I’ve learned to hear the rumble long before it comes

 At least once per series, and sometimes once per novel, women in urban fantasy settings have to talk about how wearing black means the bloodstains don't show.  I have now learned the same is true of black cross stitch fabric.  More punk rock?  Less punk rock?  Orthogonally punk rock?  You be the judge.

 

Our local public library sale is currently in full swing, and I will admit that I will miss living this close to a library if only for this.  Though do I really need any more books?  (the answer is no, at least not until I acquire more bookshelves.  Though piles on the floor is a design choice I'm beginning to embrace.

 

So far, I have acquired 16 books from this sale at a dollar a piece.  This haul include

 

5 books I've already read (2 non-vorkosgian Lois McMaster Bujold novels, Texts by Jane Eyre, a copy of Flora Segunda which is one of Delight's favorites and I suspect a secondary copy couldn't hurt and a copy of Melissa Albert's The Hazel Wood)

1 first year latin text book

s book of poems about cats, which includes the Franz Wright poem I have tattooed on my ankle.

a book about raising dairy goats

A Natural History of Latin 
Sarah Hall's The Wolf Border

Malinda Lo's A Line in the Dark 

Ben Blatt's Nabokov's Favorite Word is Mauve (subtitle: what the numbers reveal about the classics, bestsellers and our own writing) 

Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak which I'll admit I don't know why it's on my TBR list

Alice Walker's We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For 

a book of classic fairy tales edited by Maria Tatar

and The Other End of the Leash (subtitle: why we do what we do around dogs)

 

Spark's entering a very solidly dramatic stage of childhood. Not in the sense of causing or creating drama, but in the sense that every feeling must be enacted in a full-body kind of way.   Maybe I mean something other than dramatic.  And I have so much sympathy, I still can't handle disappointment to this day though the process is almost entirely internal and involves a lot of being mad at myself for expecting something different.  I really hope being a kid (or being Spark) is a lot less terrifying than I imagine childhood being. 

 

My mom had a lot going on while she was pregnant with me.   They moved from Boston-area to rural vermont, had only one car my father took to work, she didn't know anyone in the area and her father died while she was pregnant with me.   And that's just all the stuff before I popped out.  And I keep meaning to look into the long term effect of post partum depression on children (that phrase sounds kind of blamey, I'm not sure i mean it like that), but something stops me.

 

We didn't go to the concert tonight, instead it was book sale and thai food and watching a new episode of Brooklyn 99 and playing starbound and general chill-nesss.    And it's too late already again, and I fell down an internet hole of looking at childrens clothes on thredup.  Post, and turn the computer off.