Feliz, feliz, feliz?

     Yeah, I guess I'm happy these days. Why shouldn't I be happy? I'm off for two weeks, I've been to a number of Xmas parties and the three biggest ones are still ahead, and I'm halfway through a français book challenge that I set for myself. Catherine Leroux's 'Le mur mitoyen' for yer big fat information  (The party wall in English). Note to self; don't go to Goodreads and not expect spoilers! Augh! I just took a peek at the blurb for 'The party wall' and saw a spoiler. Anyway, siblings with interesting family connections are all over the shop in this collection of stories.

      The going is all right thus far, by the way. I haven't set a French challenge for myself in some time. Yeah, you'd think, 'she's working in an immersion school library; she has thousands of opportunities for français challenges.' Okay, okay... you would be right. I'm just a lazy sack of summat-or-other. I should start trying more challenges using school library books. Hey, the français might be easier in these books, right? But that won't be until 2020 when I get back to work. I'm still blown away by the fact that 2020 is just around the corner. As I like to say, a million years ago in the 80s, 2020 was this far off year that wasn't good for anything but sci-fi novels. Now it's just around the corner. 😱

        I always seem to need time to get into the shopping spirit. I have just a couple of things left to buy and then I'm golden for Xmas. Definitely First World Problem here. The weather's been warming up a little and my car's not yelling at me about low tire pressure anymore. I know I'm overdue for a visit to the dealership for a tune-up - maybe in the new year. On the Sims front, I am going to give Isla Paradiso a fair shake. That is one world I have never done anything with and it's definitely time to give it a go. I'm not fond of Bridgeport, I adore Riverview, and the rest are all right. I've been to the future world a number of times but never IP.

       That's about all for me. I will definitely be back in 2020. I'll find summat to blather about, I'm sure. To the two or three people who actually follow my blog (esp. those possibly Yorkshireian Mares): May you all have family, happiness, and plenty of food and good times at the tail end of 2019 and even more in 2020.

       Oh, and Sims.

BYE. 💗

Okay... where's Jason?

       Keeping you in the loop about my life and daily affairs. This week has been an interesting one. Power outage on Thursday at work and a real fire somewhere in the building at work today. The kids and teachers were all talking up the prevalence of Friday the 13th but that doesn't explain the shenanigans on Thursday. According to Manitoba Hydro, a lone crow was the blame for taking out over 3000 properties in St. James. My school was also out but luckily it did not last very long. Now we have tons of snow and the drive home was very slow.

       Meanwhile, in the lovely city of Winnipeg, a committee is looking at discontinuing garbage pick up for apartments and condos. Standalone houses will not be affected. Nice idea city council! Making us the fall guys... such a lovely idea! Of course this is unfair. I know that the two or three of you who are watching cannot really help me but I appreciate your company. I will be complaining to the city, of course. Jerks.

      My car's tyres are low on air and my car never fails to remind me of this fact. It was too cold for me to go out there are get it done. Then I went to the wrong place, got flustered and came home yesterday. Had the roads not been so horrible today I would have gone to the right place and got it done. It will have to be tomorrow. Nothing like procrastination, eh? Meanwhile, I'm going to make a cup of tea and think about supper.

Oh yeah... and some Sims in the winter.

BYE.

About madness

    Honestly, I really don't have very much to say. The only reason I'm posting is to reassure the two or three people who actually follow my blog that I have not died. My online presence is, as far as I know, not very strong or enduring. Apart from this ancient blog, my Twitter account (which collects more dust than my house), and my chance visits to the Sims Forums (which, as far as I know, looks like Sheffield in 'Threads' right now), I am barely anywhere. I am on Youtube but only to post inanities and the like.

     On my current literary horizon I am looking through 'Madness is better than defeat' by Ned Beauman. My first thought was that the title reeked summat Lovecraftian. In many of Lovecraft's short stories something unspeakably weird and tragic happens to the character and he has no other recourse than to go mad. The vibe of this book, meanwhile, is struggle. Struggle between two groups over a temple in the Honduran jungle. Two groups who might realize that their struggle is lunacy but they won't give up the fight.

