*happy sigh*

[stillane]

This has been an unexpectedly wonderful day, in the way that nothing truly momentous happened, but what did was great.

I slept late, had the house to myself for the afternoon, and met my mom for dinner. Since I drove down alone, I got to have some quality time with the windows down and the radio up, just thrumming along. I miss motoring, sometimes.

We had sushi, which always makes my world better, and then moseyed on over to the mall. Mom got her hair done and I wandered the long and winding path of the shopper. The local purveyor of smelly things was having a sale; I wound up with a pair of candles and some very nice lotion (lotus fruit and clean linen for the candles, japanese cherry blossoms for the other). I found the totebag of my dreams a little farther on, along with a soft, slightly decorative t-shirt. Further excursions led me to a vendor who insisted on introducing me to the wonders of salts from the Dead Sea - and while they were indeed wonderful, I wasn't quite willing to cough up the associated dollars. End result, light and harmless flirtation in pursuit of a sale on his part, and some very soft hands on mine. Wait... that sounds wrong...

And the surprise delight of the evening: while grocerying (grocing? what, precisely, is the gerund-ish version of that one? hmm.), we encountered the pickled okra I've been craving for months! It's not exactly commonplace around here, so this was something of a feat. (I only got hooked on them in Wyoming, myself.) Tonight, though, I stocked up on the elusive little bastards while I had the chance. For those who haven't yet encountered them, they're a bit like a normal pickle, except the skin is tougher, the seeds are more numerous and smaller, and they're covered in a light fuzz. Yay for fuzzy pickles.

Now I'm home again, doing battle with the persistent pooch. He thinks I should play ball. I think I shouldn't. He's winning, but only by virtue of his diabolical scheme. He drops the ball in my lap, where it then migrates under the desk. If I don't retrieve it - and yes, I am fully aware of the irony there, especially given his breed - he barks. Since the rest of the house is asleep, this is a bad thing. Darn him and his selective cleverness.

There's a lazy moon in the sky and it's been a peaceful night. I'm off to bed - provided I can hide the toys successfully - but here's hoping your days were just as pleasant.

ETA: Apparently, 'grocerying' will get you 'crucifying' when you run a spell check. Huh. So... not the right term, I'm guessing. Also, vaguely disturbing.

Comments

[feartheotter.livejournal.com]

It HAS been a pleasant day isn't it.

Soft hands, eh? *raises eyebrow in typically perverse fashion*

Lazy moons all round. The best aspect of summer, methinks.

And I believe it's grocering, but I'm not sure...

[feartheotter.livejournal.com]

Hmm. The grammar of the first comment there speaks to my relaxed state, apparently :x

[stillane.livejournal.com]

Hee. Grammar is overrated. No author or work which ever achieved the distinction of 'classic' has adhered to it slavishly. Point first, rules second, I say. Yeah. You can just guess how much my high school English teachers loved me. :>

And yes, very soft hands. *wiggles eyebrows in response* I tend to fight an eternal battle with them, given how much washing is involved in the typical vet/lab day. I might have to break down and acquire some of this salt stuff afterall. Either that, or invest in some more of the Rosemary Mint cream I picked up, which turns out to be surprisingly nice.

Can't see the moon tonight - and by the way, we didn't float away after all :> - but I trust it's just as lovely as last night's. I'm hoping for clear skies soon, though, since the local fireworks extravaganza is on Tuesday. I look forward to them every year; I think it goes along with the fondness of storms.

[enname.livejournal.com]

Quiet days are good days. As long as they are quiet for any reason that does not involve annhilation of the world due to a nuclear holocaust. Although, that would be pleasurably quiet too. Just painful.

Ha! When I was in the UK I was accosted by a vender who was trying to sell me the wonders of the Dead Sea in hand care products. I am a hard sell (read that has have no money) and so he flirted outrageously for an hour and gave me what was essentially a free manicure. I didn't purchase a thing, but had fun and got a free nail buffer. So yes, soft hands are lovely even if wrong sounding.

Grocerying, grocing, grocerating, to grocer ... although that last sounds very wrong. Considering you get people who are titled grocer. Vaguely kinky. Huh.

