Dear Yuletide Writer,

As always, good luck! I am truly delighted and grateful that I've got a match. (Or a pinch hitter! I've gotten pinch hitters before and I love you, too! You chose me! You brave, weird souls, you.)

I'm mostly on tumblr these days so if you want to know what I find pretty/funny/sexy/baffling, feel free to check me out at ladyvyola

So, first the big picture then a little more specificity on what I like about each request.

( My Yuletide Philosophy )

( Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (1988) )

( Now You See Me (2013) )

( Lord Darcy Series - Randall Garrett )

Go forth and may the Spirit of the Yuletide Hippo be with you!

I have received a delightful story and left a comment.

The story I wrote has been charmingly commented on by its recipient.

It has also been kudos'd and commented on by others.

YULETIDE ACHIEVEMENTS UNLOCKED!

Everything from here on out is gravy.

Now go read blame it upon a rush of blood to the head, the saga of Shannon and Amy, two sisters looking for love (sometimes in the wrong places) in a world where the Appliance Murderer is causing devastating brain trauma and sudden death with the most unorthodox of weaponry.

Remember, "Walk slowly, walk with constant awareness to your surroundings, don’t get distracted.” Wise words even when rogue appliances aren't lurking around every corner. (Fandom: Sears Appliance Commercials. Don't judge me, it's Yuletide.)

Oh, man! I'm a part of history!

I just got an e-mail from Jeremy Crawford. The message, in all its terse, misspelled glory:

Subject: fanficiton

do you write fanfiction.

Boy, given my output these last *cough* years, is he barking up the wrong tree.

He's gotta be the Dread Troll Crawford, right? A legacy passed down from generation to generation, always lurking, always waiting, always asking....

Really, Blacklist? Really?

You’ve got Tom Noonan as a serial killer with someone strapped into a wheelchair? Really.

I’d accuse you of cannibalism, but that would be rude....

And while I'm still cranky about Luther....

We start in media res with Luther essentially torturing a suspect for information. Congratulations. If the past decade has taught us anything, it's that anyone can torture. There's no super-duper exceptional detective skills going on here.

After he realizes that Alice murdered her parents, he does nothing. He doesn't put her under surveillance, he doesn't question anyone in her or her parents' lives to see if anyone ever noticed friction or resentment. He just keeps confronting her. And he seems far more intent on making her acknowledge just how smart he is despite going on and on about how she is the one who wants that recognition.

And his little stunt with the gun and the flame in his boss's office? He reads as dangerously manic, either unwilling to stop when she says to because he must have absolute control of what happens and when or unable to stop because he cannot control himself.

Why am I supposed to buy that this guy is a good man, an effective policeman, an admirable person in any way?

Also, I don't accept a word of the scene where he calls Alice and insists that love exists. That was never her argument. She was saying that what he labeled as love for Zoe was a perversion of everything love is supposed to be. As far as I'm concerned, his explicit actions support Alice's stance.

See that cutie in the icon?

He's 9 today.

The horde came over last night and he was definitely more excited about the Marvel Lego set than the berry Octo-pie. Eh, he's a picky eater sometimes, declaring he's "never liked" something that's always been his favorite.

But everyone else was very enthusiastic, both about the flavor and the form. So much so that I'm most likely going to be doing a peach pie for Spenser's 8th birthday next month (I'll do a flower and butterfly crust, I think). Ellie, who will be 6 the month after that, is see-sawing between a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting or a cheesecake with chocolate sauce.

A cheesecake.

I'm so proud. And terrified. And proud. (And terrified. I've never made a cheesecake before. But I do have springform pans, so apparently I'm qualified.)

I PRESENT TO YOU... THE OCTO-PIE!



( Octo-pie behind the scenes )

Okay, as mentioned before, we're trying the "no cooking without using something from the garden as often as possible because dear god, Cthulhu is growing in the cuke beds and I'm afraid the herb pots are plotting a coup" thing (note to self: must find some way to shorten this).

Last night was an A+ effort, with herb-crusted pan-seared chicken breasts (2 kinds of rosemary, lemon thyme, golden sage), capellini al limone (basil), and caprese salad (more basil plus homemade balsamic reduction, though alas no homegrown tomatoes yet). And Monday was a repeat of the excellent garlic-cilantro-lime marinated thighs with sweet chili sauce.

So... leftovers tonight. But all is not abandoned! Leftovers can be freshened up with a lovely salad.

( more large envy-inducing pics )

SEND HELP. MY TV IS TUNED TO NBC SPORTS CHANNEL. BRUINS VS PENGUINS.

I DO NOT KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. HELP HELP HELP.

MY HOUSEMATE WILL BE HOME SOON. HE WILL POINT AND LAUGH.

THIS IS A DISASTER IN THE MAKING.

HELP HELP HELP.

... I BLAME ALL OF YOU.

Also, I cannot tell one Staal from another and can only assume that they have bar codes on the backs of their necks courtesy of the cloning process so that whoever is fighting and/or fucking them can tell the difference.

92°in April in Northern Virginia.

What is this I cannot even.