My Favourite Teacups

Gorgeous teacupsThese shiny gold/ orange firey teacups are my favourites. My Mother and I collect them. We have three full sets (cup and saucer) with this pattern. One is more worn and always makes me feel a little sad. Poor old thing.

This photograph comes from a set for sale on Etsy. I love the photo. It’s hard to take a photo of the glow from the finish/ glaze on the teacups.

We only use these cups and saucers about once a year. Other than that they are kept on a shelf which has a glass door so we can see them. Unlike silver they don’t tarnish so you can leave them out to be seen without having to worry about it. (Silver tarnishes faster when it is exposed to air and sunlight). I guess these cups would eventually fade if they were in full sun, but they are safe in their little corner of the kitchen.

It’s nice having a few special things. I think we tend to gather and collect and keep too much nowadays, myself included. I have far more non-fiction books than I will ever read (unless I discover immortality – even then I’d have to not age while I’m busy being immortal).

Are you Fiction or Non-Fiction?


You Are Fiction


You believe that life is magical, especially when you enter the world of ideas.

You are highly creative and imaginative. The real world often isn’t enough for you.You are optimistic and hopeful. You believe that we craft our own destinies.

You believe that if you can dream it, you can do it. And you do a lot of dreaming.

Survivors

I’m watching Survivors again. Based on a book by Terry Nation (which I can’t find at Chapters). The author is deceased, awhile ago. Was sad to read that. He is also known for creating the Daleks in Doctor Who.

From Wikipedia: Survivors is a British television series devised by Terry Nation and produced by Terence Dudley at the BBC from 1975 to 1977. It concerns the plight of a group of people who have survived an accidentally released plague that kills nearly the entire population of the planet. The programme is usually described as falling into the science fiction genre, and fits into the sub-genre of apocalyptic fiction. It was remade in 2008.

Apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction, from Wikipedia. I still think of it as armageddon, but that’s from playing Carmageddon until it merged with my brain cells.

Apocalyptic fiction is a sub-genre of science fiction that is concerned with the end of civilization either through nuclear war, plague, or some other general disaster. Post-apocalyptic fiction is set in a world or civilization after such a disaster. The time frame may be immediately after the catastrophe, focusing on the travails or psychology of survivors, or considerably later, often including the theme that the existence of pre-catastrophe civilization has been forgotten (or mythologized). Post-apocalyptic stories often take place in an agrarian, non-technological future world, or a world where only scattered elements of technology remain. There is a considerable degree of blurring between this form of science fiction and that which deals with false utopias or dystopic societies.
The genres gained in popularity after World War II, when the possibility of global annihilation by nuclear weapons entered the public consciousness. However, recognizable apocalyptic novels existed at least since the first quarter of the 19th century, when Mary Shelley’s The Last Man was published. Additionally, the subgenres draw on a body of apocalyptic literature, tropes, and interpretations that are millennia old.

Startch on Black Clothing is Not a Good Thing

I know I shouldn’t be wearing black today but it’s what I pulled out from the pile of clothes I should have put away from the laundry this week. I’m about to begin peeling potatoes. If you have done that a few times you know how that statch runs out and gets all over your hands and your shirt, even if you try to be tidy and not wipe your hands on yourself. But, thankfully, we have the washing machine, here and working even now. I try not to take things for granted but when you don’t have something for several months you remember all over again how much you shouldn’t take it for granted.

We are still landscaping. This weekend we are also making dinner for a family get together on Sunday, tomorrow. I don’t mind the cooking and the work, too much. But I do get kind of fed up with being pushed around and having most of my input vetoed, often before I have even finished or hardly begun speaking. Mothers! It must just be a thing with them, a part of never really letting go.

It is funny cause I can still remember years ago (decades of years) when I was in my teens and she began to talk to me as an adult versus a kid. I was so honoured and so self important and felt like I really was a someone. Oh how we have regressed… !

Living with your Mother still has a feeling of not being a good thing. Even if it does help us both out. I do miss having my own place, my own space where things are not randomly and casually moved around. I like finding my toothbrush each morning for instance. That’s another thing you should not take for granted. Sometimes I feel the only way to really keep track of anything is to hoard it all in my bedroom. But it is getting pretty packed in here and I feel trapped with stuff surrounding me. Urrgh.

At least I still have the little things. My nice smelling shampoos which she doesn’t use much, though I leave them out cause I don’t mind if she does. I usually get that tacky shampoo head from using the same shampoo all the time by the time I am halfway through the bottle of shampoo so I’m fine with sharing it. Just lets me have the excuse to buy more, more often.

I have my books too. Though everyone acts like I’ve got a disease when I mention getting a new one. I don’t keep the ones I have read, the fiction ones at least. But, even I admit the pile of nonfiction books is pretty huge and I haven’t read most of them. I do seem to collect them like dust bunnies.

Well, enough babbling. I have to get to potatoes for that potato salad. Party on.

The Book Reading Meme

I’m starting to feel like something alive again.

Here is a meme about books which came from The Road I’m Traveling to Word Grrls. But Word Grrls isn’t going to be a personal blog so I’d rather not run memes on it.

The rules for the meme:

“Open the book closest to you, not your favorite or most intellectual book, but the book closest to you at the moment, to page 56. Write out the fifth sentence, as well as two to five sentences following there.”

The book closest to me right now is the one I just started reading this morning. I have been waiting (impatiently) for the next in her series to come out in paperback. It’s from Kelley Armstrong, a Canadian paranormal fiction writer. Her books are often stuck in the horror shelves though. The title is Personal Demon and I’m not as far as page #56 so this feels a bit like sneaking a peek ahead. Which I do, upon occasion. Usually cause I hate finding out the long, hard way that a character I like is going to come to a bad end. One thing good about not reading standard romance fiction is that sometimes there are bad ends. It’s unpredictable.

The young man grinned. “I believe I can manage.”

“Just don’t talk her ear off. I want you both back by nine. You’re on floor duty tonight. Oh, introductions. Faith, Jasper. Jasper, Faith.”

The Un-Possible Terminator

I’m watching The Terminator, Sarah Connor Chronicles. One thing that keeps occuring to me is that the whole thing is silly. If they can keep going back and forth in time there is no end to it. Even if Sarah and crew succeed in stopping the machines from taking over one moment in time the machines just transport back to another point in time and change history again. It is the never ending story. Kind of crazy. Makes the story pretty off base. I always think science fiction stories should have a backing on facts and things that work/ are possible.