I mentioned in one of the threads that I'd attended a charity dinner where JK was speaking and had a theory that I wound up defending in a Tumblr challenge a few years back.
My theory is that Molly Weasley had her own Deathly Hallows in the final battle.
While viewed as a children’s story, or a physical quest, there was much more to the Deathly Hallows than that, the mastery of death could lie not just in objects, but in the right mix of people. The theory, hotly debated amongst vigilant believers, was in current contest as those three Hallows were united as they dueled against Bellatrix Lestrange.
There was Luna, the Resurrection Stone, the girl who fed thestrals, missed a mother and danced in and out of everyone else’s version of reality. The girl whose haunting alternate ways so often helped others get back to themselves when feeling lost or alone asking nothing in return, helping them resurrect who they were when they vulnerable.
There was Hermione, the Invisibility Cloak that had shielded others so many times, often invisible and unthanked in her constant support of everyone. The cloak’s true gift lay in the ability to shield others, not just a single wearer and never tired out. For Hermione had never left Harry’s side, had helped Hagrid for ages on his case for Buckbeak, had knit hat after hat for house elf rights, had been the constant plan maker to hide them from trouble. The girl who was tortured to shield others.
There was Ginny, the Elder Wand. The girl who stood toe to toe with Voldemort in a very private battle for months on end and ensured the only causality would be herself. If it is assumed the castle wasn’t doused with Flelix Feliciats, then Ginny was actively thwarting the giant, murderous creature she kept releasing while blacked out from killing. Chamber opening, rebellion leading, unmastered Ginny who showed Tom Riddle having a thing was not the same as being able to use it.
Their mistress was one Molly Weasley, who could selflessly possess the attributes. A daughter by blood, a daughter by heart from across the hill, a daughter to be. When faced with a depraved killer who had felled notable duelists, Molly could not be beat. The mother in her, the fresh grief she had might have been enough, but her Hallows ensured Bellatrix would never harm again.
Dailymail ran an article on cats' personality mirroring their owner's and it led to a link to a personality quiz for my kitty. In a nutshell there are five feline traits: Skittishness, Outgoing, Dominance, Friendliness and Spontaneity. Her results come across as mostly accurate, but I'm also the person who filled out the survey so it would be very strange if they didn't. She's typical on most, a high outlier on Outgoing and Skittishness and low on Spontaneity. They mention indoor cats tend to rank Friendlier, but taking a closer look it also impacts the Spontaneity score. She's lower than I would have guessed from my survey responses, so there's a weighted variable factor in play of the indoor/outdoor hours per day, FYI.
Figured I'd share the links if anyone is interested, you get a report emailed to you that explains the characteristics and has a graph showing where they fall compared to other cats!
I'm awake because of the cat and her made up games, this is first time she's had stairs and the novelty of sprinting them in her made up obstacle courses hasn't worn off. Her speed racer trilling is loud, but I appreciate that she cheers herself on. I don't know if that's one of the mirrored behaviors discussed in the article and project, because I too actively encourage myself and did so while cleaning out the fridge (whole other bucket of self examination there).
She's a sweet cat, for the most part just wants to be wherever I am and opens door handles to get her way, bathroom included. She brings me toys to play with her, brings me her favorite bottle caps when I have a migraine and puts them in the bed to cheer me up.
I'm a bit nervous about our future, my ex is really wanting her to come live with him or fly her out for a visit. I've got to do more research on it, he paid all of the adoption and vet fees, but also let me bring her when I moved. He can get very stubborn and currently has the upper hand financially, but I don't think it's good for her anxiety to start flying her about.
If you take the survey let me know how your kitty ranks and how accurate you think it is!
I'm overwhelmed, pregnancy stressed, can't quite process twins just yet. So I stress cooked comfort food in the middle of the night and will probably eat the rest in the morning. I forgot to take a photo.
1 tsp butter or cooking spray
6 eggs (one in reserve)
1 tbsp milk
1/4 C salsa (quemada, verde, rojo - personal choice)*
3 C tortilla chips, .5 c used in reserve
1/4 C sharp shredded cheddar or cojita blanca
Dash of cumin
Black pepper to taste
Optional: chopped onion and peppers, cooked to taste between steps 2 and 3
1) Heat pan at low-medium and melt butter. Once hot, half crush 2.5 cups tortilla chips in your hand and add to pan.
2) Once fragrant and crispy, about 2 min, add salsa and cover, let simmer for 5 minutes.
3). While salsa and tortilla chips are simmering beat 5 eggs with 1 tbsp milk and a dash of cumin, black pepper to taste and add to pan.
4) Add eggs to pan and mix with contents, cover to simmer for approximately 8 minutes, stirring occasionally.
5) Once the egg mixture begins to thicken and appears half cooked add cheese, switch heat to simmer, stir and recover for 10 to 15 minutes.
6) Taste and adjust seasoning. Add remaining egg, black pepper and increase heat to medium. When white of freshly cracked egg is begging to look cooked add remaining 1/2 tortilla chips and stir. Additional salsa if eggs look dry.
6) Serve immediately, paired with fresh fruit, beans, salsa, guacamole, extra cheese and tortilla options.
*Quemada is the dark brown salsa (also called burnt, roasted), it is my go to. Verde is green salsa, mild and cilantro based. Rojo is just whatever your preferred red salsa and spice level is, there’s a specific breakfast salsa where I’m at, but that’s probably not common.
Went to a writer's group meeting yesterday. First time I've gone to this group's meetings. Different from other groups I've participated in - this one was a series of prompts and exercises. I was in a bit of a mood going in - Father's Day weekend for a recent widow is no laugh matter; several social/annoying things happened at Shabbat service in the morning, and one of our service leaders made a "somebody really should" statement of the writing variety and once I hear someone say "someone really should" I usually can't unsee the idea until I've had a try at it. We did a word association map for one exercise, then wrote something based on part or all of the word map. I picked a section of the map that had some references to knives and fancy dress balls to write from. I'm pretty proud of what I wrote in 15 minutes but it's pretty clear that I was in a "mood."
The night of the long knives came and went as a plague on the first born of the land. Men perfectly healthy went to bed only to be jerked from sleep with knives against their throats. Here were the leaders of men, thrust against walls at the point of a stiletto, there the young men only following their orders, and over there again the family men who didn't exactly plan to pursue this path but perfectly content where they'd found themselves. At the end of a blade, deep in the depression years, taking their payslips home at the end of the week feeling they'd done a good job, and a little extra for mother in the kitchen. The years of children, church, and kitchen. The good women. Most of them not owning a fancy pair of shoes or a party dress, for who had time? The children needed their mothers at home, the men away at work.
The children of course, were not silent. Soldiers burst into their homes, dragged their fathers out of bed. Mothers clutching their husbands, children wailing for their papas. The ones who understood left quietly, reassuring the children on their way out - it's a special exercise, I couldn't know about it beforehand, otherwise I would have told you. Hush child, I'll be home in a few days. They knew they'd be lucky to make it to the end of the block, of course, but let the children hope for a little bit longer, before all hope fell away and their eyes opened to the hatred their own fathers had taken part in.
Others didn't understand, resisted and fought against the soldiers who came into their homes. They'd believed in the banners and flags, they'd stood and cheered, they'd enjoyed seeing fear cross the faces of those who understood. Now they themselves fought back in fear. Fear of losing their lives for who could possibly know what comes next? Wagner wrote of Valhalla, their wives faithfully attended church; surely there was something to greet them when the heart stopped quivering, trying to pump blood flowing onto floors, and truck beds, and sidewalks.