you're not going to stop me from having fun

Yesterday morning I woke up with the first line of a story in my head. The ink on her hands is a reminder of better days. And a title, "Indelible".

I have a first paragraph, now, and no idea where it goes. Ah, well. One day I will figure out what to do with these first lines and paragraphs that I, magpie-like, accumulate. I still have time.

Climbing. Not a bad night, at all. I led the green 4, the first time I've ever led anything from start to finish. Sent a red probably-5+/6a with an itty bit on the roof - couple of moments of dogging, but otherwise reasonably well - and sent the reachy blue 5+/6a on the slab that gave me such trouble yesterday.

It was very strange. I had some trouble in the early stages, but when I reached the bit where I got stuck yesterday - well, I was past it before I realised. It's a nice route. Just enough thinky required to keep it interesting.

I made a decent stab at a black probably-6a+ with a corner around the roof. Got stuck on a crimpy hold above the roof that required a combination of more balance and left-arm strength than I could muster. Made a decent stab at a grey probably-6a, but got stuck on the overhang. And the tricksy blue 6a defeated me again. These are all eminently doable projects. The red 6a+ I failed of with much flail and patheticness, not so much.

M., K. and a lad whose name I managed to miss were there climbing, too. Being under (strict!) orders from the grandmother to come back with pictures, I now have a couple of truly terrible phone camera pictures of me heading up the wall. And one view of the wall itself, as seen from Pearse St. station after dark.

There were topropes missing from a couple of the routes I really wanted to try. Have to save them for the 28th or 29th, I suppose.

I came home starving, and managed to drop half my dinner's pasta into a sink filled with bleachified water. To add the icing to the cake, my internets went on the blink immediately thereafter. And, oh. The parent's beau sent a gift. A small box of chocolates, which were either bought really cheap or have passed their sell-by date, because they taste like sugary cardboard.

(They say it's the thought that counts, but I would prefer no gift at all to a really pointless one. If you're going to spend two euro on a useless gift, why not donate it to the lifeboats association and put the sticker you get on a holiday postcard instead? Seriously. But perhaps I am merely bitter because the parent's joyful encouplement means I will be eating dinner alone on the 25th. I'm invited, but really, no one, least of all me, wants me playing fifth wheel. [Okay, so I am bitter. Sometimes it is harder than it ought to be, being be happy for the joys of one's loved ones.])

I continue to curse the ISP that the parent refuses to replace. Perhaps I should invest in lead curse tablets? Maybe voodoo dolls? How would you make a voodoo doll for an ISP, anyway?

Now, today, my arms and shoulders feel like floppy cheese strings. But I must gird my loins for to see family members. And perhaps make a cake. Everything is better with cake.

you're not going to stop me from having fun

Yesterday morning I woke up with the first line of a story in my head. The ink on her hands is a reminder of better days. And a title, "Indelible".

I have a first paragraph, now, and no idea where it goes. Ah, well. One day I will figure out what to do with these first lines and paragraphs that I, magpie-like, accumulate. I still have time.

Climbing. Not a bad night, at all. I led the green 4, the first time I've ever led anything from start to finish. Sent a red probably-5+/6a with an itty bit on the roof - couple of moments of dogging, but otherwise reasonably well - and sent the reachy blue 5+/6a on the slab that gave me such trouble yesterday.

It was very strange. I had some trouble in the early stages, but when I reached the bit where I got stuck yesterday - well, I was past it before I realised. It's a nice route. Just enough thinky required to keep it interesting.

I made a decent stab at a black probably-6a+ with a corner around the roof. Got stuck on a crimpy hold above the roof that required a combination of more balance and left-arm strength than I could muster. Made a decent stab at a grey probably-6a, but got stuck on the overhang. And the tricksy blue 6a defeated me again. These are all eminently doable projects. The red 6a+ I failed of with much flail and patheticness, not so much.

M., K. and a lad whose name I managed to miss were there climbing, too. Being under (strict!) orders from the grandmother to come back with pictures, I now have a couple of truly terrible phone camera pictures of me heading up the wall. And one view of the wall itself, as seen from Pearse St. station after dark.

There were topropes missing from a couple of the routes I really wanted to try. Have to save them for the 28th or 29th, I suppose.

I came home starving, and managed to drop half my dinner's pasta into a sink filled with bleachified water. To add the icing to the cake, my internets went on the blink immediately thereafter. And, oh. The parent's beau sent a gift. A small box of chocolates, which were either bought really cheap or have passed their sell-by date, because they taste like sugary cardboard.

(They say it's the thought that counts, but I would prefer no gift at all to a really pointless one. If you're going to spend two euro on a useless gift, why not donate it to the lifeboats association and put the sticker you get on a holiday postcard instead? Seriously. But perhaps I am merely bitter because the parent's joyful encouplement means I will be eating dinner alone on the 25th. I'm invited, but really, no one, least of all me, wants me playing fifth wheel. [Okay, so I am bitter. Sometimes it is harder than it ought to be, being be happy for the joys of one's loved ones.])

I continue to curse the ISP that the parent refuses to replace. Perhaps I should invest in lead curse tablets? Maybe voodoo dolls? How would you make a voodoo doll for an ISP, anyway?

