radegund: (wine-pansy)
I've been thinking about visibility, and audience, and related matters.

So, out of curiosity, a poll.

[Poll #1545144]
radegund: (Default)
Oh, LJ, I have to confess I've been cheating on you with the rest of the Internet.

It's funny how "I'll just read this one article" can lead to day upon frenzied day of burrowing through ever-proliferating Safari tabs, eyes burning, brain a-whirl. And then I turn around and realise that my friends page, which had been at a manageable skip=100 or so, now won't even display the messages I was last reading because they're more than two weeks old.

So I'm doing something I've never done before, and not trying to catch up. If you'd care to point me at any momentous posts from the last few weeks, that would be great.

I do actually write several LJ posts a day, in my head. They're good posts, too - full of interest, wit, quirk, and so on. It's depressing. I'd be such a great blogger if I ever did any.
radegund: (blue-pansy)
April was about five minutes long, where I was standing.

* Frenzied withdrawal from kitchen in preparation for extension works.
* 38th annual Easter holiday with my hordes of relatives (over 100 at peak).
* Coming home to endure the filth, squalor and chaos attendant upon said works.
* Taking on some paying work (from my mother, admittedly, but still).
* Reapplying to the Arts Council for a Bursary Award to write my novel.
* Going to Reading to stay with [livejournal.com profile] ailbhe and her lovely family, and particularly to attend Linnea's FIFTH birthday party OMG.

We got back on Monday evening (train and ferry FTW, FWIW). I've been doing my best to catch up here, but I won't get to read everything. So if there are any posts you'd like to point me at, go ahead.

While we're at it, have a poll. Classic is good, right?

[Poll #1396188]

Finally, does anyone have a Dreamwidth invite code that they could let me have?
radegund: (Default)
2008 was a relatively tough year, all things considered. But most of the toughness happened inside my head, and I'm not sure how well it shows up from the outside. (Or how well I'd like it to, for that matter.) And in fairness, it doesn't compare with 2005.

[ 2003 | 2004 | 2005 | 2006 | 2007 ]

2008: not as bad as 2005 )
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
Happy things about yesterday? Hmmm. Scanning ... scanning ... scanning ... not coming up with much.

OK, how about this: Paralink didn't prompt Fiachra to vomit within minutes of administration, the way Calpol and Nurofen consistently have over the past while. I liked that.

[For the uninitiated, Paralink is a paracetamol suppository. Niiiiice.]

*************

Right, that's enough Happy Things. Now I'm going to WHINE.

Between the two of them, O and F have been sick for about a month. Sick boys means rotten sleep. After three nights with no stretch longer than 2.5 hours, I am SQUASHIFICATED. Head swimming. Eyes gritty. Voice gravelly. F is now on antibiotics (his first course), so three times a day we have to pin him down and force-feed him (this is not an exaggeration); he screams through the entire ordeal. He's napping at the moment, but I can't join him because O needs me downstairs.

This week would be easier if K weren't ill as well. Oh well. Perhaps tonight will be less apocalyptic.
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
Today followed a night during which my longest stretch of sleep ran from about 2:10 to about 4:30. There were two high points: (1) a hot shower just before we set out for my parents' house for Sunday lunch, and (2) an hour and a half of OBLIVION in my sister's old bed, while other people wrangled my descendants.

Perhaps tomorrow will be easier. I'd like that.
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
(Lord, but I picked the WRONG week to do this meme. Or possibly the right week, if we want to get Pollyanna about it. Didn't manage to post yesterday's Happy Thing last night, because Fiachra went to bed with a temperature, and I was up and down to him all evening.)

Yesterday's Happy Thing was [livejournal.com profile] gothwalk, [livejournal.com profile] inannajones and [livejournal.com profile] olethros's Yule party, which was warm and chilled and mellow and featured lovely hosts, lovely other guests, a particularly lovely five-month-old baby, mulled Ribena, gerbils, not one but TWO toy dragons, and a constant dance to keep Fiachra away from the catfood and gin.
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
I had a very sparse night's sleep last night, and when I woke up this morning I wasn't entirely sure how I'd get through the day. However, something prompted me not to take the path of least resistance and slump at home for the day: I made our shopping list, then brought the boys to a café for lunch before buying the week's groceries, and then we went into town to do some of Oisín's Christmas shopping.

And it was - entirely unexpectedly - great. He has a list he wrote himself, with people's names and little drawings of what he wants to get them, and his ideas are lovely. The weather was unspeakable, so we mostly stayed in the Stephen's Green shopping centre, with a brief foray out to South King Street. We got half the things on his list, and we'll go back next week in drier, brighter conditions to hunt down the rest.

Meanwhile, still on the theme of happy things, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to [livejournal.com profile] chiller and [livejournal.com profile] jinxremoving (today), and a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY to [livejournal.com profile] mollydot (yesterday).
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
(Didn't manage to post this yesterday.)

