Cimorene

Well, guys, last fall when I was having a nervous breakdown my doctor was having some trouble finding a good medication to prescribe to help me sleep, and she landed on mirtazapine, which is actually an antidepressant, but has a strong history of off-label use as a sleep aid.

You can take half a pill or a quarter of a pill, something like that, at bedtime, my doctor said, and hopefully this will help you sleep. And this medication has a weird curve where it acts differently at high doses and if you want you can take a full tablet in the morning as a mood lifter. (This is all paraphrased.)

I tried a half-tablet of mirtazapine for insomnia last fall at one point, and found it made it very hard to wake up the next day. I quickly switched to quarter tablets and even eighth tablets, on a tip from the pharmacist ("Many people find an eighth works even better than a quarter"). I never took this every night, and gradually got out of the habit because I have mostly not been having much insomnia and my greater concern is how hard it is to wake up in the morning.

So until yesterday I actually never had taken a whole tablet, but I started thinking maybe I should try it recently. I have been feeling some of that weird ADHD-understimulation where it's like your brain itches, but all the things I tried to read or look at or draw didn't help and it still felt kind of... boring. I don't really like the term 'boredom' in this explanation for that reason, but all the information I can find about ADHD understimulation emphasizes it and most of it is about taking things you like to do along when you have to sit through boring lectures etc which is not what's going on for me at all (and which I have already been doing my whole life). Reading is my silver-bullet distraction that always works. Maybe the problem is that understimulation isn't really what's going on.

But anyway! Yesterday I decided to give it a try. So I took one tablet with my meds after breakfast and then I just. Got very sleepy inside like half an hour and slept for... five hours, and then woke up from hunger and only managed to stay up long enough to eat a banana and two pieces of toast before falling back asleep for another five hours. I ate the dinner Wax made and managed to sit there half awake for a couple of hours before going to bed and sleeping another twelve hours.

It's like the day is just gone!

"And, by my faith, he is a man of steel, as true and as pure, but as hard and as pitiless. You remember the Cock of Capperlaw, whom he hanged over his gate for a mere mistake—a poor yoke of oxen taken in Scotland, when he thought he was taking them in English land? I loved the Cock of Capperlaw; the Kerrs had not an honester man in their clan, and they have had men that might have been a pattern to the Border—men that would not have lifted under twenty cows at once, and would have held themselves dishonoured if they had taken a drift of sheep, or the like, but always managed their raids in full credit and honour."

What a fascinating look at 16th century Scottish border life. It's totally honorable to steal a large herd of cows from an English target, but the fewer you steal (presumably because of the relative poverty of their owner) the more morally questionable, so the most honorable lads are raiding large quantities of livestock from wealthy English landowners. Meanwhile, stealing any amount of livestock from another Scottish person is punishable by death.

Their stately offices—their pleasant gardens—the magnificent cloisters constructed for their recreation, were all dilapidated and ruinous; and some of the building materials had apparently been put into requisition by persons in the village and in the vicinity, who, formerly vassals of the Monastery, had not hesitated to appropriate to themselves a part of the spoils. Roland saw fragments of Gothic pillars richly carved, occupying the place of door-posts to the meanest huts; and here and there a mutilated statue, inverted or laid on its side, made the door-post, or threshold, of a wretched cow-house.

Mostly I'm just sad we don't have documentary photo evidence of this practice.

"My master has pushed off in the boat which they call the little Herod, (more shame to them for giving the name of a Christian to wood and iron,)[...]"

Old Keltie, the landlord, who had bestowed his name on a bridge in the neighbourhood of his quondam dwelling, received the carrier with his usual festive cordiality, and adjourned with him into the house, under pretence of important business, which, I believe, consisted in their emptying together a mutchkin stoup of usquebaugh.

Love to see whiskey in Gaelic.

“Peace, ye brawling hound!” said the wounded steward; “are dagger-stabs and dying men such rarities in Scotland, that you should cry as if the house were falling?”

*My wife is not really a dessert chef, it's just her hobby. She likes to watch French dessert chefs on YouTube.

For years one of our most frequently patronized restaurants was a Finnish chain of French provincial cuisine called Fransmanni and we got this cake every time we ate there. It's a miniature chocolate cake, approximately ramekin-sized, that would come upside down on the plate with a little scoop of vanilla icecream, and while the outside was cakey the inside was still liquid.

