Now that I'm moving back to the States, I've started thinking of this blog more and more as my 'China Blog'. And now I'd kind of like to keep it that way.
So without further ado, I present to you CYCORIS. Posting will begin as soon as I get home.
-Layli
an abundance of pictures
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a girl named Layli. One day, she decided to take a walk, and document it just for the sake of it.
...I started in the garden. There was okra, and okra flowers with beetles on them:
Corn:
We had some for dinner, it was very good:
There were green-beans:
And green tomatoes:
And cabbages as big as my head:
And zinnias:
And...skulls?! Who's been tampering with my pictures? Oh, wait, I took that, after I made sure it wasn't going to eat me.
Anyhow, there was a skull, with lots of teeth:
Now, tell me that eye isn't looking straight at me.
The koi pond is home to who-knows-how-many giganamo fish.
And did I tell you that I got a haircut?
And that I then was impaled on a pitchfork, died, and turned zombie?
I didn't tell you? Oh. Sorry for the surprise.
Then my mother buried me under an abandoned barn. Amen.
There wasn't any room for my corpse in the not abandoned barn.
I walked on, blatantly ignoring the 'no trespassing' sign.
And on and on I go, seconds tick the time out. There's so much left to know and I'm on the road to find out... (Then I started singing Cat Stevens.)
The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow it if I can. (Then I pretended to be a Hobbit.)
On the way, I tried not to step in this:
Or that thing in the right-hand corner over there:
And definitely not in this stuff:
Then I paused to take a few photos of myself.
I couldn't resist making funny faces.
Aww, I'm so sad and unloved. Won't somebody take me home, pet me and give me a saucer of milk? Oh, wait. I forgot I'm not a cat. Never mind then.
There were hoof-prints in the mud. The hooves belonged to cattle.
Then there was a barbedwire fence in the middle of the creek. I climbed over it. However, in trying to take a picture of it, I got my butt wet, so I'm not sure that there was that much purpose in going over rather than under.
Ah, lovely cattle, all lined up and posed.
And I managed to keep the dog, Lil Bit, out of the cattle spectacularly.
The cows ignored me when I flapped my arms and yelled as I ran towards them. I don't blame them. If anyone else had been there, I would have pretended not to know myself too.
Hey, Lil Bit. How about you look at the camera instead of the cows, huh?
And another abandoned barn. They're like castles in the UK, except I'm not sure that a dilapidated barn tour has quite the same appeal as a castle and ruins tour. Oh well.
And what is it with people leaving farming equipment just lying about?
And this concludes our tour of Osage, Arkansas, home of Osage Clayworks and shameless plugs.
...I started in the garden. There was okra, and okra flowers with beetles on them:
Corn:
We had some for dinner, it was very good:
There were green-beans:
And green tomatoes:
And cabbages as big as my head:
And zinnias:
And...skulls?! Who's been tampering with my pictures? Oh, wait, I took that, after I made sure it wasn't going to eat me.
Anyhow, there was a skull, with lots of teeth:
Now, tell me that eye isn't looking straight at me.
The koi pond is home to who-knows-how-many giganamo fish.
And did I tell you that I got a haircut?
And that I then was impaled on a pitchfork, died, and turned zombie?
I didn't tell you? Oh. Sorry for the surprise.
Then my mother buried me under an abandoned barn. Amen.
There wasn't any room for my corpse in the not abandoned barn.
I walked on, blatantly ignoring the 'no trespassing' sign.
And on and on I go, seconds tick the time out. There's so much left to know and I'm on the road to find out... (Then I started singing Cat Stevens.)
The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow it if I can. (Then I pretended to be a Hobbit.)
On the way, I tried not to step in this:
Or that thing in the right-hand corner over there:
And definitely not in this stuff:
Then I paused to take a few photos of myself.
I couldn't resist making funny faces.
Aww, I'm so sad and unloved. Won't somebody take me home, pet me and give me a saucer of milk? Oh, wait. I forgot I'm not a cat. Never mind then.
There were hoof-prints in the mud. The hooves belonged to cattle.
Then there was a barbedwire fence in the middle of the creek. I climbed over it. However, in trying to take a picture of it, I got my butt wet, so I'm not sure that there was that much purpose in going over rather than under.
Ah, lovely cattle, all lined up and posed.
And I managed to keep the dog, Lil Bit, out of the cattle spectacularly.
The cows ignored me when I flapped my arms and yelled as I ran towards them. I don't blame them. If anyone else had been there, I would have pretended not to know myself too.
Hey, Lil Bit. How about you look at the camera instead of the cows, huh?
And another abandoned barn. They're like castles in the UK, except I'm not sure that a dilapidated barn tour has quite the same appeal as a castle and ruins tour. Oh well.
And what is it with people leaving farming equipment just lying about?
And this concludes our tour of Osage, Arkansas, home of Osage Clayworks and shameless plugs.
petit blog post (with chocolate sauce)
Oh dear. It's out in (some) of my family that I have a blog, so now I feel obligated to post more often. This isn't a bad thing really, in fact I count anything that makes me more inclined to post as a blessing, but right now it's pretty late in the evening and I haven't thought of anything about which I can speak, so I think I'll just leave you all with some pictures I took while at my "Aunt" Amy's house.
So, Walt Whitman walks into a bar wearing rainbow hippie pants...
I haven't shown you my awesomely nerdy hippie pants yet. I made them about two months ago. They started out as a pair of jeans that I didn't wear very often. Brynne slitted them at the front and back and added triangles of denim fabric cut from some other pants to make the flares very, very wide. Then I took a set of rainbow Sharpies (left over from my tie-dying efforts here and here) and wrote the first half of Walt Whitman's Song of Myself on them.
Those of you out there who have read John Green's Paper Towns will surely appreciate the reference, as the poem is a major plot point in the book.
Front view:
Side-ish view:
Detail:
And the wonderful flares:
Those of you out there who have read John Green's Paper Towns will surely appreciate the reference, as the poem is a major plot point in the book.
Front view:
Side-ish view:
Detail:
And the wonderful flares:
teh craftses
So. In my various perusals I've discovered this moste excellente website that makes me want to go and make some of the things shown. They just look so cuddly and cute. And geeky.
This will likely become a source for shameless borrowing and inspiration for projects to come.
Then there are these, which just make me laugh.
Now, I'm going to go crochet. Adieu!
P.S. LOLcat thrown in for good measure:
This will likely become a source for shameless borrowing and inspiration for projects to come.
Then there are these, which just make me laugh.
Now, I'm going to go crochet. Adieu!
P.S. LOLcat thrown in for good measure:
spunk
Above are two screenshots of my desktop. It is very steempunk-y.
And above is a screenshot of my new Firefox theme. It is lovely as well.
bemoaning the popularity of Twilight
More than ever, I'm shocked and a little bewildered at the popularity of Twilight, both the movie and the books. As someone who wasn't able to make it through the first book, I don't feel qualified to make judgements about it, but I have seen the movie, and therefore this video and article really hit home with me, and embodies the reasons for my disgust with the series.
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