Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Neil Gaiman--my hero


“The storm came up out of the southwest like a fiend, stalking its prey on legs of lightning.” From Clive Barker’s Abarat.

Good morning my freaky darlings--Rather than go grocery shopping (which I must do) I decide to have a second cup o' java and see where the Rowling vs Vander Ark trial is at. I was pleased to see rational adults having conversations about interesting topics. I could use some of that right now.
I think I have a crush on Gaiman. I want to follow him around like the fangirl I am. Actually what would be a better fantasy is just to sit quietly, watching while he writes. I have admired him ever since E. tipped me off to the Sandman Series. His hero status was clinched with Abarat and American Gods.I wonder if other people put off working/writing with housework? I should either be finding scholarly support for my Snape argument or re working Fealty. But nope--I am sipping that coffee.

Oh!! look!! the puppy wants to play, how cute!! I should get a bigger zip zap leash for her. She is gonna demolish the old one. Her "heel" lessons are coming along nicely. She ate the butter this morning. About a half a cup was left in the crock on the counter. Post toast residue if you will--and I can't say that I blame her. I would eat butter like that if I could. I usually hide popcorn under it when I am that desperate. So far her her tally of things destructed (which one kinda expects with a teething toddler-puppy) is small. One coaster. One jump rope handle. Not bad! I like this dog. Even if she is afraid of the dark!! (Maybe she shouldn't read so much Gaiman!!)

2 comments:

Deborah said...

So Luna ate the butter ! Well dogs don't get high cholesterol, so I guess its ok. Fred eats the cats' food. I eat butter too , but not that much ! Fred is afraid of thunder and big tractors.

Lilim said...

I remember when my 15-year-old cat, Jake, ate half a stick of butter, as a kitten. He came walking into the living room, tears smeared over his cheeks, licking gobs of butter off of his whiskers. That was the last time we softened butter on the countertop before baking anything. The little punk still has a penchant for buttered toast, though....