mme_hardy | Random things make a post (Reply)

Yesterday, when I came into the house in the evening, I gathered a nosegay of old roses: Mme. Isaac Pereire, a China I can't remember, and Devoniensis (a.k.a. "Tradd Street Yellow"). I could have added Vineyard Song and Chrysler Imperial, had I chosen. The kitchen smells beautifully rosy.
My laptop ate its hard drive yesterday and I am going through withdrawal. My cellphone is great for mail and the Guardian, but terrible for DW and Tumblr and general Web-noodling.
Last night the NYTimes app sent me an alert about the Final Four. This morning the Guardian app sent me an alert about a school stabbing in Pennsylvania. The Guardian's breaking-news coverage of this story is, as usual, far, far better than the NYT breaking-news coverage.
I am mainlining "The Thick Of It". This has (A) given me a whole new perspective on ministerial shuffles (B) made my internal dialogue far, far more sweary (C) cemented my crush on Peter Capaldi. Not Malcolm Tucker, mind; I'm not insane. I am now engrossed in the fannish debates on why the hell Malcolm often wears a wedding ring (n.b. because Capaldi didn't always take his own off) and who the child peeking out of his house in S3 was.
Am making steady progress on two 1910s dresses for daughter and self, to be worn to a GBACG ice cream social Saturday. Definitely in adrenaline mode, but not yet panic mode.
Said to husband, "I'm going out Thursday evening." Husband: "He's a lucky guy." (Off to a movie with movingfinger , actually.)