tatjna (tatjna) wrote,

I hurt. It's nice.

So it seems Sunday afternoons suit most people for perving watching of Robin of Sherwood. The DVD has all 12 episodes of the first series on it so it'd probably have to be a two time thing to see the whole lot. My place is not conducive to easy access or to comfortable seating, so I'm wondering if someone wants to volunteer their lounge to be invaded by slavering fangirls and boys from about 2:30 this coming Sunday? We could bring munchie food and blob around like the lazy bums we'd all like to be..

I am kind of stiff and sore from the wood chopping on Saturday. Not so much in the muscles, although my middle back is a bit stiff. Mostly from the large blister in my right palm, the gouges out of my right thumb and the chunk missing from my left knee. Don't you just love the way macrocarpa splits with its brittle, twisty grain? Chop nothing chop nothing chop nothing, then breathe on it and it flies apart at speed in random directions (mainly at your person)? Ah well. I chopped enough so that by the time Mum needs more wood, I will have healed up.

Saturday night was a lot better than I expected it to be. I was expecting the usual flavour of hard dance/lasers/people dressed in black, and to be bored after a couple of hours. Instead the three rooms actually had three different flavours of music, it was a bright happy crowd, and I rolled in at about 5am, sans photos because I was having such a good time dancing that I didn't really take any. And richdrich is exceptionally good company. He was as shiny as I was!

Two hours' sleep later, it was up and off to Palmerston North to hang out with a 9-year-old for the day. This involved watching movies - Bridge to Terabithia - and (for me) sitting in a spa pool till I went wrinkly. Bridge to Terabithia was enjoyable, a kids' movie but interesting enough to keep me engaged. Unfortunately it was Disney, which meant that the subtext/metaphor/whatever was kind of blatant and it lost a lot of its magic due to the 'Oh, so that's what that's supposed to mean' factor. It was emotionally stirring enough to produce an almost-tear. Worth seeing, but only if you're not expecting a sweeping epic, and are willing to tolerate being grabbed by the throat and having obviousness shoved in your face.

Also, I was kind of distracted by the Very New Zealandness of the terrain, in that 'I went to school there' kind of way. Knowing what's over the next hill doesn't help with the suspension of disbelief. Oh well. The price we pay for living in Cheap Pretty Location Paradise, I guess.

The KidTM enjoyed it thoroughly, and it engaged him completely.

As did the pool. ;-)

I also enjoyed the chance to hang out with xhile and do something simple and fun and not-too-demanding on my liquified brain and body.

And about half an hour after arriving home I was in bed and asleep.

This week seems to be all about the lunches. And the early nights.

Also, there is a farm for sale. Because of my in-built penchant for self-flagellation, we are going to go have a look. I know that I can't afford it but looking is fun and dreaming is more fun, and it will make me feel like I'm doing something towards my dream. (I am actually doing something, but shelling out X dollars a week towards a house that I don't get to live in doesn't actually feel like doing something. I want to go measure pasture and check fences and fantasise about fat happy cows. I am a mug)

So, is there hooping tonight?
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