Life through a cardboard tube

Aaaaaahhhh home, how I miss you

So I’m guessing once you start dreaming about fire breathing evil dudes, trying to kill all occupants of a small village surrounding a castle, meanwhile you’re trying to save said occupants by hiding them in the castle walls and yelling at the guy who has the key to stopping it to use it already, that you have probably been reading too much The Hobbit, am I right? Yea I should probably stop reading it, but I’m more than half way through the 2nd read through. Yep I truly actually meant the 2nd time I’ve read it since I bought it…..a month ago. Can not wait till that movie comes out, if only I could have got a chance at being an elf (casting calls this weekend, not really the right build for an elf, wishing that I had perhaps started the dramatic fall in numbers on the scale a half year earlier, wishing that wishes actually did come true). Perhaps someone will film something else awesome in New Zealand and I can try then. I love that dreams are free. Although fire breathing evil dudes? What gives? What’s more I’m pretty sure he wasn’t actually a dragon, his exact physical appearance seems to elude my dream memory. Weird dreams as weird thinks I guess.

(Oh by the way, I have actually read The Hobbit before I bought it, first time I was probably about 8 years old, since then I’ve probably read it a dozen times, interspersed with Lord of the Rings and many many other books. I’m just slightly obsessed with the escape from reality that is contained in books.)

quickmeme:

Paranoid Parrot

This Christmas camping trip I took a photo of a Dragon, yes you read right and no I am not delusional. I intend to paint this dragon onto a nice piece of canvas. I will then photograph the painting on the canvas and post it. It’s a rather fierce looking dragon, or atleast from a couple of angles. Horns all over his head, teeth of every size, armour on his legs, wings that looked a bit like spiderwebs. Only thing is when he poked his head around the side of the cave and through the trees he just looked cute and curious. Without doing that he could have been mistaken for a purplish version of Smaug (if you don’t know who this is you better do some serious reading of the classics).

Oh and Hey! I’m back

Oh my gosh, so busy, oh and my laptop carked it, but good, behind on my tumbling though, so behind, so when I finally dropped in to catch up on the haps I had to say hi. Working on some more important lessons, so hopefully the laptop is revived soon and I can post some stuff. How life lovely? Treating you oh so good I hope

obitoftheday:

Obit of the Day: Pilot, Reporter, Karate Master

In 1944, eighteen-year-old Patricia Wilson did her part for the war effort. Her part was to fly a plan for the Civil Air Defense in Philadelphia. Only 18, not only would she fly patrols around the city but also, in an act of incredible bravery or insanity, would drag target banners across the sky for antiaircraft gunners to practice.

That about sums up the time of person Ms. Wilson was. Joining the staff of the Philadelphia Inquirer after the war, she waited patiently as she moved from position to position, starting as a copy girl and eventually writing articles for the entertainment section.

When she turned 40, to go along with her flight experience and journalism career, she wanted a new challenge. So she began karate training. She became a black belt.

The best story from Ms. Wilson’s obituary, though, is this one:

[Wilson] was with some people late at night in Japan [where she was studying the martial arts] when a Japanese man told her in a rage that his brother had been killed in the war.

“Pat said she replied, ‘And my brother was killed at Pearl Harbor. We both have much to forget.’ At this the man broke down and wept, they hugged each other and the moment was saved.”

Pat had no brother…

Awesome lady.

(Image courtesy of philly.com)

Autumn in Auckland City

One day a small dog was wandering along a lane outside of a village. He was passing by a field when he heard some dogs having quite an argument. Well, he was too afraid that they might be larger than him and things were getting quite heated so he thought he would stay out of the argument and wait to see if he could be of some assistance if things went too awry. Pretty soon the argument turned into a ferocious fight and just as the little dog was contemplating seeing if there was anything he could do there was silence.

‘Oh they’ve stopped’, he thought. So he shimmied under the wire fence and went to check on the other dogs, perhaps he might discover what it was that was so important that this terrible fight had happened. As he neared the spot he thought the dogs had been in he could hear small whining sounds to his left so he headed in that direction and found a dog about twice his own size. ‘Oh’, he thought, ‘it’s a good thing I stayed out of this dog’s way’. He padded over to him and realised that he had been too badly hurt to survive. As he was trying to comfort the dog in his last moments he heard another small whimper off to his right. He wasn’t sure whether to leave the first dog but he quickly slipped away so he wandered off to see if he could find the source of the whimper. He soon came across a dog four times his own size and thought ‘Oh goodness, it’s a very good thing I did not get between this dog and the other dog, it must have been a very important thing they were arguing over’. He padded across to the other dog and found that in his condition he may survive but he would never be the same dog again, he would definitely lose a couple of limbs and there was some severe damage to his head. He would get help for him when he found the next farmhouse. The second dog whispered that the prize was just to the right of them so the little dog went looking for it.

Soon he came across a large old cow bone. ‘This was it?’, he thought with some puzzlement, ‘surely it took more than this to cause such a large and terrible fight.’ But this was it. So he took the bone, continued on his way, found the next farmhouse and led the people to the injured dogs, then settled down to enjoy the bone.

Moral - War is war. The third dog will always get the bone.