The day wasn't exactly replete with happy things, unfortunately. But the bit where Fiachra sat in his high-chair eating dinner, and earnestly tugging my sleeve when he wanted more, wearing a look of sheer, concentrated hope, was pretty good.
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
[livejournal.com profile] mollydot tagged me to post every day for 6 days about something that made me happy that day.

Unny spent today on the sofa with a temperature and a series of horrendous, stringy sneezes. This didn't make me happy, but a story/game we told/played in the afternoon did. It involved a monster who lived in a castle, to start with, and a boy called Oisín who turned up in the castle courtyard by magic. There was some free discussion and portcullis action, and then a fight with a dragon (who had a magic secret pocket containing bandages, which it could put over any wound they inflicted), and then they decided to go adventuring together. They went to a nearby mountain range where they discovered a way to get to a "hole world" - get this: a world full of holes that lead to other worlds. (Eat your heart out, C.S. Lewis, Diana Wynne Jones, et al.) Then Oisín faded from the story (bringing him in had been my idea, as it happens), and I was cast as the monster wanting to go to a world of food, but there was a dragon (O) guarding the hole on behalf of a mean monster. The dragon agreed to let me by, but first I had to say a spell to enable him to step aside. He gave me directions to a witch's cave, where I went. The witch (O) agreed to give me the spell in return for a box of strawberries and sweets from the world of food. She wrote the spell down because it was complicated, and I brought it back and said it to the dragon, who let me down the hole. When I got to the food world, I first went to the strawberry stall, and then got directions to the sweet shop, which also sold bread, fish, and brie. And peas. So I filled two suitcases full of various foods, which I then had to lug up the ladder in the wall of the shaft leading back up to the hole world. I caught a glimpse of the mean monster, but I don't think he saw me.

Reading over that, the only bits I'm responsible for are Oisín arriving the castle courtyard and the writing down of the complicated spell. It's the detail I love. And the plotting. Oh, OK, all of it. Gamers please note: he was, to all intents and purposes, GMing me. He is FOUR. I am alarmed (but in that burstingly proud way that probably makes a lot of people want to thump me).

Who'm I tagging? YOU. I'm tagging you.
radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
I've deliberately omitted context here, in case that's not clear! This is for all the pop-culture polls that leave me clueless and bemused :-)

[Poll #1268047]
radegund: (Default)
I've been composing this post in my head for ages now, as I sit up in bed in the small hours listening to Fiachra's breathing and trying to guess whether he's sufficiently conked out to risk putting him down so I can go to sleep. So I'm damn well going to write it, before it gets away from me entirely.

In summary: 2007 began well and ended pretty excellently, but there were some unexpectedly ropey bits in the middle.

[ 2003 | 2004 | 2005 | 2006 ]

2007 )

Book meme

Oct. 1st, 2007 09:49 pm
radegund: (Default)
I seem to be on a bit of an LJ roll these past few days... [livejournal.com profile] micheinnz posted a book meme that I liked.

So I did it )

Read 52, and started a further 11. I've done various LJ book memes over the years, and this is BY MILES the one on which I've read the most titles. I am unreasonably amused by the fact that my natural literary "patch", as it were, is the list of unread books...
radegund: (swans)
A few people have been making this list recently (I think [livejournal.com profile] cangetmad started it), and I'm going to do it because it makes me feel so squirmy and awkward and BOASTFUL and argh.

Five reasons why I think I am a good parent

1. I listen to Oisín. If I'm talking to someone and he comes to talk to me, I give him my attention. If I ask him a question, I listen to the answer. If I don't understand what he's saying, I work hard at trying to figure it out. (This all applied before he learnt to talk, too.)

2. I offer him choices and let him make decisions as often as I deem practical (which is quite often). I try to avoid forcing him to do something purely for the convenience of adults. (Note that this doesn't mean I never try to persuade him to do anything - I suppose I try to gauge which of us would have to "pay" more to give up our preferred option. Obviously, this is a judgement call, but the principle is clear in my mind.) I try to avoid saying "would you like to..." if I mean "you must..." - and if I do say "would you like to...", I try to accept the response.

3. I am on his side.

4. I enter child-space with him. This is important, because before I had him I was never really comfortable in child-space. I lie on the floor and play at being kittens going to sleep. I treat teddy bears with sore heads. I play endless games of Where Unny Gone?, They Called Him Upside-Down Oisín, etc. More often than not, I lead the nursery rhymes at toddler group. I do these things without a sense of ironic detachment. I want him to know that his tastes and interests are just as valid as anyone else's.

