blamebrampton: 15th century woodcut of a hound (Default)
[personal profile] blamebrampton
I am still sick to the point of brokenness, which is very annoying because there were any number of things I wanted to do this weekend. My brave but foolhardy friends from Tasmania came to visit, I look forward to hearding about the inevitable flu outbreak that will follow them home. Since functional thought is beyond me, I am indulging in the first lines meme. Except half my friends did last lines, and I couldn't decide which I preferred. So I did both for the stories that have endings.
 
The Fettered Wand
“Can you see them, Granger?”

Snatched
“Is that it?”

A few laughter-filled seconds later, Scorpius’s door followed suit.

Beneath Boundless Skies
It was, without doubt, the strangest Owl that Harry had ever received.

“Come on,” Harry reached down to him. “Let’s go home.”

Decline and Fall
“Where is it this time?”

And whether she would haunt his bed as surely as he haunted hers.

Pushing the Envelope
Percy stared at the parchment in front of him. His lower lip bore the imprint of teeth, between his brows a furrow wore deep.

He wondered if Penelope Clearwater was really back from Italy, as rumour had it. There were a lot of good words that rhymed with ‘water’.

An Act of Simple Devotion
You see him there, in the arms of his mother, his father leaning down over both of them. She looks about, perhaps she is looking for you. Later you will thank her, but not now.

And with that he reaches behind Draco and pushes the papers off the table and the pair of them onto it, and Draco is forced to agree.

It's a Blunderful Life
It was not the worst day of Draco's life. There were too many contenders for that day as it was, all filled with screams and death and fear.

With great care, he climbed to his feet and toddled over to the tree, where there were at least eight bells within his reach.

Fathers Who Could Do With A Spot of Sinning

Harry Potter closes the door and leans back against it for a long moment, looking down at the rug, a smile glimmering at the edges of his mouth.

Sins of the Fathers
When Scorpius Malfoy is five years old, it occurs to him that he should have four grandparents, not three.

Al laughs, picks up two of the towels that are kept by the garden door and together they walk out into the sun and down towards the willows swaying in the breeze.

These Fragile Bonds
It was cold here. But he knew not to complain, because cold was better than dark, and anything was better than dead.

What has the exercise taught me? That I could possibly do with a bit more intellectualism and depth, and that I should really finish a few things. (It's worse than you know, I've omitted Shiv's birthday fic and there are two fests. And I need to speak fluent Italian by November ...)

Date: 2008-08-30 11:08 pm (UTC)
ext_14590: (Default)
From: [identity profile] meredyth-13.livejournal.com
I think what it should be telling you is to finish more fic, woman! *pokes nicely with a wry grin of shared guilt*

Bugger for the bug - what is it with disease in this country this year? I swear, next year I'm going back on the flu shots, and they tell me there's one for pneumonia as well. Yep, I hate needles, and the after effects, but this might just have to happen. :(

So sorry you feel like crap. I have resigned myself to not seeing you before we go - this makes me uber sad, but at least I'll stop nagging you. If you do decide to get well (sorry, that's not meant to be snarky) and make a sudden flash visit next weekend, you will be more than welcome. I'm afraid diseased people are left on the doorstep with directions to the nearest tram stop. :D

Wow, I sound like a bitch today. I blame rockband. I've discovered it is possible to do serious neurological damage playing it for several hours in an evening; now my brain feels like mush and I have Bowie stuck in my head. Could be worse.

On a 'trying to sound like a friend' note - please may the powers of nature let you get well, and I hope you have a lovely sunday despite the dreadful illness. And in case I haven't told you lately - I love your writing.

Date: 2008-08-31 11:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blamebrampton.livejournal.com
It is definitely telling me that!

I think I will turn to flu shots next year, since I seem to have turned into a flu magnet. And alas, yes, this does mean that we will be pretty much out of weekends, since I can't imagine getting any acts together in the next week beyond dressing, perhaps working, and sleeping. Makes perfect sense to not let diseased people in, I am startled that my Tasmanian friends decided to come, and they have only themselves to blame if they are struck down.

And Bowie in your head is a fine internal soundtrack. Thanks for the vote of confidence, I will concentrate on getting well and finish more chapters, including emails to you of where you can find them when you return from your jaunting about the globe.

Date: 2008-08-31 11:45 am (UTC)
ext_14590: (Default)
From: [identity profile] meredyth-13.livejournal.com
How are you feeling today, honey? I hope better than yesterday. It took most of the day for me to start feeling 'normal' - well, for a given state of normal that is mine, and probably far different to most humans.

I went to the gym this morning - I cannot see how this is a good thing. The kitties have new new plants in their atrium (which will probably suffer the same fate as all those who have gone before them). Loki even managed to knock one off the shelf before we even got to plant it. The cat grass clumps have already been chewed into limp green stubble.

I honestly think dressing and working are overrated, whereas sleeping is essential, and often needs to be done to the extreme, and should be interspersed with eating, reading and kitty cuddling. Please consider this a recipe for the week ahead.

Date: 2008-08-31 12:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] blamebrampton.livejournal.com
Spent most of the weekend in bed. Bleagh. Lucky kitties! Mine have had to make do with a selection of cushions and legs for their lounging and climbing pleasure.

Would love a few more days in bed, but the budget won't allow it. Sigh.

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