(no subject)

happy birthday, vurtsnake.

arrrrr!

*

i love him so.

i'm sitting here, idly chatting on irc while boy is administering a lovely foot rub to my poor footsies when someone types out the word "curmudgeon".

and i start wondering aloud about this word, of which we have no known etymology. what exactly is "mudgeoning" and why would we do it to a mongrel dog?

and boy announces: "i'm responsible for it."

i look at him. "honey, it's a bit older than you. heck, you don't even QUALIFY yet."

"oh, but i'm going to go back in time and use it inappropriately, but frequently. and i'll erase all evidence of any possible etymology. thus it will stymie anthropological linguists for centuries to come."

i decide to look it up, along with "cromulent" in the webster's unabridged (our "big" dictionary in the house). along the way, i pass "creeping snowberry."

"WAIT!" he excitedly screams, "THAT is the name of my band. WOW! creeping snowberry!" A few moments pass. "What the hell is a creeping snowberry?"

So i read the definition to him: an evergreen shrub Gaultheria hispidula, of northern North America, having solitary, bell-shaped, white flowers and aromatic, birch-flavored, berrylike, white fruit. Wow, it's a shrub that tastes like a tree. Imagine that."

"Tree-flavored. cool." boy is grinning like a little boy who's just discovered a puddle full of tadpoles, mosquito larvae, and slugs.

A few minutes later, he speaks up again: "now i'm really torn between 'creeping snowbush' and 'release the kraken' for my band name. darn. hrm."

peektures

about one-third of the blossoms greeting me this morning/afternoon.

explodingcat and i ate breakfast, put together some snack mix, and headed off for the blue ridg e parkway for yet another adventure. today we opted for the Bald Mountain Trail. Bald Mountain is no longer bald. In the 18th century, when white scouts moved through this area, the local natives had clearcut the summit to use it as a signal/sentry spo t. Thus, the name of Bald Mountain.

Since it was raining, we didn't take the camera. we didn't know *how* slippery the terrain might get in the rain, didn't want to drop the camera into a gorge. ziplock might protect against water, but not heights. t he walk was gorgeous--nice and woodsy. tons of river birch, yellow birch, maple, oak, rhododendron, balsam fir, and hemlock. some mountain laurel, too. the ferns were starting to dry up where they'd gotten too much sun from a lack of living trees (stan ds of dead trees, dead before this drought, no doubt). other leaves were yellowed, the rhododendrons were curled up. we need more water. :(

part of the hike was along a very old (now abandoned) road. ruts were still visible, even though young hemlock, rhododendrons, ferns, and even some young birch ere making headway. of course, it was chock full of moss and very fine grass and such. it was gorgeous.

after the hike, we stopped at twenty-minute cliffs overlook at took a few pictures.

tom sitting in a little rock niche"
jos scooting closer to the edge of the overhanging rock to see just how far she'd fall before dying (only 70 feet, unless i found luck and got speared by a hemlock).

and then tom decided he was driving home. we stopped at a little gas station/bbq/store outside of nellysford and discovered that it was better stocked with natural/ethni c foods than the local independent health food store (IY in cville). impressive, for the middle of nowhere.

and now i'm getting ready to go out.

ashbet, i've got some pics, though i need to find some better lighting.

hair cascading over my boobs
hair not cascading over my boobs
hair, closer

arrrrr. when boy is done writing, we'll head out to the dawning. woohoo!

oh...

i'm wearing green tights, black fishnets, black two-buckle maryjanes, blue-black-green plaid skirt, black lace shirt, and half-chipped nail polish.