This post's theme word is ruck, "a crease or wrinkle." The Louvre's absence of rucks would come in handy during a particularly cold game of I-spy-with-my-little-eye in December... hint: starts with 'L', located by a physicist, included in the title of this post. You have 60 minutes to guess while fending off frostbite!
Friday, September 12, 2014
Lattice
Lattices and lines, lattices and lines. It's all about the intersecting planes.
This post's theme word is ruck, "a crease or wrinkle." The Louvre's absence of rucks would come in handy during a particularly cold game of I-spy-with-my-little-eye in December... hint: starts with 'L', located by a physicist, included in the title of this post. You have 60 minutes to guess while fending off frostbite!
This post's theme word is ruck, "a crease or wrinkle." The Louvre's absence of rucks would come in handy during a particularly cold game of I-spy-with-my-little-eye in December... hint: starts with 'L', located by a physicist, included in the title of this post. You have 60 minutes to guess while fending off frostbite!
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Parisian rain
The weather has been beautiful since I moved into my new apartment, but every streak will end, so here we are:
It remains not unpleasant. (Litotes! If you doubt my sincerity or enjoyment, look out again at the Parisiant rooftops and the moulin in the distance! I'm one or two scenes away from my meet-cute with the romantic hero.)
Even when rainy, the many giant windows and my top-floor status mean that my apartment is luminous and delightful. I can look out on the umbrella-huddled tourist masses below, inevitably cowering over a map because they are lost in these tiny streets on their way to Montmartre's Sacre-Coeur basilica, and cackle my evil (Ursula-sea-witch) cackle, and be happy.
This post's theme word is micawber, "an eternal optimist." There are many stairs and raindrops, but in Paris one must remain a micawber about the weather and pedestrian accessibility.
It remains not unpleasant. (Litotes! If you doubt my sincerity or enjoyment, look out again at the Parisiant rooftops and the moulin in the distance! I'm one or two scenes away from my meet-cute with the romantic hero.)
Even when rainy, the many giant windows and my top-floor status mean that my apartment is luminous and delightful. I can look out on the umbrella-huddled tourist masses below, inevitably cowering over a map because they are lost in these tiny streets on their way to Montmartre's Sacre-Coeur basilica, and cackle my evil (Ursula-sea-witch) cackle, and be happy.
This post's theme word is micawber, "an eternal optimist." There are many stairs and raindrops, but in Paris one must remain a micawber about the weather and pedestrian accessibility.
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