Goats.
Damn, I love the veiw from my living-room. I mean, I hate to gloat but... what am I on about? I love to gloat! I could run the 600 Yard Gloat. I could Gloat for my country. I could be the Girl Who Won The Gloating Match Despite Her Broken Leg.
So anyway, the sky is a hazy perlescent blue, and there are just scads of swifts swooping and gliding through the air. There is enough birdsong for 53 standard dawn choruses. Also, there are lots of really dolly yellow light aeroplanes flying around for some reason. No goats this morning, sadly, but they were here yesterday. I dig the goats. Some guy herds them in the field down the ways; I can watch them grazing from my window.
Been a bit under the weather the past couple of days. Some viral thing, not quite worthy of the 'flu title but yecchy enough to keep me indoors with my Spanish lessons. Since I haven't been able to enroll on a course yet, these still consist of doing the excercises from Spanish for Dummies, watching Spanish telly, and translating H***y P***er back into English with the aid of a dictionary. Have you any idea how fed up it's possible to get with H***y P***er? And I haven't even worked my way through the first book yet (groan). I got a Barbara Vine novel in Spanish the other day, but it's a complete non-starter. My vocabulary just isn't wide enough to lift me from the vale of Kid Lit. yet. Gahh. I feel like I'm stewing in juvenility, y'know? Today I was slogging away at H***y P***er and I found my eyes straying towards the Noam Chomsky books. I'm sitting there thinking, "Oooh! I'll just finish this chapter and then I can go and re-read Manufacturing Consent!" What is this-- Bizzaro World?
The only really ungloatworthy thing in my life at present is a slight dearth of Lurid Archive, who has beetled off on one of his maths-related jaunts and won't be back for a few weeks. Blah. Oh, well-- at least I'll have the internet connection to myself. My messageboard has been looking decidedly more healthy since I did away with the Gawdawful popups but it really deserves more time than I spend on it.
Thursday, May 22, 2003
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