      The title makes a fair bit of sense, in other words. Also, as the struggle goes on for years, people start running out of things in the jungle and have to make do with other things. At first, I found myself getting a 'Threads' vibe as well. No surprise since I am still freaking obsessed with that blasted movie. Not as much as I was back in 2013, thankfully. That vibe, also thankfully, did not last. I don't need my sleep interrupted by ICBMs, traffic wardens, and that miserable woman with the barbecued baby.

      Anyway, this wouldn't be a (in)decent post without some sims pictures, would it?

     










     
      I should make a couple more visits before the end of the year. 2020 was such a weird year to think about - in the 1990s it was still such a long way off. Now it's less than a month away. Gads.

BYE.

Awkwardness, among other things

     I have no idea where this awkward question came from but it hit me at work and it won't leave me alone. How does one introduce a transgendered person to a gathering? Especially if you did not know what their preference was? This might seem archaic on my part but I'm an old hag so it's kinda okay. I just realized you really wouldn't need to bother with titles or the like but a thousand years ago (back in my day) titles like Mr, Mrs, Ms. were a form of respect. There must be a transgendered variation on the theme by now. Maybe I'll look it up one day.

    Anyway, I decided to make up a post because November is slipping through my fingers. Christmas is closing in with swift steps. I know I need to make my list and I was thinking about a thick new comforter for my bed. And an Uno-hand's worth of gift cards. And $$$. Can't go wrong with a list like that. Of course, my family is going to say stuff like 'You need to put more on your list!' My dreams are few and lackluster, you see.

     Friday is almost here. Time for some pics.

BYE.

Not sowing discord, but...

      Like many people, I'm on a couple of Discord servers. Unlike many people, I'm rarely on them but I paid a visit today to see the two or three people I used to keep in contact with all the time. I'm on Twitter as well but I'm rarely on there either. I love being anti-social.

      I'm following one of the bigger Youtubers and thought about joining this person's Discord server. I've sat in on a couple of their livestreams but I like having conversations with people and that's nigh impossible on a livestream with thousands of people screaming memes and other stuff.

      I know, I know... joining this Youtuber's Discord will probably be no better for me. Not to worry; I'm not allowed to join the Discord. Please permit me a few grumbles, you two or three types who still follow my mindless rambling. I like my privacy and... let's be honest, why join a Discord if I won't be there very much? I don't like giving out my phone number to every bot, click, and spy site. Call me paranoid but there you go. The two servers I'm part of don't ask for a phone number. Why the freshly pressed inferno does this server demand one?

     I dropped this Youtuber's server like it burned me and am considering unsubscribing from both of this person's channels. Just being bitchy on my part, I suppose. I'm too lazy to bother unsubscribing, at any rate.

     Enough yammering. Time for some Sims pics.

BYE.

Geez

Has it really been a month since my last entry? How can Halloween and November be so close already?

Anyway, my online presence has not been stellar of late. Just call me an anti-social wretch if you will. At least my offline presence is okay. Went to a party last night and everything. Piazza de Nardi makes an incredible lemon cake - one of the best lemon cakes in creation. It's actually called a lemon mousse torte and it's amazing. If you're ever in Winnipeg, do check it out.

Is there really supposed to be snow in the forecast? I hope not. I don't think I have a lot of school spirit so I won't be dressing up for Halloween. It's one of those things I do once every few years and my year for it has not happened yet.

That's all I have for the moment, so be excellent to each other and just...

keep chill.

BYE.

On Saturday

   In my main game I'm playing a family of the absent-minded and I'm trying my best not to delete the whole freaking thing.

    I played one absent-minded sim in the past and they gave me a headache. Try three of them! Mum, Dad, and little Clarence all share that most frustrating of traits. Mother Nann and father Tory bonded over their easily-distracted natures and the game decided to curse me with a third one. I cannot wait until Clarence is old enough to move out and find a lady that does NOT have the trait. Enough with the 'um... debbil dorf?' already!

     As long as Clarence doesn't have a child with absent-mindedness. This has to be the worst trait in TS3. At least, to my gaming style. I like loading up my sims' queue with tasks and sending them on their way. An absent-minded sim just ruins my fun. I know that I could edit them in CAS but I like letting the game decide stuff like that and do the best I can.

