💫
("Vulcans do not forget, Doctor. I am able to recall my experiences at will."
"But you miss him."
"That is true, Doctor. Very much. Perhaps it is illogical, but to deny it would be more so, for it is objectively the truth.")
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I think what I like about moving into a new place (besides it being much nicer than where we lived before) is that we do so much in preparation for that. we go lots of places to buy furniture or paint or whatever, we have to check things and look at things and stuff like that. I don't usually get out much 😭
right now I'm supposed to be painting walls while the others start moving our things, but I've got a massive headache so I've had to take a break for now. 😔 I need to finish three walls today and all on my own, plus I'll need to wait a few hours in between rooms so my hands don't get too painful. so I don't have time for a headache right now 🙃
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Happy Miku Day (3/9)!!!
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Please do not use or re-post my artwork without my permission. Thank you! (reblogs, however, are welcome and appreciated)
I do not own Hatsune Miku. All rights to their owners.
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Max Chapman (from A League Of Their Own) - fanart ~
(11/2022)
this show has completely captivated me over the last month or so, and max has become one of my ult favourite characters of all time! she's just so wonderful <3
based on the scene where uncle bertie is cutting max's hair because it's so beautiful!
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today i honor eileen, who died an hour ago. she was a simple woman with simple tastes: good tomato sauce, not very good beer (the lady drank rolling rocks, but hey), homemade bread. she had ten children, nine of whom she gave birth to, and still liked babies enough to open an unofficial daycare at her home in the seventies. she sewed decently, baked wonderfully (a lot of her baked goods were slightly overdone thanks to a very old oven, but her piecrust is still the best recipe i've ever used. her soda bread was a bit sweeter than average, and now i don't like any other soda bread but her sugary, curranty loaf with a thick swipe of butter. she sang with a rich, warbly vibrato that i sometimes hear in my own voice when i'm excited enough. she played piano, not well, but all her life, more or less until she couldn't anymore. fur elise was her favorite piece to break out and show off. as long as i can remember, there was a puzzle on the vinyl tablecloth in the sunroom at her house. there probably is right now, 300-piece to accommodate for her increasing dementia, which would no longer allow her to do more complex ones. she had so many children and grandchildren that she rotated their pictures out on the top of the piano, always by birthday month. this month there would be my eldest aunt, my grandfather, and my brother. she was one of the scattered living diaspora of a tiny town in abruzzo - pacentro, population one thousand, which she visited once in the early oughts. my father used the photos she took there to paint a landscape of her family's hometown, which hung in her living room with the dark green couches and the long floral curtains as long as i can remember. when she still could, she and my grandfather would make the trip to our house in the height of summer, where pappy would pick grapes from our arbor or take home elderberries or the largest and woodiest of our green beans (he likes them that way - tough and starchy). she would nap on the couch (a ritual she called Resting Her Eyes) and then read to us: The Sleeping Giant, Tomie DePaola, anything she'd bought for us at some previous time. she read widely. towards the end, when what she could do was limited, she read pretty much all day long. it didn't matter what. i'm forgetting a million things about her even now. i've missed her for years, as she disappeared by pieces. but i loved her, and by god, i know she loved well.
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