White Bread, Brown Bread
Jun. 24th, 2002 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
incandescensI am attempting to work on Lion and the Unicorn. I need more resolve.
Work was rather good today. We chattered a lot -- but work did get done, so no problem there.
The little fic seems to be generally okay. Excellent. Though I believe I'll stick to plot or vignettes in the future.
There are roses growing in some of the gardens which I walk past on my way to and from work. I'm usually too distracted (that is, undercaffeinated and not yet awake) to bother sniffing them in the morning, but I occasionally enjoy their scent on the way home, leaning over a garden wall and taking the stem between my fingers, tilting it as one might tilt a face to yours (remember that simile, might be useful) . . .
"What a lovely thing a rose is! [. . .] There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as in religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its colour are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers."
Sherlock Holmes, _The Naval Treaty_, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Work was rather good today. We chattered a lot -- but work did get done, so no problem there.
The little fic seems to be generally okay. Excellent. Though I believe I'll stick to plot or vignettes in the future.
There are roses growing in some of the gardens which I walk past on my way to and from work. I'm usually too distracted (that is, undercaffeinated and not yet awake) to bother sniffing them in the morning, but I occasionally enjoy their scent on the way home, leaning over a garden wall and taking the stem between my fingers, tilting it as one might tilt a face to yours (remember that simile, might be useful) . . .
"What a lovely thing a rose is! [. . .] There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as in religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its colour are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers."
Sherlock Holmes, _The Naval Treaty_, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
