GoT S08 Episode 3 (Spoilers, yo.)

Okay, so I'd have done it differently and all the fan force galore and their theories, some exceptionally good, (so good the reality was disappointing by comparison) have all proven moot. But it was a good episode. Makes you remember why there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Starks, combined, more or less, keep it standing. 

I told G that I'd have loved to see NK enter the crypts and walk towards Sansa or something like that and end them all to keep her as his statuesque frozen mute bride. The General said: why would anyone want an annoying nagging broad after winning? He doesn't reproduce that way. Only thing worse than a nagging broad is warm beer and since he's an ice king, he has no problem with warm beer. 

There were some AWESOME slo-mo shots of Severian in this episode, some exceptionally Sephirothian, really cool music timed just right (fuck, that face ... who launched a thousand cockless armies), or creepy silences  in the dark, Hound waking up out of his fear of fire for his love of Arya, Tyrion re-proposing Sansa in a way, the Red witch telling Arya about shutting blue eyes and Arya then doing her ninja knife swap move on our boi, which makes little sense considering he already has a black glass shard in his heart, but ... Oh, no, wait, that knife was Valyrian steel on one end, right? Right, okay, that makes more sense. All in all, with the soundtrack, montage, with Bran's face, with NK's face, nobody blinking, with fire and snow, the mindless despair of it all, cheating wildly with raising the dead in mid-game, I have no fucking idea how many dragons made it, it was a great episode. There would have been a way to make him seem nicer if he communicated more with Bran, like if someone said something to the other or if he, after being stabbed, would just collapse or something, to Bran's feet, and Bran would finally remove the shard and liberate his torment. I'll read into their microscopic facial expression changes that Bran checked out NK's heart and NK was all like: you think you know me, minnow?

Nobody really important died and the only really sad death was the little bitch countess. Now that Martin is no longer in charge there's clearcut 'good guys' and 'bad guys' and good guys win and live.

Dark, terrible, scary and broody. They did good. May go a little downhill afterward, but that's okay. 

Now we're back to fighting normal people for normal reasons. Gods, I hope nobody survives and the last shot of the entire episode is not some smiley sunrise and a couple holding a baby or shit like that, but Sevarian's frozen corpse in the ice far North, sleeping, still existing by the ugly magic that made him in the first place, waiting for the next comet to bring fire magic back-

Spent an unexpectedly lovely day all over the place. It was gonna rain, so we made no plans to go to anyone's estate to lend hands, but once we woke up and stopped fooling around and the clouds were too high for rain, we mutually proposed to go uphill to my parents' place and try to mow the vineyard. It is not as easy as it sounds, even with two people doing it. I use the four-wheel garden mower and G uses the carried-on-his-back stick saw mower - I should be able to do the level parts and he the terraces. Unfortunately, none of the terrain is so easily classified - most of the terraces have collapsed and my mower cannot get through the lines and what's worse, the grass in some parts is so fine and dense it keeps killing the spin. The blade continues to get literally glued to the mush salad it creates, meaning I have to topple the machine aside, get it unstuck and then try and start it again, even though these things don't enjoy starting when they're too hot. And my favorite bit - the terrain is so steep that getting the mower from one terrace to the next requires the entirety of my strength WHILE I am holding onto something, lowering it - the damn thing has no breaks and if I were to slip, it would either hurt me or roll off the hill into the valley. 

      By the time I did what I could and reached the orchard, which means the end of the vineyard, I was so tired I could not lift my arms. 

      Meanwhile, although the clouds kept rolling over, threatening storms, mum used a small spray to apply pesticides to the shoots and dad made chicken for lunch. Yummy chicken salad. I showered the General in the meanwhile, because when you're using the stick mower quite a bit of the meadow finds its way into your overall appearance. It is not an exaggeration when I say you are green when you're done and in need of good scrubbing. 

      All along our plan was to go see the Avengers: Endgame, early show, my treat, our first time in the movies this year. G won't admit to liking it, but it was a good movie and it helped that I've seen most of the ones building up to it, even the bad ones. It made even more sense that there were no - spoilers! - end credits in this one (While G nagged, because he is not the type to sit through credits) and when the credits rolled through you could hear a collective: Oh, the fuck?! thorough the remaining sitters. Adorable. 