5. I ponder my own ingrained reactions and habits of expression, in relation to what they teach him about the world. I go to therapy because I want to minimise the extent to which criticism, perfectionism and self-abnegation are part of his take on life.
radegund: (wine-pansy)
I like [livejournal.com profile] pisica's amalgam of year-end memes, with the irritating questions expunged. I've made some adjustments to her version and added numbers.

[ 2003 | 2004 | 2005 ]

2006 )
radegund: (wine-pansy)
The chaotic state of our house is getting me down. I am suffering from severe Chaos Paralysis. We are progressing, but slowly, slowly, and I feel like curling up in a small ball until it's all sorted. I'm TIRED of serving dinner on the large desk that is shoved up against the piled-high kitchen table, and eating it sitting on a low sofa from which I can just stretch my chin to the table-top, and having to edge everywhere all the time, and having to move smaller furniture around the kitchen every time I want to change task, and only being able to find the limited number of things I knew we'd need within days of the big clear-out and therefore put in accessible places, and not being at all sure where my tax return letter is, which I need before the end of the month, and argh and argh and argh.

So have a meme.

What I was doing... )
radegund: (wet-stones)

I died in the Dungeon of Radegund

I was killed in a dusty armoury by Hfnuala the gelatinous cube, whilst carrying...

the Wand of Sustainability, the Sword of Olethros, the Wand of Cangetmad, the Sceptre of Choral Singing, the Crown of Littleindigo, the Sword of Inannajones, the Sceptre of Dreamvirus, a Figurine of Gothwalk and 148 gold pieces.

Score: 161

Explore the Dungeon of Radegund and try to beat this score,
or enter your username to generate and explore your own dungeon...



I jumped down to the lower level too early - before I got to face Ailbhe the Archdemon :-)

Phrases at which I laughed out loud:

"You quaff the potion marked 'ERISIAN'. It tastes like writing poetry."
"On the wall are carved images of doing things badly."
"You find yourself in a narrow alcove. A wooden sign warns of reading poetry."
"Bones are scattered on the floor in the shape of vegetarian cooking."
"You find yourself in a freezing cold corridor. You hear the sound of urban gardening in the distance."
"Blue Monday seduces you into removing your armour."

Hee hee.

Meme

Jun. 25th, 2006 12:26 am
radegund: (wine-pansy)
[livejournal.com profile] daegaer tagged me for a meme called "Eight Truths". About me, I'm gathering (well, this is LJ).

1. I'm sort of ambidextrous. Not that I can use my hands interchangeably, but I do significant things with each (e.g. writing, drawing, holding a glass with my left; sawing, sewing, playing tennis with my right). I can quite comfortably write with both hands simultaneously, symmetrically out from a central point.

2. Perhaps it's related to point 1 that I have a FIERCE MAD SHARP sense of the centre of my body, by which I mean a notional plane bisecting me vertically. I could draw it on my skin with a pen: a line starting at the crown of my head and proceeding south, taking in nose, larynx, cleavage, navel, etc. in front, and nape, spine, etc. behind. If someone touches me just to one side of this line, it's actually pretty uncomfortable: I have a strong urge to "balance" it by touching the other side at an equal distance. (Perhaps I should draw it on my skin with a pen, come to think of it. Hmmm.) I have a sneaking suspicion that everyone feels this really, since I can't imagine how you could not.

3. I'm one of the least squeamish people I know. Really, seriously not squeamish at all. But I have an achilles' heel: if you rub your eyebrow the wrong way, I will writhe and whimper at you until you stop.

4. I have lots of memories from when I was very small. My earliest is possibly from before I was one (lying on my back, listening to Elton John's "Someone Saved My Life Tonight").

5. I've played Hamlet.

6. My great-great-grandfather was a Count (specifically, a Papal Count). My great-grand-uncle was one of the seven men who signed the Irish Declaration of Independence in 1916, getting shot for his trouble. Two of my great-great-aunts were married to a president of Ireland (same president: his wife died, and he married her sister). These aren't really truths about me, but they are part of a lattice of facts about my family that does overlay my personality to an extent. I am sensitive about this.

7. I've written a total exceeding 220,000 words of four different novels. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I cling to the belief that I am capable of finishing one.

8. An essentially uninteresting set of circumstances in 1999 led to my being able (legitimately) to add "Consultant, World Bank" to my CV.

ETA: It occurs to me that a sufficiently minute knowledge of modern Irish history, plus some rummaging in public archives, would allow you to triangulate the information in point 6 and determine my real-life identity. I'm inordinately amused by this.

B is for...

May. 8th, 2006 10:31 am
radegund: (Default)
I asked [livejournal.com profile] cangetmad for a letter in the alphabet meme, and she gave me a B. (If anyone still wants letters, ask and you'll receive.)

babies, breastfeeding, battles, Bach, bisexuality, brains, Brel, broadband, biodegradability, bed )