Oh, nice!

Dec. 12th, 2025 09:32 am
julian: Picture of the sign for Julian Street. (Default)
[personal profile] julian
Someone anonymous bought me paid time, with the note, "I love your bird photos," which is a) kind, and b) gives me incentive to *take* some bird photos. And other photos. And, as a necessary corollary, walks.

Before that, I need to find my walking boots, one of which is in Some Bag Or Box, and also possibly buy other boots (because snow), which is always somewhat tangled because I have ridiculous calves and ankles.

But meantime, I can organize my tags! And post other things. And so on.

Anyway, thank you, Photononymous!

a sadness

Dec. 11th, 2025 02:13 pm
julian: Picture of the sign for Julian Street. (Default)
[personal profile] julian
[personal profile] supergee, aka Arthur Hlavaty, who I was never close to but enjoyed, died a day or so ago. He wrote engagingly, both on Dreamwidth/LJ and other places, apparently knew like, everyone in SF fandom. His wife's post on it, and Kalimac's reminisce.

Peace to his wife and husband, aka [profile] nellorat and [personal profile] womzilla.

He was very much a fanzine fan, and had a life and a half in various ways. He was quietly who he was, and lived his life as that; witness his family, for example. As I said, I liked him, in a "ships passing in the night" sense, and I'm mostly posting about it because... Well, people matter. The people who make up community, who are in the same places.

(Also, writer John Varley has probably died, though I haven't seen a definitive post on that yet. I've enjoyed what I read of him, but he was never one of the ones I really *connected* to.)

moar mommage

Dec. 8th, 2025 06:11 pm
julian: Picture of the sign for Julian Street. (Default)
[personal profile] julian
Once my mom got from the hospital to a rehab facility, she got a lot more There. (I mean, still has dementia, so not *that* there, but conscious and coherent.)

And, turns out, what actually actually happened, contrary to my last post, is that she sort of did have a stroke, but not really. A former stroke, in essence.

Medical details and muttering, but nothing gross. )

My dad is like, "I don't need help myself! So why should the light housekeeping people come just for me!" so I'm going to call him tomorrow and basically go, "They can help arrange the house for when mom comes home," which is, after all, true. But they can also help 89-year-old *him*, too. Cough.

All in all, I dislike this phase of things.

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