Publisher and photographer know exactly what they’re doing here, with this pose—the symbolic inverse of what I’m seeing from this Autism Mom, as shown on Love on the Spectrum and paratexts. (Memoir comes out next year.)

I made a decent version of these things today. The “secret” (not secret, it’s on the ingredients list) is date syrup.

I believe the book has two different titles, depending on region? Makes me wonder if there are other, regional specific edits, tbh.

Whenever I show anyone my dog they say “I don’t know which end is which.” So I’m telling you, this is the cute fluffy tail.

Made a delicious cake. Errors were made. It was always destined to look like this anyway, in the end, when all is said and done.

Hairy Maclary is not from Donaldson’s Dairy. He doesn’t have a home as he was abandoned in the early 1970s. Where we see him cosy inside a house, he is fantasising about being loved. In reality he was picked up by the council dog control unit and tested positive for hydatids, so.

Our dog responds to one TV show, and one TV show only. It is this one. We watch it together on his birthday, if anyone remembers it's his birthday. He makes little barky sounds when the birds dance and do mating calls. (He hates birds irl. Chases them off the grass.)

Today’s crap food photography… I’ve never made scones before in my life. I don’t think I’ll be rushing to make them again. The process is disgusting. These are the lemonade recipe. Anyway they taste fine. Done in air fryer.

If you look closely you’ll see two kangaroos standing on their hind legs and pushing each other.

In the kitchen, my dog staring at this, his eyes saying, “Come on, man!”

Ah, yes. The 1980s. Lucky for me neither of my parents smoked, though almost all extended relatives did. The best thing my father did for our health was collect butts as a kid, roll them up, try to smoke them, then promptly vom. He'd have become a lifelong smoker otherwise, for sure.

This is from a memoir by former DCC sisters, whose Cheerleading era overlapped with Kelli and Judy's, early 1980s. This "not here for the right reasons" reality TV accusation is not recent, despite the newness of social media and all the marketing opportunities that come with it.

How many people receive this training re eye-contact & trustworthiness? (from a memoir) My brothers got similar advice from our father about the firmness of handshakes. A firm handshake equals trustworthiness, apparently. By this measure, no wonder people get fleeced (by non-blinking sociopaths).

Anyway. Today I’m eating cupcakes. Asexual pride cupcakes. Because I have a wonderful best friend who is ace and guess how we found each other! By knowing and using our identity labels.

No postage, no return address.

There are 4 queer book bundles, with no particular reason for the grouping--grab bags, basically. 🌈 📚

Pride book bundle time! There's some #asexual characterisation in there too (mine--bottom left). itch.io/b/3678/pride...

This whole “we’re not allowed to talk about it” fake suppression rubbish reminds me very much of the anti-trans movement. Wonder if you’ve noticed that too? Also the concern trolling over folk seeking medical care for something “in the head” which can be fixed by an attitude adjustment.

There’s a hole in the bikkie bag and someone’s been feeding their face (not me)

Won the capsicum lottery! Ordered Odd Bunch capsicums and got SEVEN perfect yellow ones!

I’m aware of how Kiwis and Aussies come across to the rest of the English speaking world. This is a scene from an English group tour, by wonderful American-Canadian author Carol Shields. Set in 1978 and little has changed.

Good point, we do need a word for this (in the same register) and prude is the obvious choice. But like you, I'm not entirely sure prude is a genuine analogue. There've been efforts to reclaim slut, and aces would be starting from scratch with that. Also, I just happened across this in my reading:

I reckon this one

me too. who gets the contract to write this stuff.

Yes. I’ve never seen HIM jump like that. It’s more of a surprise-Wilson situation.

This dog. Every day. If you’d like your very existence appreciated, go walking past some doggos.

This story about young Katherine Mansfield fascinates me. The absolute confidence it took to pull this off, and in an era where teachers were revered. How many of us could have done this at school?

On the topic of Katherine Mansfield and possible neurodivergence: