misslynx: (Misc - Oh R'lyeh?)
In which everything is better under the sea )

So, this has totally reinforced my desire to get him a copy of Where the Deep Ones Are, which is kind of a mash-up of Where the Wild Things Are and The Shadow Over Innsmouth (thanks to [livejournal.com profile] gesigewigus for the recommendation).

Also, must read up on raw fish safety. My recollection is that if you buy it really fresh, and then freeze it for at least 24 hours before thawing and eating it*, it's supposed to be OK, but I'd want to be really, really sure.

Well, if nothing else, this whole trend has been proof that non-biological parents can and do, somehow, impart traits to their offspring without benefit of genetics. Because he certainly did not pick up the love of raw fish from either of his other two parents... :-)

* ETA: just read a few articles, and it actually has to be frozen for 72 hours, not 24, and specifically at 4°F or lower, which most home freezers aren't capable of. So you pretty much have to get fish that's specifically "sushi-grade", meaning it's been frozen cold enough for long enough to be safe to eat raw. However, tuna appears to be something of an exception, because they live far enough out in the ocean that most of the parasites that can affect fish closer to shore don't ever reach them, so they are far less likely to have any nasties in them. So, if I do ever decide to experiment with raw fish at home, tuna seems like the best choice.
misslynx: (Aidan & me - ravine)
Tonight saw a follow-up to this conversation, as follows:

Scene: The Lynxcub is standing on the stepladder in my kitchen, attempting to wash dishes (by his own insistence - no, I am not exploiting a two-and-a-half-year-old to do my dishes!). He spots a mesh strainer...

Lynxcub: What is dat? With all dose holes?
Me: That's a strainer.
Lynxcub (excitedly): Fish! (He had previously seen a sort of strainer-like thing used for transferring fish between containers in a pet store.)
Me: Yes, you could catch fish with it... (Seeing a golden opportunity to get him out of the kitchen sink) Do you want to go in the bedroom and catch fish with it? We could pretend the green rug is a lake.
Lynxcub (even more excitedly): Yes! Get Fishy*! (runs into bedroom)

I put Fishy on the rug, and he immediately sets about trying to "catch" him with the strainer, chattering excitedly about sushi and "toony fish". Looking for anything else vaguely fishlike, or at least aquatic, that could be added to the game, the only thing I can find is... plush Cthulhu.

Me: How about Cthulhu?
Lynxcub (in an unmistakable "Don't be silly!" tone): Nooooo! Catutu is a monster dat lives under the sea. Not in a lake!

He pauses and looks around curiously.

Lynxcub: Where is the sea?
Me: How about... maybe the bathtub?
Lynxcub (excited): Yes! Dat's where it is!

He grabs Cthulhu and goes tearing into the bathroom. A moment later he returns, grinning happily.

Lynxcub: Dere! Now he's in the sea!
Me: Is he going to sleep there again?
Lynxcub: Yes. Catutu is goin' to have a nice nap.

And lo and behold, there was indeed a Great Old One napping in my bathtub. Thanks to the Cub, the world is now safe.

* "Fishy" is the stuffed fish my cell phone provider sent me one year. Telus is big on sending you strange animals in the mail. Another time, it was a pig, and when when they are not mailing out stuffed animals, they are usually at least sending a annual calendar full of their standard weird/cute animal photos. Any rumours that this is, in fact, the main reason I am a Telus customer will be denied so adamantly as to prove their truth.
misslynx: (Aidan - w/stick)
These are all from today:
  1. Fishing for sushi )

  2. Urban planning, toddler-style )

  3. Lynxcub, junior Cthulhu cultist )
misslynx: (Aidan & me - w/ dandelion)
From [livejournal.com profile] necronomiphiles:

That reminds me that I really, really, really want to get this for Aidan. Well, theoretically for Aidan. Undoubtedly at least partly for me. But some of the reviewers say their kids liked it too, and it would have been great for the junior Cthulhu cultist costume I briefly considered dressing him in this past Halloween.
misslynx: (Default)
So I have now twice biked to a client's place near Pape & Gerrard, which is the longest distance I've done in a single stretch, apart from (I think) that one time I biked from [livejournal.com profile] foxesdaughter's place to Union Station along the waterfront trail late at night. And I've actually found it a pretty decent and enjoyable trek both times.

Although perhaps doing it today, after having had no sleep whatsoever the previous night, was unwise. Stayed up all night working on stuff, most notably finishing scanning a huge stack of portfolio samples for said client's web site (she's a copywriter), that I had to return to her today. Did briefly consider before departing that maybe major sleep deprivation and long bike rides on busy streets do not mix well. Discarded that notion as for the weak. :-) Still, no mishaps. There is nothing like the adrenaline of riding in traffic to make one feel much more awake than one otherwise might.

But contemplating the distance after the fact, it occurred to me to compare via Mapquest how far it was from my place to said client's place, and how far it would be to ride from my place all the way to Foxesdaughter's, as opposed to riding down to Christie station, taking the subway across to the east end, and then riding down from Main station.

Result: distance to client's place, 9.98 km
Distance to chez Foxes, 14.22 to 16.88 km, depending on route taken

That's not that much further... (she says thoughtfully, eying her bike)

Why yes, yes I am completely insane. Thank you for asking.

However, I think I am going to attempt to go to bed at a semi-reasonable hour tonight for a change. Despite having a big project due tomorrow. There is a level of tiredness beyond which you are good for nothing but playing Nethack and correcting people's English submissions on Livemocha, both of which are good low-stress brain candy, but neither of which pay the bills.

. . .

And in a random, semi-related note, I am so, so very happy that the Akiwenzies have returned to the farmers market near me. They are a small family-run fishing business from a Chippewa reserve on Georgian Bay, and they sell both fresh-caught and traditionally smoked fish from there, which is about as local fish as you will ever find in Toronto (I'm not sure I'd want to eat fish caught directly in the Toronto harbour, after all, what with the pollution levels there). They had been away all summer due to building a new smokehouse & fish-processing centre on their land, and last Saturday was their first day back.

I bought a big whitefish fillet from them on Saturday, and had then managed to almost forget it was there, until earlier this evening when I was really feeling the lack of sleep, with a combination of spaciness and unsettled tummy that made me feel like I really needed to eat something super-nutritious, but wasn't sure what, due to lack of being able to think. Then I remembered it, and it was like my whole brain just jumped tracks to "OMG fish fish fish fish FISH NOW FISH PLZ FISH FISH FISH!!!"I had originally thought that piece would do for three meals, but I baked the whole thing and ate a little over half of it in a single sitting, with some bulgur wheat and sauteed spinach (because dark leafy greens are the other thing I crave when tired or stressed).

So, so very good. And not just taste-wise, but in the way that feels like every cell in my body is turning little cartwheels of happiness from being inundated with a tidal wave of nutrients. I can seriously get very euphoric from eating things like that, especially when I was feeling tired or out of sorts before it.

And this is why despite being somewhat vegan-leaning in other respects, I have no desire to give up fish. My body just likes it entirely too much, and nothing else is quite the same. I don't know if it's the omega 3's, or B-12, or whether, as someone in [livejournal.com profile] necronomiphiles once claimed, I am secretly a Deep One. :-) I do dislike the excesses of commercial fisheries, though, and even when buying stuff that makes the sustainable seafood list, there's the whole carbon footprint thing to think about with having it flown in from somewhere near an actual ocean. So being able to actually buy lake fish caught somewhere nearby is incredibly happy-making.

. . .

Oh, and speaking of Deep Ones and related topics, [livejournal.com profile] kettunainen sent me the following link today: Miskatonic Valley Fine Art. All Lovecraft geeks must immediately check it out. Only two statues thus far, but they're really cool. I especially like the one of Shub-Niggurath.

. . .

I think I would like to go to bed NOW, actually. Though realistically I should at least answer a couple more e-mails...


Oct. 29th, 2009 04:28 am
misslynx: (Default)
I really, really want this T-shirt:


(I also really wish people would stop using the absurd term "baby doll" for T-shirts that are cut to accommodate people who happen to have breasts. How about something like oh, I don't know, women's T-shirts? No, that would make too much sense.
misslynx: (Oh R'lyeh?)
Today, I:
  1. Survived a one-shot Call of Cthulhu game with no ill effects except temporary insanity, scars from a shotgun blast to the face, and a deep desire never to see the inside of a cave again under any circumstances (which would probably be less problematic were my character not a professional caving guide). Ironically, I think it was the insanity that saved me, since it made me panic, scream and run like mad for the nearest exit, which all things concerned was probably the most sensible thing I could have done under the circumstances.

  2. Met a dog that had been rescued from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. His new owner had only had him for two weeks, because he was one of the dogs that the rescue organization had had the hardest time placing. Had he not been adopted within a few days of when he was, he would have been put down. He had reacted to the trauma he'd been through by becoming really skittish and fearful of people, so when people came to adopt dogs, he'd shy away from them, and they'd adopt the friendlier dogs instead.