    Meanwhile, I read a fascinating book called 'Third girl from the left' about three generations of women and the ways they enjoy their movies. The middle generation left home for Hollywood during the Blaxploitation craze and discovered the 'joys' of playing bit parts. I was reminded of Vic Mignogna's seminal (and freaking hilarious) 'Soldier A'. Nothing funny about this book, however.

     That's all for now.

BYE.

A Quiet Man (Finale)

Monks do not live forever, Davis acknowledged as he chatted with his dear friend Sister Janna. She had moved again, this time to the foot of a distant mountain, and rarely got within easy reach of a phone. When she was near a phone, she tried her best to keep in touch with him.

He listened as she spoke fondly of Sunset Valley and of their old friendship. His heart turned to lead as she warned him to seek more solid shelter. At this point, there seemed no reason for him to leave his beloved campground. He was close to the thunderous surf and the constant flow of the tide - surely the day-to-day of a house would keep him away from the ocean and his fishing rod.

Besides, he needed all the time he had to make connections with newcomers to the community. He hung up and curled up in his tent; fondly recalling his past encounters. That time when he'd first found that ancient circle of stones just beyond the valley, his battles with the zombies, and that time, last year, when he and Old Clara had tried their hand at ice dancing.

These memories, more precious than platinum, comforted him as he fell into a deep and delightful slumber. In the morning, his heart light, Davis emerged from his tent to be bathed in all the joys and splendours the world had to present him.

 And thus ends the story of Davis, the Quiet Man.


I hope the two of you who actually read my blog enjoyed this little story. Will I do another one? Plumbob alone knows.

I probably won't for a while as work is well underway. Thank you for your time and have a great day.

BYE.

Hey, you stoneage dinosaurs!

Happy 10th anniversary to the Mare's Nest! 🎉

I encountered this dynamic duo later than most but I go back time and again to see how they're bearing up against the latest drama-saga surrounding one of my favourite games.

I too have something of a milestone to celebrate. I actually hit 12,000 page views at some point. It pays to visit yer own blog a thousand times a day, doesn't it? 😜

Nah, I'm not such a pathetic sort that I visit my own blog a thousand times a day. I'd have a lot more than 12,000 page views if I did. I figure that I'll make it to 13,000 page views by 2029 or summat like that. Be in awe of my blog's speed, fools! It'll make glaciers look like hummingbirds by comparison!

I've been back at work for a bit over a week now. The kids have their first official day back this Friday. Yeah, I don't get that 'one day of school before the weekend' bit either.

That's all for now. Take care, the two who might actually be following me!

BYE.

A Quiet Man (07)

Turning seventy brought with it a number of challenges. Davis knew he definitely was not a young man anymore. He'd long since abandoned the denial that comes with being old but, honestly, there were times when being this old made him blue.

Over the years, the Quiet Man's notoriety had grown. From the time that busload of curious uni kids to that boisterous bevy of ladies down the road, Davis recalled fondly his many encounters. Sister Janna had relocated to another community and her replacement, younger and a little wilder, had her own ideas of contemplation.

Not all such encounters were welcome. Besides his partying neighbours and the nymph-like Sister Delphine, Davis also had problems with Jedd-the-Klutz. This local sleaze was known for everything from knocking over people's bins to threatening people with irradiated rubber chickens to flat-out breaking into people's houses. That night that Jedd had visited him, for instance.

Luckily he'd had the foresight to invest in a small motion sensor. It had not taken long for the cops to come and he'd salvaged a few more hours' sleep. These interruptions did not come often and, for the most part, Davis was still very content with his tent and few sticks of furniture his admirers had left him.

Still, there were those days when he felt a lot more than his age.

END.

A quick note

My neighbours had a party to celebrate the end of their renovations. They bought a garden gnome and decided to hold a gnome naming contest. My offering won some votes but it was not the winner. The winning name has a great history and is connected to our community so it all worked out.

So Labour Day approacheth. A welcome three-day weekend. The kids come back at the end of next week. Yeah, I'm back to work already. It had to happen and I was ready to go back. There will be more Quiet Man stories coming but I've decided to pause until September.