I was lying around yesterday, suffering through period cramps after taking my painkillers, and lamenting that I didn't buy any more peanut m&m's so I didn't have emergency chocolate, and saying for the millionth time that I wished I could have the miniature chocolate cake from Fransmanni, and it might not even be too hard to make, but I didn't even know what it was called... only then waxjism said she thought it was called gateau fondant.

Actually it turns out that it might not be called that because apparently people use this term for miniature cakes that are not liquid in the center? But people still call it that enough to bring the information up with those search terms. The Wikipedia entry about it in English is called "Molten chocolate cake" and gives the same origin stories as the French recipe blog we used, and here's what she said about it:

[C]hocolate fondant (or should I say molten cake? lava cake?) is really something the French bake very often at home and that became a great classic of French restaurants, form small bistrots to more fancy restaurants. It’s super quick and easy, only 5 ingredients.

Molten Chocolate Fondant - Zest of France

I got out the ingredients in a spurt of enthusiasm, but then waxjism jumped up and took over with her dessert chef skills! We only realized after the batter was done that it was a lot of batter and we don't have ramekins. Muffin tray was the only option, and there was some concern that it might not all fit in one mufffin tray, but it did: it made eleven muffin-size cakes out of a tray of twelve.

Then the muffin tray went in the fridge and we confronted the fact that we have only ever eaten one of these cakes at a time before (albeit slightly larger ones than the ones produced by the muffin tray), and that they are meant to be eaten straight out of the oven. They are so tiny that they bake in about ten minutes though, so waxjism came up with sliding the filled muffin cups on little bits of cardboard into small ziploc bags and freezing them. So we ate two each yesterday and baked two more today.




I had to take pictures even though they look almost comically unprepossessing. We were not inclined to break out fresh berries or whipped cream to plate it with though, so it is what it is. Trust me, it's incredible! Even though they are a little less cooked than the ideal amount here: the solid shell is a bit thinner than it was yesterday (they weren't room temperature yet when we put them in the oven.)

[H]e saw a slender glittering warrior come forth from the door [...], who stood for a moment looking round about, and then came lightly and swiftly toward him; and lo! it was the Sun-beam, with a long hauberk over her kirtle falling below her knees, a helm on her head and plated shoes on her feet.

—William Morris, The Roots of the Mountains

Mentions of this book before I read it indicated to me that it was the inspiration behind several chunks of The Lord of the Rings for Tolkien, one of these being the "warrior women". There is a woman who swears herself to the war-god as a result of being disappointed in love, and some other echoes of Eowyn's story discussed in my previous post on the subject, The romances of Morris's Roots of the Mountains as forerunners of those in LOTR. But saying that The Roots of the Mountains' fighting women inspired LOTR, though possibly true, is quite misleading, because there is so much more warrior woman in The Roots of the Mountains.

In The Roots of the Mountains, Victorian socialist and medieval fanboy William Morris created a fantasy version of pre-Christian central european Gothic tribes in an idyllic egalitarian agrarian society where women hold political influence and freely fight in war against barbaric colonizing enslavers.

This fantasy society isn't closely based on any sources - the nearest is the bits of the poem Hlöðskviða or "The Battle of the Goths and Huns" preserved in a 13th century Icelandic "legendary saga" (fornaldarsaga) (ie not a historical saga; though the poem doubtless has its origin in some real poems/songs) - and while the image of the Germanic warrior woman or Valkyrie certainly exists in Norse and germanic folklore, Morris's world in ROTM goes far beyond that. ( Read more... )

Of the three female main characters (out of five) in The Roots of the Mountains, one is The World's Greatest Archer, typically a woodswoman and huntress, and a fierce fighting maiden all the time; one is a young athlete who was always skilled at fighting and makes a vow to go to war as a result of her broken heart, but throws herself gloriously into the fighting as a leader of the people; and one is a wise political leader who refuses to take up arms herself, but goes into the battle in full armor with her people.

‘And when I go down to the battle,’ said he, ‘shalt thou be sorry for our sundering?’

She said: ‘There shall be no sundering; I shall wend with thee.’

Said he: ‘And if I were slain in the battle, would’st thou lament me?’

‘Thou shalt not be slain,’ she said.

There are still plenty of women who don't go to battle in The Roots of the Mountains, too, and their choice is valid! But the ability to fight and the will to fight are fully accepted and fairly widespread for women throughout the four societies he portrays, (1) the Burgdalers (town dwellers), (2) the shepherds, (3) the woodsfolk, and (4) the Children of the Wolf, who have been living hidden in Mirkwood, the forest which lies between the dalesmen and the eastern invaders, and protecting the border from their SECRET BASE in the hidden Shadowy Vale.

