David Cunningham (The Path to 9/11) has been tapped to direct The Dark Is Rising, a fantasy film based on Susan Cooper’s book series, Variety reported.
Full story here (not horribly extensive, but it’s the reference.)
This could either go very well, or be very disappointing. As usual.
You would not believe the volume of email I have been receiving about the Anna Valerious costume I made for Hallowe’en 2004.
For public edification and reference, the corset pattern I kitbashed was Simplicity 9769. I can no longer find the pattern I used as a basis for the coat, but something easy like Simplicity 4323 would work very well as a basis, if you lengthened the body a bit and cut the ends of the sleeves wider.
You’re welcome.
PS: No, it’s not for sale. Didn’t you read the bits about the hot glue, and safety pins?
One of the things we talked about last night with good friends, all of us unwinding from a long stressful week, was Anna Russell.
And today, I learned this:
A great loss for both the world of opera, and the world of humour.
Today for the first time, Liam is wearing a pair of blue leather size 7 Buster Brown ankle boots. They’re awesome boots, from the box of things my cousin sent up for me when Liam was born. But — size 7? Yikes. His feet have grown so much in the past three months. I’m hoping they slow down, like the rest of his growing has, because these are a seriously cool pair of shoes.
I had my annual checkup with the doctor today. Good news: I’m not dead. Remarkably far from it, actually.
And WHY has no one told me that Colm Feore did a guest spot on BSG? Did none of you think to do it, or were you all complicit in the plan to keep it a surprise until I saw that particular season 2 episode?
As you were.
I got to meet a couple of people I’d only ever chatted with online with last night. Yay!
I received compliments on my red shoes. More yay!
Why are people so amazed that I actually screamed onstage, and more than once? It was in the script, after all…
(Overheard: “Has she been on stage before?” I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.)
As HRH and I were driving home at midnight, I had the oddest craving for Lafleur’s poutine, and I was totally mystified as to why I was craving something that I haven’t had in years. About four minutes from home I finally said out loud, “I have a really odd craving for Lafleur’s poutine, and I have no idea why.” I heard the words as I said them, and suddenly I knew exactly why: t! and I used to stop by Lafleur’s after an evening rehearsal once every week, because we’d be very awake and ravenous after working for two and a half hours. I’d order poutine, he’d order a Michigan, and we’d sit and talk.
“Would you like a poutine?” said HRH.
I almost brushed it off with a laugh, but then I paused and thought about it. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I think I do.”
“Then we will go to Lafleur’s and get you a poutine,” said HRH, and so we drove to the Lafleur’s just around the corner, and he bought me a poutine. I brought it home, washed up and changed, curled up in bed and ate it, ate every single bit of it. The gravy was a bit too peppery, but the nostalgia tasted wonderful.
Tarasmas was a phenomenal success this year, as in previous years. This one, however, was particularly poignant (it saw the final chapter of the Dickens Carter saga), ambitious (the production of four (four!) radio dramas), and multi-layered (the inclusion of an overarching metastory of backstage production). We enjoyed a PI story, a soap opera, a horror story, and a superhero story, all linked together by the director character, a main actor character, the narrator character, and the stage manager character.
t! is a genius, of course. He’s a brilliant writer (something I can honestly say is common among the people I know, and it’s not just because a lot of them make a living by doing it), has excellent sense of casting, a beautiful understanding of what his audience wants and can take, and, above all, a real desire to entertain and share his birthday with forty other people.
ADZO put it this way:
It’s a unique experience, what t! has done with Tarasmas. The idea of participating and watching, of being and not being part of the show, plus the self-organizing chaos surrounding everything is special.
For those who aren’t familiar with Tarasmas, it’s the celebration of the inestimable t!’s birthday. t! writes two to three hours’ worth of radio dramas, and casts the attendees of the party in various roles. A very few people get a script ahead of the evening itself, if they have a very large role or a part that requires tricky delivery. In general, however, people get their scripts a half-hour before they go on the stage, and never do they get a script for the entire evening (unless, again, they require one, such as those who are on every page or so), for that would spoil the fun.
t! rents the hall, provides drinks, everyone brings snacks and specific beverages if they desire them, and away we go.
It’s a hilarious way to spend the evening. There are inside jokes, genre send-ups, homages, and the fun of seeing people enjoy themselves on and off the stage. The most touching thing, however, is knowing that this is t!’s gift to us, every year. The planning, writing (this year clocked in at somewhere around 21K of words), and execution are handled by t! (now with the support of his lovely assistant ai731), in a beautiful turnabout of the birthday tradition.
We love Tarasmas. We get to see people we don’t see very often. We get to act. We get to laugh until we cry. We get to appreciate the artistry of the writing, the talent of everyone involved, and the giant conglomeration of history and source culture behind it all. And we embrace the opportunity to celebrate a dear friend.
Happy birthday, t!. And thank you for everything that you give us, both at this time of year and the other three hundred and sixty four days. Life would be the poorer for us all without you.
Forty-ish pages left to go on this tech read. I’m pretty relaxed when it comes to doing tech reads on others’ books — after all, so much is subjective in the realm of alternative spirituality — but still, there are things I read that make me scratch my head. It’s usually a result of the author thinking one thing and the phrasing indicating something different, which isn’t immediately obvious to the person writing because they know what they meant. Been there, so understand that.
I updated Firefox this afternoon and consequently lost the ability to view a bunch of web pages. I allowed this to lurk in the background of my mind as I collected the boy from daycare and by the time he was eating dinner the common element between them all had become clear. I sat down and clicked through the Options until I found the Java and Javascript radio buttons, clicked them on, and all’s well again.
Also, I have discovered BitTorrent.
Liam had his first bubble bath last night. Hilarity ensued as he repeatedly ducked the ducks under the bubbles then let them go, giggling as they rose from the depths. Splashing is also more fun in a bubble bath, because he can’t see exactly where the surface of the water is.
I’ve been remarkably cold these past couple of days. I’d forgotten how damp and chilly my office gets in fall and winter. I have to remember to wear slippers and have a cardigan handy. I may find a small rug for under the desk itself; that would help too.
We watched the first episode of the second season of BSG a couple of nights ago (yes, we are way, waaay behind; no cable, remember?). Blade lent us the entire second season on DVD, so I think we’ll be watching another episode tonight.
We lost a fish today. She somehow got her tail stuck in the intake for the filter, and we surmise that while wriggling desperately to get herself out she managed to kind of crush her back end and wedge herself in more firmly. ‘Twas a goodly fish, though dumb (hello, goldfish?), and we will replace her this weekend. Most likely with two fish, because three seems to be a good number for Liam’s tank.
That is all for now.