Normally I don't post as often as I've been doing but the Quiet Man kept me busy. Once the last two chapters are ready to go, I fear I have nothing else to write about. Maybe I'll give a family story a go but I am not sure.

That is all for the time being.

BYE.

A Quiet Man (06)

The heat had driven Davis away from his tent and into the gym for a bowl of cereal and some contemplation. While he had his midnight snack, he pondered his years in Sunset Valley. Four years had passed since he'd first arrived in Sunset Valley and he felt pretty good.

He'd been in contact with his monastery for the first three years but the monks had moved on and so had he. Besides Sister Janna and some of his neighbours, he was alone in the world. Sometimes his neighbours would call inviting him to meet this or that young lady. This usually led to arguments.

Life in a tent made him feel his age at times as well. While the sin of vanity was merely a whisper, sometimes that whisper muttered exceptionally loud.

He felt ashamed of himself for listening to the whisper and prayed fiercely that he might be strong enough to conquer his vanity. A week later, he went to the local bar - a quiet place in the early afternoon - for a glass of iced tea.

\
It was there that his eyes were opened anew. Here there was a woman seeking sustenance. There a man suffered from thirst. Davis's mind sharpened and he felt the old strength - the power that had once thrilled him in his earliest days - flow back. He sought one of these seekers and eagerly spoke of the way the world is coloured by one's cravings.

Later, under a star-clad sky, Davis thanked the universe for his renewed spirit and looked forward to the years to come.

END.


Note: Davis has passed on (for the two of you who actually read my blog) and I have pics and ideas enough for either one long chapter or two regular ones. I probably won't post anything else about Davis or otherwise until September.

I am a sad and pathetic individual on a hiding to nothing

First off, I do not have a Reddit or a Simblr/Tumblr so that puts me well out of the running for relevant social media shenanigans.

Also, my choice to post this on my blog guarantees that Mini Ladd will never hear of this let alone see it. So... yeah. Hiding to nada.

However, I've been watching his meme stream vids and these videos gave me an idea. Again, I know darn well that this post will never reach the man's attention but... yeah. It was something different that came to mind.


Also, these little dudes pop up randomly and I love their weirdness.

These two posing with this Tragic Clown snowman was too perfect an image to pass up.

I'm going back to work in a couple of weeks. I think perhaps it's time. I need something to focus on that isn't Youtube.


BYE.

A Quiet Man (05)

Glorious spring stole across Sunset Valley before long, and Davis was dreaming of his totem once again. It lead him down innumerable dream-paths and showed him secrets he'd only heard whispers of. By day, he kept busy with a nearby apiary and with the constant struggle of putting bins to rights.

By now, Davis had spent two years in Sunset Valley; and all this time, he'd never felt those vague stirrings before. You know; those stirrings that tempt the wandering monk away from his solitude and toward a stranger's arms. One evening, while touring the annual spring festival, the stirrings hit.

Her name was Mallory. Her father was on the town council and she herself taught kindergarten. What was she doing running a kissing booth? Davis ventured a few encouraging words and heard a few in turn. She was beautiful and hard-working. What harm would it bring to go on a date and live like a real person for once?

Davis found himself in a quandary. He retreated after a few more polite words and sought solace in the library. Would even one date distract him? Was a woman's touch enough to drive his totem away? He'd heard grim stories of other monks going mad after refusing the deeper secrets because they wished another's touch. He spent much of the night meditating and contemplating in the library.

Before dawn broke, he went for a long swim. He knew Mallory could do much better than him. Let another one plumb her secrets. He had his own secrets to discover. He would find her and thank her for their chat but that was as far as it could go. He was a monk and that's all there was to it.

END.

A Quiet Man (04)

It happened one winter evening that Davis encountered the deer. He'd been deep in contemplation over his silent fire when the deer trotted past. It was only once he'd opened his eyes did she dart off into the night.

 Sister Janna had been quiet for several months but now she summoned him to meet her at a nearby diner where he was known to eat the occasional bowl of soup. She spoke of the deer and promised to reveal the meaning behind the encounter. Honoured and pleased that he would finally meet with her in person, Davis set to work around the community.

