Friday, January 13, 2012

Lessons in Old Icelandic

In my absence from actual blogging, I thought it might be fun to offer some Old Icelandic words from my fabulous Concise Dictionary of Old Icelandic by Geir T. Zoega.

Today's word is Bjórreifr: cheerful from beer drinking

I think this proves once and for all that Old Norse/Old Icelandic are the BEST languages in the world.

Bjórreifr in a (modern Icelandic) sentence:
Ég er bjórreifr.* I am cheerful from beer drinking. 

Please, if you are a drinker of beer (I am not so I must live vicariously through you), be bjórreifr.

Until next time!

*Ek is the old Icelandic form of the modern Icelandic Ég, I. I have no idea what the old Icelandic conjugations of að vera -- to be-- are. Maybe em, for I am. But don't rely on that. My best guess for this sentence in old Icelandic is: Ek em bjórreifr.

Friday, January 06, 2012

The Awesome That Is My Future

FABULOUS news, blogfriends! If you had not already heard on twitter, el husband and I are MOVING!

Benefits of this move include, but are not limited to:

  • Future dog ownership.
  • Future cat ownership.
  • A backyard of significant acreage (for the dog and the cat, obvs -- except maybe not the cat because it will likely get eaten by coyotes).
  • Highland Cattle living down the road a piece.
  • A three-season back porch
  • Conveniently located to immediate and extended family!
  • Also: shopping, cheaper movie theaters, more expensive movie theaters, peace and quiet, TONS OF STARS AT NIGHT, and the opportunity to get completely lost in the woods at will.
On the downside, I am neck-deep in packing up my entire Connecticut life and relocating it to my new abode in upstate New York. And. Well. Sorry, blogging is going to be sporadic until I'm resettled. Hang in there with me, blogfriends! I hope to be back to you full time by February 1st. (If I can't get internet set up before then, SAVE YOURSELVES! There is no hope left for me!)

See you on the flip!

Monday, January 02, 2012

No Kiss Blogfest, Year Three

It is the Third Annual No-Kiss Blogfest today, hosted again by the fabulous Ms. Mallis. Be sure to check out all the other participants for a no-kiss festival of fun.

My unkiss comes from my Pirithous book (I really have to come up with a title for this thing) wherein Pirithous, son of Zeus, is finally released from the Underworld and the chair of forgetfulness 3000 years later, and finds himself in upstate New York on a mission for the goddess Persephone. After acquiring English (by the grace of Hermes), he makes it his business to get to know Thalia -- the reckless woman who has so foolishly offered him a couch to sleep on.
Thalia seemed completely herself again, pulling him by the hand through another door and down a staircase that led to some kind of storage room beneath the main rooms above. He studied the wood beams of the ceiling, admiring the craftsmanship, but Thalia tugged at his hand again and he followed her into a smaller chamber, ducking his head to pass through the doorway.

“What would you like? Red or white?”

Rows of glass bottles lay on their sides within a shelf purpose-built into the wall. He freed one, the dark liquid sloshing gently inside. A strange way to keep wine, in such small vessels. But it seemed as though they did not drink it by the krater, what with that other foul-sweet substance she’d offered him earlier. Coke? His mouth still felt coated by it. Why would she drink that foaming liquid when she had wine in this quantity?

“Red it is, then.” She took the bottle from his hand, then wrinkled her nose. “But not this one. My brother will kill me. Um.”

She slipped in front of him, rising to her toes and reaching up to put the bottle back. He inhaled the scent of her hair, felt the warmth of her body as it brushed against his. He gripped the shelving to keep from grabbing her, but his head dropped and he couldn’t quite stop himself from nuzzling the place behind her ear.

Her breathing hitched, and she froze, her fingers wrapped around a bottle above her head. He kissed her beneath the ear and she made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a squeak. He grinned and tasted her skin again, creamy with just a hint of salt from a long summer day.

That time, the noise she made was closer to a moan. And it was formed around his name. His body hardened, responding as much to the call as it did to her warmth, and the soft skin of her neck.

Thalia ducked under his arm, dragging the bottle with her. “One bottle of red wine, and I think we’d better find you something to eat that you like more than pizza.”

“I can think of something I’d like very much,” he murmured, watching her dance back to the door.

She flushed. “Yes, well, I don’t think that would be very filling for either one of us.”

“No?” He didn’t dare take his hand off the shelf or straighten. If he moved at all, he’d take her against the wall and he didn’t think her father would appreciate it when he found out.

Then again, if her father left her alone in the woods, with no guards and no protection, perhaps she had already been used by someone else, and he wouldn’t know the difference if Pirithous made himself at home. It was, perhaps, too tempting a thought, because it did nothing to ease the rush of his blood. Filling, indeed.

“Nope,” and now that she was in the doorway, beyond the reach of his arm, she grinned, her gaze traveling over him in a way that made his whole body burn. “Besides, I don’t sleep with men I pick up off the side of the road on the first date.”
This is my first attempt at writing just a plain old ordinary(ish) romance, and honestly, I don't know what I'm doing. Pirithous doesn't really cooperate for no-kisses, either, being an all-in kind of guy. 

Have a fabulous No-kiss day!