      Lastly, we had an impromptu McDonald's snack dinner, getting some yummy burgers and ice-cream and we're just chilling now. Good sleep, good food, good sex, good exercise, good movie, good coffee, good post-movie debate. All in all a good, improvised (except for the film) Saturday and, complete with dramatic weather, one of those perfect chill days. I'm editing some photos now, slowly, listening to YouTube Night King theories galore, watching my paints dry, and G's watching how to make your own ax using medieval technology. Dog's passed out from chasing goat-willow seeds through the air all morning. 

 

I am so terrible. I actually can't wait to find out what happens in the next episode of GoT. Can't wait to see Severian* again. If he shows up.

* it's what I call the Night King. It's better than Big Frosty.

Fucking nerd overload. I've written two fan fictions this week alone. Lemme know you guys if you wanna read one.

Almost there, munchkin

Went through 300 + tubs of three different sizes in two days. I mean nights. Slept none. A little in the afternoon and only because G dragged me to bed. As soon as he was out, I went back to mulling. I freaking love this shit. I have so much material left, even though the pre-prepared gum arabic spoilt and I had to go back to using the powdered backup. My biceps' look great. 

Need more tubs and luckily they take a month to arrive, otherwise, I'd probably do something stupid like trip on a full tray of wet paint. You wouldn't think it, but that's just three tiny trays and I have SO many more ideas! I haven't even begun to experiment. Do have more greens than others combined, which is not shocking.  Only one of the paints is useless and only one turned out ugly. But you never know. I personally think white is ugly. Tastes wary. 

They will now take two or three weeks to properly dry - some lose 4/5 of their volume, and some just foam like cheese. (Had to re-mull and re-pour one of the yellows). Then we fill them again and then again. Then they should finally be ready, fickle little bastards. Adorable bastards. 

 

Had zero idea this is even possible. Ah, dreams.... (Backcountry skating.)

So, because if you're going to masturbating A LOT regarding the Night King before he is summarily executed, probably stabbed (again, in reverse) by one of the children on the show, fantasizing about skating the rivers and lakes of his realm is probably the way to get his attention. (I don't usually wear many clothes in dreams either.) I had a dream tonight in which I was skating and he was riding (he was naked, but the horse had good ice traction), and when I say skating I mean I was killing on makeshift primeval bone skates up the endless river highways and the whole thing looked approximately like this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0OujAf-ThhY

I should probably mention that I have only ever seen two movies regarding skating in my life - The Cutting Edge (1992) and I, Tonya (Okay, and Yuri on Ice), and have been in a rink once, when I was really little, usually on my ass. I would never go near a frozen river ever and if I tried putting rollerskates, chances are I would break both my arms within the first three seconds. 

But fuck that was a good dream. 

I'll post some more links...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHAV3NpmXrA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_jJntnnEYE

Sheewt, some of my chemicals fermented. Sheewkedy sheewt. :/

Organic chemistry blows. No, I mean, seriously, it blew off the cork.

Personality test results :D

Well... according to Hexaco traits results, I am superlative in:

Honesty-humility,

Greed-avoidance, 

Organization

Openness to experience,

Aesthetic appreciation

Inquisitiveness

Creativity 

and unconventionality.

On the minus, I am deeply sub-par in 

Sentimentality

Social self-esteem

Extraversion

Sociability

Agreeableness

Forgiveness

Patience

Prudence

and altruism.

The rest are bland

(Sincerity, fairness, modesty, emotionality, fearfulness, anxiety, dependence, social boldness, gentleness, flexibility, consciousnesses, perfectionism.)

... Guess I should have posted I'm positively *heartbroken* over that church's roof burning down instead of asking people on Twitter: do you have any idea how many churches there are?. 

Senses or no sense

What amazes me from time to time is that things exist but I am not able to perceive them. Factual things and I am simply not registering. Like, because my hearing isn't quite so perfect (deaf as a doorstop) sometimes G would say: do you hear the music coming in from the street? No. I'm not. There exists/is happening music somewhere in the street (we live above the main street in an old town), but I am not hearing it. Or we'd come home and he'd say: The whole place still smells like the apple pie you made yesterday.

It does? That seems wonderful. I'm glad you can enjoy it. To me it is a spiritual mystery with some imagination sprinkled on top :P

A big fancy church on fire in France and people are screaming the end of the world and hope. For fuck's sakes, priorities. It's 800 years old, this can't be its first fire. And I am almost divinely certain that the Church will find a way to make people donate restoration money and the whole thing will be wonderfully wholesome again in a month or so. 

This one cherry tree (I cannot get enough of...)

Some more promos for the #SlowReader Instagram .. - the Tiny booklets