First we learn of the fighting women of the Children of the Wolf - a mysterious, rather fantastical people, throwbacks to the heroic age, and thus possibly more apt to exotic things like warrior maidens:

Then the Sun-beam spake to Gold-mane softly, and told him how this song was made by a minstrel concerning a foray in the early days of their first abode in Shadowy Vale, and how in good sooth a maiden led the fray and was the captain of the warriors:

‘Erst,’ she said, ‘this was counted as a wonder; but now we are so few that it is no wonder though the women will do whatsoever they may.’

(In The House of the Wolfings - that is, before the Wolfings came to the Shadowy Vale, and at least a couple of hundred years before ROTM - the army is made up mostly of men, but ( Read more... )) The Sun-beam's foster sister Bow-may intended from the first to fight, and takes the first opportunity to ask Face-of-god where he got his extremely good armor, and if she can have some:( Read more... )

But next we learn that the settled town-dwelling society of Burgdale, which at first seemed like a traditional early medieval setting, enthusiastically accepts the vow of the Bride to dedicate herself to the war god and fight in the battle for her people, and that many other young maidens are inspired to follow her example:( Read more... )

And finally when the fighters muster we see how many fighting women there are in the whole host: apparently eight, counting the Bride, out of 1 581 fighters from the Dale (Woodlanders and Folk of the Vine ie grape-growers); 50 women out of 235 Children of the Wolf. A sample of the muster scenes: ( Read more... )

Of the female fighters, we later learn that another besides the Bride was injured, and Bow-May's hand gets hurt and her bow broken, but she keeps fighting. Morris also portrays them fighting heroically alongside the male warriors in his battle scenes: ( Read more... )

I came up with 15 more icons, all of the "Five Choirs" wallhanging by Gunta Stölzl (1928). (This work is also seen in part 1 of my Gunta Stölzl icons #4 and 7 and in part 2 #6.)

As before, you may use, save, share, and modify these icons as you wish. Comments and credit are appreciated, but not required. (Crediting Gunta Stölzl is way more important than crediting me!)

(Not G)IP! After years and probably a hundred attempts to draw a version of my old default icon that I liked better than the original, last week I succeeded! I've wanted for a few years now to replace the vintage photo of Helen Kane that I've been using as a default since probably 2008ish?, but I would always get hung up at the last minute in a panic of identity crisis: how will anybody recognize me without a teal side-eyeing profile? (I have a constant urge to make my pixel Art Deco radio my default, but I just can't stand the strain of it being non-teal and not giving side-eye. But I wouldn't like it as much if I made it teal and gave it eyes!!!! It's a dilemma.)

Karar i arbeit. (This means "men at work" in a weird western Finland Swedish hick dialect and is the title of a song by Kaj, the Finland-Swedish band that Sweden are sending to Eurovision this year. And it's what waxjism has started saying anytime it is remotely relevant, I guess because it sounds funny to her.) The diggers are back this morning digging up the rest of the intersection next to our house. They dug up most of it in February and replaced some pipes, but then they've left it and most of the street below covered in compacted gravel since. The longer they leave it there, the likelier that our plumber will manage to get the digger guy to do the digging he needs to do to fix our pipe before they repave the road (not calling people back apparently applies also to contractors and not just to end customers! Great!), so I guess that's good. Possibly this development is bad, in fact (like what if they just keep going until they finish and then immediately start paving?). The cats like watching out the window though, and that's always cute.

At least a few flowers! All the maples are blossoming now, like little chartreuse pom-poms everywhere. Very cute. Possibly my favorite tree decoration. Lilies have been coming up, but nothing else but our daffodils is blooming yet, not even our tulips (there are some tulips open in town, in much sunnier spots, but our yard has a great deal of shade from tall trees around it).

