclusion: Snow.

*Remembers not to flood your friends pages* )

Oh, and you have not experienced Romeo and Juliet until you go to the ballet version with an 8-year old two seats down who exclaims in shock and surprise "Juliet's coming back!!!" at that vital moment in the crypt scene. Bless. All the miming with the bottle and the pretend choking obviously went totally over her head. I had to stuff my sleeve into my mouth for a good five minutes to muffle the hysterical laughter so as not to ruin the final death scene. We were still laughing on the way home.

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