It wasn't much but small acts like putting bins to rights would make his neighbours happy. He'd befriended several of his neighbours while tending to the community he was now a part of. It was his friend from the beach who'd mentioned the little diner. That afternoon, he went to the diner to find that Sister Janna had left him a note.

Sadly, she'd been called away to tend to her own little flock and had not been able to stay long at the diner. However, the note she left him spoke of wellsprings of hope and overflowing pools of joy. She foretold that he would soon encounter an overflowing pool and it would bode well for the future.

Davis, however, was quite sure that this was not what Sister Janna had foretold in her note.

END.

Lots of Entries, eh?

Just a quick note before I go into the latest Quiet Man chapter. My solo dude Davis has just become an elder. In other words, there are probably a few more chapters to go before he passes on. I get sidetracked by the gorgeous views and end up taking pictures of the scenery more than anything else.

I got into playing with single sims after getting bored of playing an ongoing family. I might play a couple after Davis passes on but we'll see.

Anyway, all is well with me. A washer and dryer I ordered have come in and the big delivery is this Wednesday. Neko's tummy has been giving us grief thanks to hairballs but I think the worst of it is over.

I'm still reading like a demon if you wanted to know. And here we are in August. Where the heck did July go? It could be a little cooler but as long as my AC holds out I'll be fine. Keep cool, the two of you who follow me.

BYE.

A Quiet Man (03)

Winters were rumoured to be mild in Sunset Valley, but this year brought on an arctic chill that Davis' tent would never keep out. He'd seen a number of the locals frolicking in the snow and had an insight. That afternoon he got to work and had a snug new home ready to go.

Since winter's arrival Davis had stopped dreaming of his spirit animal. Then the phone call had come.

She called herself Sister Janna. To his shock, she knew all things about him and reassured him that his spirit animal would return with the summer. She claimed to live in the local catacombs but warned him to leave her to her own meditations and to never visit her in the graveyard. Promising he would obey, Davis disconnected with a heart as light as a snowflake.

In the early winter days, he continued to fish and scavenge. In the harsher months, he took shelter at the local gym for an occasional hot meal and shower.

Snug and secure in his snowy shelter, Davis would meditate and pray; knowing that winter was inevitably followed by spring and summer. His dreams would gleam with the presence of his spirit animal again one day.


END.

Quiet Man (02)

Late one night, while Davis slept, the denizens of the haunted campground rose from the pond and  shambled about his tent. They moaned wearily, their craving for flesh eternally unsatisfied. Their angry energy woke him from a sound sleep. He lay still and waited for morning, as their combined rage and horror was too great at this hour.

He rose with the sun and lit some incense. Chanting under his breath, he willed the unsettled forces that had woken the zombies to lie still and serene. Before long, he felt peace return to the campsite and went scavenging for his breakfast.

While walking along the shore he encountered one of the locals. His conversation led him to an ancient place of peace and calm. Davis spent much of the day climbing into the hills to where the ancient place waited.

Delighted, Davis prayed at the shrine for the rest of the day before getting in a shower at the gym. Thereafter, he waved at his new friend whenever he saw him and got into long conversations about philosophy and belief. After two weeks in Sunset Valley, Davis now had a friend.

END.

A Quiet Man (01)

Davis arrived in Sunset Valley with only his dreams and his pup tent. He'd  come from a distant monastery after months of meditation and prayer. His mentor and his fellow monks had given him the tent and a pair of sneakers as farewell gifts. With only a few simoleons to his name he set up in a haunted campground and cooked his first meal in his new home.

His first night was peaceful. He dreamed of his spirit animal - the creature who had summoned him to Sunset Valley.

Its reason for summoning him remained unknown but he was determined to unravel this and many other secrets.

The next day he rose early and went scavenging along the beach for fallen plantains. With bounty in hand he sat down to cook breakfast. Then he set about making the little campground more agreeable. Sadly, its last occupants had failed to show similar due diligence.

As he worked, Davis murmured softly to himself and wondered if his search for his spirit animal would be successful. His fellow monks were certain he'd only last a few months in the Gomorrah that was Sunset Valley. Davis felt strong and content - he was certain that he would not fail himself.

END.