I know okra (good soup) but pickles? I do not understand these pickles things you speak of. Pickled onion, pickled ginger (mmmm sushi) and pickled herring, but pickles? Ah, I must find out. :)

Sleep well and goodluck defeating the diabolical dog :)

[stillane.livejournal.com]

any reason that does not involve annihilation of the world due to a nuclear holocaust

You appear to have given this option far too much thought. Should I be nervous? Admit it: you're secretly an evil overlord plotting the destruction of the entire human race. Possibly via laser. Or Teletubby. (Me, I've always suspected the world will end with a round, smiling, vaguely metrosexual figure wearing purple. Like the mutant lovechild of Lex Luthor and Buddha.)

No pickles?! Wow. I would never have guessed that this one was a particularly American thing. Huh. Pickles... How to explain pickles... Well, the pickled veggie in question here is a cucumber, and the default setting is 'dill'. These tend to be about four inches long, and come in slices, wedges, or whole. Other variations - depending on region - include butter pickles (which are sweeter), hot and sour pickles (which are self explanatory), and gherkins (which I cannot describe, and yet enjoy). Around here, it's pretty common for people to can their own, too.

Here's hoping you're on the healthy side of things and getting to enjoy some rest. :>

[enname.livejournal.com]

*shifty* I was thinking of a movie! Yes, that was it. A movie, and it influenced my typing to make me sound like an evil overloard plotting the destruction of the entire human race. It has nothing to do with the lab beneath the house with the acronym EOPDEHR on the door. Nope.

Teletubbies with lasers. Or perhaps even Teletubbies aided by Dorothy the Dinosaur as the go on some sort of Godzilla inspired rampage. Only the teletubby will be sitting back in its command quarters make pop culture references to Dr. Evil and Lex Luthor.

Oh crap. Shhhh, you read nothing of that.

Ahh! I know what a gherkin is. *nod* My mum uses them in salads and stuff. I like them in summer. Um, I guess the only pickle you are going to encounter here is in McDonald's hamburgers, and as I would rather eat my own flesh ... :P Wow, I have just had a pickle education. *beams proudly* Thank you, I am ahead of the majority of Australia because I can talk about butter pickles and other sorts. Hah! Part of my cunning world domination plan.

See you say pickle to me and I think of pickled onion or pickle as in a type of conserve made out of tomato and onion. Pickled. :P You know if you type the word pickle out more than three times it begins to look rather strange.

Health is nearly restored and I am commencing relaxation now. *melts*

[eccentric_hat]

I'm going to take the possibly unpopular step of suggesting there's not a "grocery" verb, in gerund or otherwise. OED suggests "grocer" literally means the person with the gross amounts of food, so the "er" is more as in "homelander" than, say, "hunter." You can say "grocering" if you want (you can say anything if you want) but it sounds to me like the act of being a grocer, rather than buying their goods...

More importantly, I'm happy you had a good day. And I'm a little bit scared of the fuzzy pickles.

[stillane.livejournal.com]

I am saddened to discover there is no verb for this act. There ought to be some distinction between the procurement of foods and the purchase of other goods. Damn you, Webster, and your lack of vision. *g*

(Also, I love the fact that you can authoritatively answer such a question. I have the coolest friends. Hee.)

Do not fear the fuzzy pickles! The fuzzy pickles are grand and wonderful! They bring peace and harmony wherever they go! Or, well... at least a nifty new taste sensation. I have been told by reliable, okra-despising sources that, despite an aversion to both the vegetable in its natural state and traditional pickles, these are quite appealing.

Hope the whirlwind of publishing splendor is going well up there. Your reports sound amazing. :>

[eccentric_hat]

I cannot really claim that the authority you note is mine; it stems entirely from the all-powerful Oxford English Dictionary.

Apropos of almost nothing, your description of the fuzzy pickles reminds me of the Edward Monkton cards that are all over the place in England, and in some parts of the states too, e.g. http://www.officedog.co.uk/6558.product.html

The publishing whirlwind is just that. Currently I'm back to finding authors for hypothetical books. Wish me luck.