June 8th, 2009


(no subject)

Night before last, I dreamed obsessively about tile. That was pretty bad.

Last night, I had a bizarre and complex nightmare about a zombie apocalypse--I've been playing a lot of "Plants vs. Zombies," I grant you, but these were not cheerful googly-eyed zombies, these were quasi-intelligent fast zombies, more on the order of the possessed or the body-snatched. This would have been difficult enough to deal with, but there were also giant Tripods on the loose (probably controlling the zombies) which would show up Steven-Spielburg-remake-of-War of the Worlds style*, and drop a whole horde of bug-like critters, ala Cloverfield, which would run around attacking people.

From this we can gather that my subconscious has a hard time keeping movies straight.

Anyway, it was long and complicated and unpleasant. It was one of those where I was just barely able to nudge the dream in points--not like lucid dreaming or anything, but while I couldn't change the script, I could write in additional bits. Mostly those involved Ben and Gir, who were traveling with me. So I'd be running through a labyrinthine ruined building, beams down everywhere, in some weird little Mad Max-esque frontier town, hiding from zombies with shotguns (zombies should not get shotguns! Shotguns are for protagonists!) who are charging absurd tolls on the road through town, get involved in a trial the zombies are holding on a normal individual, get loose, dodge more shotguns, hide from Tripod searchlights, fend off an amorous female zombie who thinks I'd be a great girlfriend if I'd be a little more undead, blow up the building--and as I'm hurrying off down the sidewalk, Ben would jump on my shoulder. Apparently I was using all of my dream-altering mojo keeping the pets around. (Typical.)

I kept trying to get back to this farm that apparently Kevin and I owned, and I kept getting trapped in buildings, or driving like a lunatic on the freeway with a giant Tripod chasing me. I woke up before I got back.

Ironically, it still wasn't as bad as all those hellish dreams the night before that the tile had been cut wrong.

*Including that specific grinding-siren sound effect.


(no subject)

I promised a sun conure with heart, and here it is!

Sun Conure with Heart*

ETA: It's being suggested that the heart may be shoved into his beak to shut him up. Apparently these are very noisy birds, in addition to be gorgeous. *grin*

Quite a lot going on today--it looks like Digger 4 may be out at Anthrocon, and will be available for orders in July! (Links as they happen!) Dragonbreath, of course, is hitting stores Thursday--Kevin has made plans to go around Saturday and scour every bookstore in a forty mile radius looking for it--and there's some other cool stuff in the works that I hope to announce shortly.

*The breathtaking originality of this title will doubtless outlast the painting itself.


More Defective Wildlife

Man, it's a wildlife day in the front yard. A female summer tanager is taking a dramatic splashing bath, various unidentified sparrows are on the feeder, a hummingbird is bopping around the Texas sage...and there is a deer standing in the yard.

Just standing there. Early afternoon, broad daylight, deer just...stands there. Brazen doesn't even begin to cover it.

The mail arrived, and the deer peered down the driveway with the mild expression of one expecting a package in the next day or two. Apparently this was not the deer's day, because the mail car drove off. The deer turned away and began picking her way across the yard. Binoculars trained on her picked up something weird about the ears. They looked freckled, or spotted, or mottled or something. When she turned her head, many of the freckles seemed oddly raised.

Googling led me to bad places involving the concentration of ticks behind the ears in deer. When you can see a tick infestation with binoculars, there is something wrong with the world. In this case, there was a LOT wrong with the world. That single deer was like a walking vector of doom. There were hundreds.

My love of gardening and dedication to the well-being of my plants is greater than my fear of ticks...mostly...but I don't think any gardening is getting done this week.