Be Gone, Summer! Get Thee Hence.
Just...gah.
It's bloody hot today and I can't stand it.
Why can't the sun understand I have clearly designed my house for moodiness, books, and endless pots of beautiful tea and not for this inescapable heat? The sun is selfish.
Gah.
In this inferno I have pointed a fan blowing directly on my face (not that it really helps), I eat ice, and try and distract myself. Think of the silver linings, blah-blah-di-blah.
I'm sitting next to my giant Edwardian fireplace surround piled with some of those lovely old books I collect. Yes, my name Is Melly S. and I have an addiction. I collect books like they're about ready to be eradicated from the planet and if I don't save them all then no one will remember what one is. The Snape barely tolerates this habit, and only then to an extent. Mind, you must understand we both adore books and mutually collect. But...I'm obsessive. I even talked about it in a recovery group and that's not a joke. Giving them away makes me feel near-physical pain. Snape's given me an ultimatum: I can get new books as long as they replace ones I don't need.
*choke*
It's reasonable.
Anyway, some of the really old ones are under glass, others are arranged on high shelves in the great room and on the mantle. They're so beautiful.
Normally, sitting in this armchair makes me feel quietly happy. This armchair is my special little spot. This is a gorgeous room to be in. I wish I wasn't feeling so endlessly sorry for myself that I could enjoy them more.
The lady, lion, and unicorn in the tapestry on the opposing wall are clearly also affected based upon pained expressions.
Which reminds me, I bought this little volume from the late 1800's of Longfellow's Evangeline. It's impossible to read about Longfellow's primeval forests in this heat. I so wanted it, bought it for pennies last week. If you've ever read Evangeline you'll remember the first page is gripping with imagery of a cool, ancient, damp forest and that it's nothing short of pure indulgent deliciousness. I've been so ready to sit and devour the pages with a pot of tea and my cozy chair.
Poor little neglected book.
It's on the pile of pining and whining.
Silver lining attempt #2:
There's this wall hanging I'm working on (I look at it on a small table mostly hidden in the corner of this great room), it's a big tree made up of a mutilated antique crazy quilt I bought some time ago. Its all velvets and satins...probably someone's sewing scraps of formal wear. Textile gorgeousness circa 1920's. Blacks, mauve, emeralds, silver, copper. Yes, it's okay, drool away.
I pieced a tree together from what I could salvage of the shreds of quilt. This I sewed onto a patch-worked background made to look like a sun (blast it) setting over hills. The tree is covered with seven life lines all joined together by clockwork, all connecting to one heart...the lines branch out into leaves and keys. Sounds weird, but it's not. Kind of. I'll take photos soon.
I really could get off my hind quarters and poke at it. It calls to be worked on, but gah this heat makes me so sullen and I just want to huff and whine.
I wish we had proper air conditioning in this ancient place.
Alright, so, stiff upper sweaty lip. Time to think of an upside.
*Whines*
Oh okay, there is one undeniable upside of this day that I can't whine and pine away.
*Moment of appreciation...*
The Snape and I are alone and he is wearing naught but this hot, stiffling air as he plays Skyrim. I'm sighing as my eyes are sipping.
A beautiful man with sweaty skin is viciously intoxicating, even if I'm too stupidly hot to be motivated enough to do any more than just look.
I'm so lucky. That man is gracefully sprawled out in the leather club chair, his long curls being snagged by the fan breeze. Like a naughty shampoo commercial.
Alright, that made me chuckle a bit. I feel slightly better.
It's bloody hot today and I can't stand it.
Why can't the sun understand I have clearly designed my house for moodiness, books, and endless pots of beautiful tea and not for this inescapable heat? The sun is selfish.
Gah.
In this inferno I have pointed a fan blowing directly on my face (not that it really helps), I eat ice, and try and distract myself. Think of the silver linings, blah-blah-di-blah.
I'm sitting next to my giant Edwardian fireplace surround piled with some of those lovely old books I collect. Yes, my name Is Melly S. and I have an addiction. I collect books like they're about ready to be eradicated from the planet and if I don't save them all then no one will remember what one is. The Snape barely tolerates this habit, and only then to an extent. Mind, you must understand we both adore books and mutually collect. But...I'm obsessive. I even talked about it in a recovery group and that's not a joke. Giving them away makes me feel near-physical pain. Snape's given me an ultimatum: I can get new books as long as they replace ones I don't need.
*choke*
It's reasonable.
Anyway, some of the really old ones are under glass, others are arranged on high shelves in the great room and on the mantle. They're so beautiful.
Normally, sitting in this armchair makes me feel quietly happy. This armchair is my special little spot. This is a gorgeous room to be in. I wish I wasn't feeling so endlessly sorry for myself that I could enjoy them more.
The lady, lion, and unicorn in the tapestry on the opposing wall are clearly also affected based upon pained expressions.
Which reminds me, I bought this little volume from the late 1800's of Longfellow's Evangeline. It's impossible to read about Longfellow's primeval forests in this heat. I so wanted it, bought it for pennies last week. If you've ever read Evangeline you'll remember the first page is gripping with imagery of a cool, ancient, damp forest and that it's nothing short of pure indulgent deliciousness. I've been so ready to sit and devour the pages with a pot of tea and my cozy chair.
Poor little neglected book.
It's on the pile of pining and whining.
Silver lining attempt #2:
There's this wall hanging I'm working on (I look at it on a small table mostly hidden in the corner of this great room), it's a big tree made up of a mutilated antique crazy quilt I bought some time ago. Its all velvets and satins...probably someone's sewing scraps of formal wear. Textile gorgeousness circa 1920's. Blacks, mauve, emeralds, silver, copper. Yes, it's okay, drool away.
I pieced a tree together from what I could salvage of the shreds of quilt. This I sewed onto a patch-worked background made to look like a sun (blast it) setting over hills. The tree is covered with seven life lines all joined together by clockwork, all connecting to one heart...the lines branch out into leaves and keys. Sounds weird, but it's not. Kind of. I'll take photos soon.
I really could get off my hind quarters and poke at it. It calls to be worked on, but gah this heat makes me so sullen and I just want to huff and whine.
I wish we had proper air conditioning in this ancient place.
Alright, so, stiff upper sweaty lip. Time to think of an upside.
*Whines*
Oh okay, there is one undeniable upside of this day that I can't whine and pine away.
*Moment of appreciation...*
The Snape and I are alone and he is wearing naught but this hot, stiffling air as he plays Skyrim. I'm sighing as my eyes are sipping.
A beautiful man with sweaty skin is viciously intoxicating, even if I'm too stupidly hot to be motivated enough to do any more than just look.
I'm so lucky. That man is gracefully sprawled out in the leather club chair, his long curls being snagged by the fan breeze. Like a naughty shampoo commercial.
Alright, that made me chuckle a bit. I feel slightly better.
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