If you stop, you sometimes find people in the last stages of an exhaustion so complete that death seems not a different state but part of the same continuum.
RW Johnson

It took me awhile to find this quote, because I only remembered a wisp of it from high school, but it always stuck. I’m not in any way comparing myself to the tortured souls in Zimbabwe, but just mentioning how this quote always stuck with me.

St M spent the night (yesterday eve) and we stayed up ’til past 2 am watching the BBC. When we got up later that morning, a package had arrived for me. My Winter Handspun Swap package from cmc_aust. I feel outdone. Oy. Lookie at what she sent me:

(and that’s St M in the background there)

A felt sheepy tea cozy (it was on my wist!) and 500 yards of lace weight silk/ merino handspun. This parcel was very much worth the wait. I really do hope she liked the things I sent. Contrary to how it might have seemed, I must have spent 6 hours on that bloody journal. There are more layers of paint on it that the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling (seriously, I have never dealt with such thin acrylic before). Still, my “small” project seems a bit unworthy now. Oy.

After opening the parcel, using the tea cozy and checking the bus schedule we ran out the door to catch the bus. Only to stand there (in the rain, I might add) for quite sometime, until we decided that we must have missed it. As we were walking back to warmth and shelter, St M paused and said “There it is,” as it slowly went around the Amazon loop (on the way to making it to our stop).

It was 15 mins late.


Anyway. We went to Dyelots. It was fun, and warm and dry. And there were pretty things on the wall. Pretty things that were too tempting for my own good. I bought two silk caps. Bad me. I’m not certain if I’ve fallen off of the wagon, or not. I’ll have to check my stipulations later.

Then we went to see Pan’s Labyrinth.

Slight spoilers: St M was practically sobbing by the end, and even I cried. But it was good. Just… overwhelming. Very true to old European fairy tales, though (think Grimm). *exhales* I’m still recovering from it. This isn’t a bad review, either, just an honest one. I knew the movie would be bittersweet going in, but the story had so many twists and turns that I just can’t describe it. I would definitely see it again, and probably will.

Everything after that is a bit blurry, and I’m really tired. Actually, thinking about it, I do want to see the movie again. Maybe I can convince Mum tomorrow…

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