My eyes are filled with gods

Next week marks the first full week of actual during-the-summer vacation in ten years. (Almost a full week, I should say — I have to go in one afternoon to teach a class.)  I think I could get used to this “having help during summer deadlines” thing, although the “preparing for a week off ” part thing is murder.

So, a tiring week. And I’ve forgotten any postable ideas that briefly bubbled to the surface.

Instead, here are my two favorite post-Europeans, at least for today. One’s joined the Cult of America and the other’s technically still the Queen’s spy, after all.  Also, is anyone else unsurprised that Craig Ferguson is a Lovecraft fan? Neil Himself does make an amusing point about HPL’s characters.

Elsewhere…

• Erin Palette is spending the week analyzing the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic cast as analogues to the classic D&D adventuring party. I’m curious whether she’s going to go cleric or ranger for Fluttershy. We shall see.
• Monica Valentinelli is running a contest for bloggers — write about your passion on your blog and send her the link, and you could win a $25 DriveThru gift certificate or other goodies.
• Note to self:  Self, keep an eye on The Moulettes, Caravan Palace, and Clockwork Dolls

It waits. It watches. And then, when it thinks to catch us unaware, it pounces like an angry, stealth rhino of doom. If the angry rhino was an ice-filled gutter outside the bedroom window and, in fact, the exact opposite of stealthy.

Okay, granted, we should’ve tackled the great northern ice shelf sooner, given the winter we’ve had. But still. At least the House is lazy, too. The only thing it managed to kill (this time) was the outdoor light that overlooks the flat roof in back. I ought to teach ‘em a lesson … just you wait. I’m so gonna pummel ‘em in their sleep. I’m gonna … meh. On second that, that seems like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll just … yeah, I’ll just take a swing that convenient and inoffensive light fixture, just hanging out, minding its own business, and have a nice lie-down on the first-floor roof. Take THAT, light fixture. Oof. Snow! So comfy… Sloth wins. Again.

The gutter began its slow, agonizing decent with a loud, House-shaking crash around 1:30 AM Monday morning. It continued with a series of additional loud, House-shaking crashes throughout the rest of the night. Will, in his role as a Man of Action, used the window of doom as a doorway out to the flat roof since we’re currently ladder-deficient. He spent a good part of Monday clearing out the snow accumulation and carting icebergs off the roof while we waited for emergency roofers to come assess the damage. (Because we all know how well I cope with the possibility of water getting into the roof these days.) I helped. By that I mean I mostly handed things through the window, got in touch with the roofers, and fretted about him plummeting to his doom from an icy rooftop. Because if there’s one thing the women in my family can do, it’s fret.

The roofers (roofies? hm…on second thought…) were helpful and practical and half-spider monkey, I think, which normally would not endear them to me at all, but in this case it meant they got to climb all over the roof instead of Will. So I’m calling that a win. Also, they had some sealant with them and sealed up some tears in the rubber sheeting around one of the chimneys while they were getting their monkeyshines on. Awesome. I would totally call these guys again. And in fact, I probably will once the world thaws, since we’re now in need of a new gutter and all.

Gutter Assassin Aftermath: Sounds like an anime title, doesn't it?

Will Sweet: Man of Action, in mid-iceberg removal