Knitting for Niblings (they grow up so fast): The triplets I used to help bottle feed when they were born are turning eighteen this month and one of them is working this summer at a bar here in town, so has sought permission to crash at our place in the event he misses the late bus. They are basically adults!!!! Full-sized people!!! I mean he's been taller than me for a couple of years already, but still. Also this means I guess it's time to make them Adulthood Sweaters, but they're all the same age. (We made their older sister a nice sweater for her 18th birthday under the theory that she was now for the first time unlikely to outgrow it quickly.) (We did make her a sweater when she was a small child once but we never managed to make sweaters for the triplets because of this three-at-once issue. Not that they minded: it would be hard to find better-connected small children and they were always drowning in so many presents and party guests that they wouldn't notice our presence or absence.) So I'm thinking we will give them cards explaining that we will make them each the sweaters of their choosing now, but one after the other (Wax has tentatively agreed to this but she's probably forgotten by now because the discussion was a couple of weeks ago). It's summer anyway, so it's not like anybody will be in a rush for a sweater. And with any luck they will choose things that are easier to make than the long allover-cable mohair-and-merino cardigan Wax made for their sister. And I guess we need some kind of smaller symbolic present to go with the cards, but baking is out because their birthday party always features more sugary desserts than can be eaten. But also my shoulder still hurts (slightly, intermittently) and I still haven't called the doctor (or done the other stuff on that list from ten days ago. It was too scary and I froze up and didn't know where to start! Maybe I can start now, idk). So I couldn't start knitting right away anyway.

Fandom drama update, secondhand: I also forgot to mention that the two-week hiatus in Wax's fandom (911) ended and last week the new episode went up! And, as she and I expected, ( 911 spoilers... lol... ).

Reading Old Stuff: I made another attempt to read Le Morte d'Arthur and didn't get very far yet. The narrative voice is just incredibly dull! I did read the introductions to the Standard Ebooks edition with great interest, and obtained this list of sources which I hadn't heard before: "the great bulk of the work has been traced chapter by chapter to the "Merlin" of Robert de Boron and his successors (Bks. I-IV), the English metrical romance La Morte Arthur of the Thornton manuscript (Bk. V), the French romances of Tristan (Bks. VIII-X) and of Launcelot (Bks. VI, XI-XIX), and lastly to the English prose Morte Arthur of Harley MS. 2252 (Bks. XVIII, XX, XXI)." Having read Robert de Boron's "Merlin", the beginning of Le Morte d'Arthur is recognizable and also startlingly less interesting and fun to read. I looked up the English metrical and prose "Morte"s mentioned here and concluded that they didn't sound very fun either, although perhaps I will try them soon. Also started William Morris's translation of Grettis saga, and contrary to Morris's transports about characterization and poetry in the introduction, so far it is just wading through a lot of run-on sentences of geneology and short summaries of who attacked/burned and looted someone's house, just like the other Icelandic sagas I've attempted to read in the past. Amazing to think this in any way could represent a story designed to be told orally to a live audience who were supposed to not be falling asleep or getting up and leaving.

Gunta Stölzl (1897-1983) was a German textile artist who ran the Bauhaus's weaving workshop for many years and helped shape its distinctive look. Her designs and leadership helped modernize the weaving workshop and make it the most commercially successful part of the Bauhaus, but she was only hired after agitation and campaigning by the students, even though she had been running the weaving workshop in all but name for years and had been responsible for it bringing in more money than any other department. She still was never given benefits or a permanent contract.

Some of these images are photos of rugs, tapestries, and hangings; others are sketches and plans for them.

Icons are free to save, share, and modify. Credit is appreciated but not required.

Free to good homes. Modification is fine. Credit and comments appreciated, not required. Previous Hilma af Klint icons here.









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After I watched that documentary about the women designers of the Bauhaus and learned that they were treated very poorly by all the faculty and that Paul Klee and Wasily Kandinsky didn't want to teach fine art to women, believing that they were "incapable" of it (because fine art needs creative genius, unlike crafts ...the exact false dichotomy opposed by the Arts & Crafts movement in the Victorian era), I got annoyed every time I saw my icons of their art in my icon browsing dialogue. So finally I have replaced all of them with icons of abstract art by Hilma af Klint and Gunta Stölzl (more on her later).

Hilma af Klint (1862 – 1944) was a Swedish painter and mystic who created some of the earliest abstract paintings in Western art - a considerable body of her work predates the first abstract compositions by eg Kandinsky and Mondrian. She belonged to a group of women called "The Five" who developed a complex structure of mystic beliefs influenced by Theosophy and stressing the use of séance. Her paintings, which sometimes resemble diagrams, were a visual representation of complex spiritual ideas. (Paraphrased from Wikipedia)

Most of her better-known paintings are enormous: see exhibition photos at for example The Guggenheim, Stockholm's Moderna Museet, Artblart.

Free to good homes. Modification is fine. Credit and comments appreciated, not required. I posted Hilma af Klint icons a few years ago already: pt.1 and pt. 2.







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