    But this guy adopted him, and after only two weeks in his forever home, he was much improved. He was able to socialize with Kiska while being only mildly jumpy, though he did initially cringe back and growl a little when I offered him my hand to sniff, so I could see why some potential owners might have reacted negatively to him. But when I stayed still, and his owner and I both spoke to him soothingly, he eventually slunk forward and sniffed my hand and tentatively wagged his tail a little. He seemed like a nice dog, just one who'd been through some very bad times. But it's amazing what a loving home will help a dog recover from.

  3. Discovered that a combination of cooldown time, chocolate and willpower will eventually allow me to answer even an e-mail that pushes all sorts of different emotional buttons and hotspots in a reasonably calm and civilized manner.

  4. Also discovered that, despite not having weighed myself in a long time and fearing the worst, and despite having been inundated with many and various forms of really good chocolate over the course of birthday week, I not only have not regained any weight, but having finally hit 180 (well, 180.2), and thus feel justified in finally crossing out the "30" on my profile and writing "35" (as in, pounds lost, under the Goals Accomplished section).

    5 pounds more to my target weight. Unless I for some reason decide I feel a compelling desire to actually land within the "normal" range of the BMI, which would require another 7 pounds or so coming off. But really, I recall 175 as feeling pretty good, and that will probably do just fine.
More substantial update coming... someday. Right now, the only reason I am awake is that I should theoretically be working, as I did not get a lot of work done this weekend between various things. But I am tired and cannot brain, so I think I will go to bed.
misslynx: (Oh R'lyeh?)
This looks like a ton of fun: An Open Challenge: Build Your Own Lovecraftian Ending

Were I not tired and brain dead at the moment, and it not late at night, I would immediately take up the challenge. Perhaps on the morrow.

In the meantime, I leave you with this, which amused me even more: The Thing in the Crib, or, Cthulhu Cthild Cthare
misslynx: (Oh R'lyeh?)
From Deep Sea News:
krakengigante.jpgToday is Cephalopod Awareness Day. Jason at Cephalopodcast asks us to "embrace your inner octopus and let the world know what we think of our tentacled friends."

At the moment, Craig is in the running for a spot on a documentary series about the deep-sea. He is one of five finalists on the casting couch in Boston today, so I am taking the opportunity to revive an old post documenting known attacks of the Kraken. As you will see below, I don't think of squid as "friends". Quite the contrary...

These are turbulent times. Lately, an awesome sea rides in on violent storms ravaging Gulf coasts and Indian coasts, destroying cities, bringing marine life up on land. These are important developments in the ocean climate. Our homeland security may depend on our ability to defend ourselves from these encroaching dangers.

Those of us that have witnessed first hand the bony sawtoothed tentacles of the colossal squid, and have learned of its medieval club shaped appendage, agree that sea monsters really do exist, and we must begin to take precautions. Perhaps we can set aside centuries - old and troubled quests for oil and religion, and focus now on the real and most dangerous enemy lurking below - the Kraken.
More here: http://scienceblogs.com/deepseanews/2007/10/attacks_of_the_kraken.php
misslynx: (Oh R'lyeh?)
Courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] aevalin (on the BPAL.org forums), I have discovered...


It even has an RSS feed available via LJ syndication: [livejournal.com profile] lolthulh.
misslynx: (Cat Attack)
A handful of really choice headlines in today's spam harvest:
"Yes, I stay away from the POETS."

In all caps, yet. Considering how often spam these days seems to resemble found poetry, it seems a bit unfair...

"Pasty pale hands like slugs under rocks, ordered by minds behind pale, eyeless faces."

Er... right, then. That one really belongs in [livejournal.com profile] necronomiphiles. If I came across that when doing spamomancy divination, I'd need to be doing a sanity check right about now. Maybe I should anyway...

"There seemed to be about six of him."

Now would this be one of the poets -- sorry, POETS -- or the things with the pasty pale hands and no eyes? If the latter, I am even more worried than I was before.

"I am not positive about the accuracy of my description."

Well, that's a relief, all things considered...

"God and the New Physics by Paul Davies."

OK, not only do the spammers appear to be evoking some kind of eldritch Lovecraftian horrors and dissing poets, but they also know what I'm reading. This would be seriously creepy if it wasn't -- well, me entertaining myself by reading meaning into random nonsense.

"But with her mind she was inclined to ridicule."

Yes; yes, I am. Is that going to be a problem?
misslynx: (Default)
If you've read about the recent controversy in the field of astronomy over what is and isn't a planet and whether Pluto still qualifies, you must watch this. By far the best commentary on the subject. :-)


(Contains video and audio; do not watch somewhere where you're supposed to be quietly working.)

Found, as are all the funniest things, in [livejournal.com profile] necronomiphiles.
misslynx: (Default)


Alas, you can't order them online... :(


misslynx: (Default)

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