Now, today, my arms and shoulders feel like floppy cheese strings. But I must gird my loins for to see family members. And perhaps make a cake. Everything is better with cake.

See! I can fall off walls!

image1(3),
originally uploaded by hawkwing_lb.

I can fall off walls as well as the next person.

Even if my hair is getting to the incredible floppy I-need-to-take-a-hedge-clippers-to-it stage of overgrowth. :P

See! I can fall off walls!

image1(3),
originally uploaded by hawkwing_lb.

I can fall off walls as well as the next person.

Even if my hair is getting to the incredible floppy I-need-to-take-a-hedge-clippers-to-it stage of overgrowth. :P

In the spirit of the season...

I give you a recipe.

Instructions for the assembly of one (1) cream sponge cake

Required:

eggs
white sugar
self-raising flour
vanilla (optional)
a mixing bowl
a sieve
a baking tray
an oven

cream
fruit

The ratio of eggs:sugar:flour is on the order of 1 egg:1-1.5 tablespoons :1-1.5 tablespoons, depending on the size of the egg. It is a scalable recipe. You can make as much or as little as you like, although I find 3 eggs usually fills one or two baking trays.

Crack the eggs into the mixing bowl. Add sugar in the correct ratio. If you are like me, you will loose track of even these simple measurements. So guesstimate.

Take your whisk. It helps to have an electric one. Beat the eggs and the sugar until the resultant mix is well blended, and stiff enough that you can draw a figure eight in it with your finger that will last for 10-15 seconds.

Pause, if you have a sweet tooth, to sample some of the egg/sugar blend. Personally, that's my favourite part of the cooking process.

Add a drop of vanilla essence. A half-teaspoon should do. But feel free to suit yourself.

Take your sieve. Sieve the flour into the mixture in the ratio noted above. After each tablespoon, pause to fold the flour into the mixture. Make sure no air pockets of flour remain. Those things will ruin a good sponge.

Preheat your oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Grease your baking tray(s), preferably with butter. Pour your mixture into your baking tray(s) and put it in the oven. Leave it there for 10-15 minutes. No longer than 20 at most, or you will likely have carbonised sponge.

Some people claim to like that kind of thing.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

While your mixture is baking, wash out your mixing bowl and put about 200mls of cream in it. More, if you really like cream. Add a drop of vanilla essence to the cream. And this time I mean a drop. Using your whisk, beat the cream into submission.

At this point, your sponge(s) should be nearly done. Remove from the oven and place somewhere it (or they) can cool. When cool, apply cream and fruit. I prefer tinned pears (or in summer, strawberries). If you have more than one sponge, you can make a layer cake, with many different things in each layer. Some people add jam. Or chocolate. Some people replace the vanilla with cinnamon. But then, some people are weird.

I like sponge cakes, because they're quick and easy to make.

Anyway. Eat, drink, and be merry. And all the rest of it.

In the spirit of the season...

I give you a recipe.

Instructions for the assembly of one (1) cream sponge cake

Required:

eggs
white sugar
self-raising flour
vanilla (optional)
a mixing bowl
a sieve
a baking tray
an oven

cream
fruit

The ratio of eggs:sugar:flour is on the order of 1 egg:1-1.5 tablespoons :1-1.5 tablespoons, depending on the size of the egg. It is a scalable recipe. You can make as much or as little as you like, although I find 3 eggs usually fills one or two baking trays.

Crack the eggs into the mixing bowl. Add sugar in the correct ratio. If you are like me, you will loose track of even these simple measurements. So guesstimate.

Take your whisk. It helps to have an electric one. Beat the eggs and the sugar until the resultant mix is well blended, and stiff enough that you can draw a figure eight in it with your finger that will last for 10-15 seconds.

Pause, if you have a sweet tooth, to sample some of the egg/sugar blend. Personally, that's my favourite part of the cooking process.

Add a drop of vanilla essence. A half-teaspoon should do. But feel free to suit yourself.

Take your sieve. Sieve the flour into the mixture in the ratio noted above. After each tablespoon, pause to fold the flour into the mixture. Make sure no air pockets of flour remain. Those things will ruin a good sponge.

Preheat your oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Grease your baking tray(s), preferably with butter. Pour your mixture into your baking tray(s) and put it in the oven. Leave it there for 10-15 minutes. No longer than 20 at most, or you will likely have carbonised sponge.

Some people claim to like that kind of thing.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

While your mixture is baking, wash out your mixing bowl and put about 200mls of cream in it. More, if you really like cream. Add a drop of vanilla essence to the cream. And this time I mean a drop. Using your whisk, beat the cream into submission.

At this point, your sponge(s) should be nearly done. Remove from the oven and place somewhere it (or they) can cool. When cool, apply cream and fruit. I prefer tinned pears (or in summer, strawberries). If you have more than one sponge, you can make a layer cake, with many different things in each layer. Some people add jam. Or chocolate. Some people replace the vanilla with cinnamon. But then, some people are weird.

I like sponge cakes, because they're quick and easy to make.

Anyway. Eat, drink, and be merry. And all the rest of it.