Apropos of something

Currently reading/enjoying Peter David's Sir Apropos of Nothing. Nice and neat. Brisk.

Parents off to Greece/Crete tomorrow. Hope the trip goes well for them.

Sister back home for a couple of days, having spent last couple of months in Australia.

I love my family. ;)

Very tired. I suspect it's due to a very intense/busy/high-adrenaline time last weekend, which has resulted in me not getting the regular weekend recharge. (Which involves sleeping in, yes, so sue me.)

Chibi-Sanzou is staring at me. I feel guilty. I have a Yami no Matsuei fic to continue, and I have several small Saiyuki vignettes to write.

I wish I could get a better idea of Doku from Saiyuki. Part of my idea is formed by other fics I've read, which is all well and good, but I need a bit more concept of my own to go in there. Hm.

I believe that I will quote Stephen Marley today.

---

The perfect madness does not rage. The complete madness does not shout, or howl, or bawl its despair. The perfect madness is restrained.

The perfect madness is devoid of malice. It takes no pleasure in pain. It does not seek revenge. The perfect madness means you no harm.

The perfect madness understands you. It knows everything about you. Above all, it knows what you keep hidden.

It slips in everywhere, through locked doors, shuttered windows, closed eyes. It has slipped in here - where the drying sheets flap in the narrow courtyard and the thick aroma of boiling vegetables wafts from the glazed earthenware bulge of the cooking pot. The housekeeper with her brawny arms is arranging the hanging sheets and singing a song of young love in the forest as her ageing feet tap to the rhythm of an ancient dance.

The perfect madness is not rash or importunate. It is patient. It works slowly. The housekeeper will sing her sentimental songs and stomp her clumsy feet for some time yet.

But in a little while she will learn to listen to the perfect deafness, and her feet will dance to the perfect silence.

There - she has looked up. She has begun to listen.

(_Spirit Mirror_, Stephen Marley)

if spoken with respect and affection

Must concentrate. Must write. Must work.

Must zone out. Wait, that has to be an interpolation by a later author.

Parents safely in Athens, so all well on that end.

Must do shopping tomorrow - vegetables, fruit, some sauces for stirfries, and maybe (who am I kidding) a slice of cake or two. Oh, and perhaps just a little box of sushi for supper.

I like Friday evenings -- one has the whole weekend to look forward to.

Susannah will be heading off at ten o'clock tomorrow morning: apparently there is a man with a van coming to assist her in this project. I intend to be asleep. Well, rather, I intend to do my damnedest to be asleep. Saturday mornings are for lying in and sleeping late, in my lexicon -- or at least, they are during the normal working week, given that I'll have been working Monday to Friday. So I've lent her my alarm clock (she needed one) since I am unlikely to need it myself. So charitable I am. I astonish myself.

Must look for more Top Ten stuff tomorrow. Will I be insane enough to buy the hardback second collection? We shall see.