Sunday, August 20, 2017

That Flamin' Sword!

. . . among other things, makes for some of the best viewing in the history of my world. Nothing can compare to "The Game of Thrones." A mind has to take hit after hit and then have room for a couple or three more before the theme song cuts you off from an alternate reality. That's how good "GoT" is. I guess you could say, "It got game."

I don't know what else to say, but I'm sure thinking a lot. I must watch it again before I sleep or I'll be awake all night--wondering and filling in my own blanks. So much happened at once my brain in overload mode. I hollered for Daenerys to "hurry up with the dragons, girl!" Then when they came, they . . . They never look around! Silly things! Daenerys, too. But since it's make-believe I won't point out how difficult it is to hit something that size, that far away, with something the size of a spear. Silly writers. And there's no way a big icicle can breach thick, leathery, seasoned, dragon skin.

And that Jon Snow. He has enough lives to match a cat's. The Hound is a big old scaredy cat thing. Stupid, too, for taunting those dead snow walkers. That was the funniest bit of the show. I'm laughing as I write this. And there's Littlefinger. May the fairies help Littlefinger. Such a cunning, sly, creepy, traitor, devil . . . He and Sansa deserve each other, and here I was thinking she'd learned her lesson.  Shucks. "Fire and Ice!" The two will clash and make it rain, those three dragons. Oh my goodness gracious me!


I didn't quite finish the longest letter to be penned by me, yet. But, I've taken another night to finish it finely and with finesse. I say finesse but it will be, only if I can find enough of it. There's very little left in the room where I create. *grin*

I'working on two stories, a stationery portfolio, a mini batch of fold booklets, a semi-large batch of postcards/mail art, and I baked banana bread. I have a hankering for cherry bread too, but that's asking too much of me. I beat the two eggs for the banana bread, set them aside, added the rest of the wet ingredients--that include oil and mashed bananas--to the dry ingredients, and forgot the eggs. Poured the batter into the greased loaf pan, put it in the oven, turned away to clean the dishes. And saw the eggs.

Can't you imagine me sitting at my desk, sipping tea and eating a slice of banana bread slathered with cream cheese while I pen cheerful greetings, glad tidings, and joyful sentences? That's some good banana bread. The batter literally slid from the greased pan back into a mixing bow, took a good blending of beaten eggs, obediently returned to the re-greased loaf pan, slid back into the oven, and here I am. 

The cute little octopus stamp is from Flow too. The star ship isn't actually a ship but a boat. The star fish is incognito. The sea serpent makes for a whale of a tale and the gator is inflatable. So.

I'll finish the last add-ons to the letter before I sleep, but I have lots more to do on this particular project first. Trying different backgrounds keeps me busy, plus there's gallons of fun in it. I earned every moment of dawdling time, too. I repotted the lavender, the one tomato plant to survive two seasons, another little thing that survived the scorch, did a little weeding and watering, and fed the birds their dinner before heading indoors. Hell has cooled a fraction of a fraction of a degree. 

I finally turned my attention to this trio as stated. Oh what fun, right? High fashion, lisle stockings, a straw boater . . .

Bet you didn't think the sisters could do it, huh? Did it too, without even mussing their hair!

I cannot decide! So, a bunch it will be. A mini stack of outgoing awaits my perusal. And there's need of a larger-than-usual envelope to be made from scratch. Thank goodness it doesn't require eggs.

P.S.  Good Catherine, a fun kit is headed your way! There's a clause in the kit giving contract though. If you accept the kit, you must first grace us with a new blog post. It's been idle for far too long. :) Have you stopped reading? Your gab is missing. 

P.P.S.  I still kinda feel sorry for the Hound though. Once burnt, twice shy . . . Well once burnt, twice afraid of fire, but how does he manage to cook? But I hope he learned his lesson and won't go throwing stones at people who live in dead bodies. Too funny, the Hound is.

Okay, gotta go. "GoT" is on again!

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