I got nothin' but Super Lady

I have nothing to say -- how boring is that. I am just trying to keep the ball rolling, especially since I don't intend to blog during Holy Week. That should be an easy resolution for me -- just about my speed.

The only slightly amusing thing I can tell you is that Heulwen, who is now three, has a personal favourite superhero she likes to be named Super Lady. I think that's kind of a scream. I have to stifle my smirks, though, because to her, Super Lady is serious stuff. Today Super Lady and Ella (alter ego name unknown at this point) were in one of their 'lava' episodes -- they have uncommon bad luck with lava, it seems -- and the dialogue went something like this:

Ella: Oh no! Here comes the lava! Run!

SL: Yeah! Here it comes! Let's get up higher!

Ella: It's coming higher now!

SL: Yeah! And I have to pee!

Now that's an issue they never dealt with in Dante's Peak: what if you are facing a pyroclastic flow and you have to pee? Methinks one just goes. Run from lava now, change trousers later.

A footnote: when I was cracking this gem of an anecdote to my husband, I referred to it as "chiroplastic flow"! I thought: that's not right, because I have no idea how I would spell that. He didn't seem to notice, though. Whew.

swiffer and gogol -- part II

After reading "The Overcoat", I'm mad at Gogol now too.

Consolation: I bought (with my allowance -- the greatest idea if you do your household budget -- let the grownups in the household have a monthly allowance -- it takes the sting out of paying all those boring grownup bills) Dostoyevsky's The Idiot. It's the new edition translated by the dream team of Volokhonsky and Pevear, about whom I've effused in a past post. I actually heard them (V and P) speaking on an Ideas show (CBC radio at 9 on weekdays -- really good) that was all about translation. They were asked what the hardest type of thing is to translate and Richard Pevear said peasant-type dialogue is hard -- which makes sense, and Larissa V said that Russian is full of these crazy (my word not hers) endearments like "Little Dove" and even "Little Falcon". That one kills me, little falcon. Also "little father" and "little mother" for people who -- er-- aren't parents. I noticed that Mitya in Brothers Karamazov was called "little father" (presumably "batushka") a lot, when he was, I understand, neither little nor a father. Discuss. Just kidding. Please don't discuss it.

Anyway, The Idiot is wonderful, and it has a stylish cover to boot -- all kind of cool and edgy. If I weren't a technopeasant I would show it to you, but you'll just have to trust me, or go find it yourself. The book is all about this totally virtuous young man who also happens to be a prince, but to him this seems to be no more interesting or important than having green eyes or a cowlick. I'm only two chapters in and I already just love this character. If you read BK and feel bereft of Alyosha after you're finished, Prince Myshkin is just the ticket. Ah, virtuous men. But I'll stop there.

I'm Back!

. . .if anyone still cares. I have to work right now (icons and more icons) but I will return later to put up something amusing/interesting/edifying (I almost typed "deifying" -- that would have been a pretty tall order!)

Okay, see you soon, orthobloggers.