The River: it's not just a tag anymore.

Somehow the River has transmogrified itself from a series of introspective LJ posts into a Project. I have a directory with a handful of draft posts in progress in it, a to.do file with half-a-dozen more ideas, and an archive with some 20K words worth of posts in it (since the end of May, and not particularly complete at that; a quick check with wget and wc gets more like 40K, but that's an overestimate because many posts with the tag are only partially on-topic).

It occupies at least as much of my time and attention as filk music does these days. I'm starting to think of a wiki, and possibly even a book. (A Year on the River?) ( ETA: Before you ask: Yes, I would protect your privacy if I did anything like that )

I apologize in advance.

Once she called me and whispered her name...

...it was inevitable that we would get together.

( meet Flame Darling )

Purchased early this afternoon at The Starving Musician; Flame is an Ovation CC48, a little bit quieter and sweeter than her sister Ruby. Yeah, I know, the decorations are really leaves.

Thanks to Colleen for giving me permission, and to the Younger Daughter for giving me an excuse -- she found our borrowed Applause, which has a deeper body, to be quite awkward to play. In the end I ended up spending about the same on Flame as I had on chaoswolf's guitar Cindy, so things have a way of working out.

I'm something of a pushover when it comes to guitars; I looked longingly at a gorgeous, sweet-sounding Martin 12-string at Gryphon yesterday, and an Ovation bass at Guitar Showcase this morning. But none of them whispered their names to me.

At the mall with the RollyCat

After a nice walk (which I cut a little short because of pain in my right calf) and lunch, we went over to the nearest mall for some indoor exercise, and in the Cat's case just to get out of the house and have a little time with me. The Y.D. tagged along as well, for the shopping.

Parts of the upper floor in the mall are carpeted. It is noticably harder to push a wheelchair on carpet.

The Y.D. complained that I was walking too fast. In a mall. Pushing a wheelchair. Right. It's true that, given a clear stretch of hallway, I can get going at a pretty reasonable pace.

I got my exercise. No shopping to speak of, but that wasn't the objective; I'd done my financial damage earlier in the afternoon.

Made dinner: rice, and chicken drumsticks in a (bottled) Mexican lemon/lime marinade (in a non-stick 12" frying pan with a little olive oil and butter). Yum.