franklanguage | Reading

alierak posting in

DW is seeing some issues due to today's Amazon outage. For right now it looks like the site is loading, but it may be slow. Some of our processes like notifications and journal search don't appear to be running and can't be started due to rate limiting or capacity issues. DW could go down later if Amazon isn't able to improve things soon, but our services should return to normal when Amazon has cleared up the outage.

fred_mouse

My personal seasonal shift has happened. It was raining earlier, and is overcast, and I'm feeling whingey about being cold. Apparently it is 20°C, a temperature I have considered to be perfectly acceptable through the cooler seasons.

This means that I'd better remember a jumper or other warm clothing tomorrow. Last week I was being lazy and was perfectly fine in 3/4 sleeve work t-shirts; I have a blanket in the office that solves most of the slight being cool that come from being in the bottom floor where the ground is one floor up to the north.

fred_mouse

In slightly surreal events, artisanat got an email from livejournal to tell them that their account is 19 years old. I haven't had a livejournal account since I committed fully to dreamwidth and decided I didn't care for crossposting, but I guess it would be heading up to 20 years old.

Which, huh.

pilottttt

Конечно, за последние дни вы уже много раз натыкались в соцсетях на эту фотографию 18-летней уличной певицы Дианы Логиновой (она же – Наоко), сделанную за несколько секунд до того, как на её руках застегнулись наручники. Внесу и я свои пять копеек в эту историю.

Итак, свершилось. Теперь в России можно оказаться в тюрьме буквально за то, что пел не те песни (и это – не преувеличение). При этом меня уже который день не покидает ощущение, что моё «Радио Киово» кто-то воспринял как руководство к действию. Очень уж похоже. Ну и – крайне неприятно, скажу я вам, в этой ситуации оказаться пророком.

Ну а Диане хочется выразить поддержку и уважение – уже хотя бы за то, что в России всё ещё находятся люди, способные на столь смелые поступки.

Current Location: Ташкент, Узбекистан

sabotabby

Oh right, this.

Go listen to Wizards & Spaceships' "WITCHES!" Which witch is the best witch? Which witch tropes are wired and which are inspired. Plus a blatant ripoff of Margaret Killjoy's excellent podcasts about the witch trials.

Witches, bitches!

eller

If there is one color that defines the North German autumn, that would be this one.

Living-Heather-kl

Okay, technically, heather season is already over, but... It's definitely not a coincidence that I decided to produce this particular shade of granulating purple.

In case you were wondering: yes, the Lüneburg Heath has some heather. XD That's a bit of an understatement, actually: heather bloom is such a spectacular view that people track it online so you can find the best spots for heather-viewing... (Oh, and they have pretty pictures, too.) Ah, unique North German hobbies. XD

By the way, the weather models predict the year's first frost for this weekend. Kale, YAY! (The kale plants need frost before they can be harvested and eaten.) I'm so looking forward to kale season! :)

fred_mouse

Last weekend I got Eldest's quilt to the point that there is a 6x6 block section, which is now hanging on the wall. There are four more rows, being 24 blocks, that are to be made -- I had four of those done, so 20 to make. With the goal* of getting the top assembled by the end of the year I worked out that if I got two blocks done a week, by picking the fabric through the week and sewing one per Saturday/Sunday, that should be doable -- if I can maintain that rate, I'll be done by the 21st December, and then the uni will be on shutdown, and it is entirely reasonable to believe that I can assemble the rows (I might actually do some assembly ahead of that) and get it done.

I had some paper blanks to draw, which I did through the week (I was short four because of the mishap earlier with doing the margins wrong), and I've laid out three of the slightly odd ones. I sewed the first of those today, trimmed it, did a seam on the next, and declared that was enough. But it does put me ahead by a block and a half :) (the incomplete is a three pieces of fabric block, rather than a seven pieces of fabric block, so it is half done with a single seam. Yes, it is weird).

I had been underwhelmed with the selection of fabrics on the first block, but I trusted in the planning, and sewed them, and I'm really happy with the way they look. I might have to unpick the second one, because it isn't quite sitting right, but I might just trim it slightly differently.

I do have some other craft goals for the rest of the year, but if I only achieve one, this is the one that I want to have done. I have finished the second section of the brown / green blanket, I just have to cast on for the third (I'm picking up along the side, which is a new-to-me skill, and I am very much procrastinating. Going to go and lay it out now, and see if I can motivate myself to at least decide how many stitches I'm going to pick up :) )

* stretch goal: sandwich and start quilting; not plausible goal: bind / finish

fayanora

So on a YouTube video by Vsauce, I was introduced to the idea of "constrained poetry." IE, poetry that has certain constraints, like "you can only use words with the letter 'o'. Use that O as much as you want, but no other vowels can be in the poem." Thus, on a whim, I took up the challenge, with the letter O. Here is what I made:

O! Do bloody bombs of old long go,
For holy blood to grossly flow!
Folk of blood, do not long swoon,
Opt to jog, to trot, to croon!
O! Croon so on yon holy chord
Shoots lofty words for world concord!
Knock on rooftops, knock on doors,
From tor tops lofty to yon low moors!
For who so wroth, so forg'd of scorn,
Chops down concord, short of sons forsworn?

~

Hope y'all enjoy it, I spent like two hours on this whim. The last sentence was the hardest, because I was trying to say something along the lines of "who could forswear peace?" and let me tell you, trying to find alternate words for could or would that only have O vowels in them was so damned frustrating. I was even looking into the etymology of the word, and archaic ways to do it, and I was sooo tempted to just use "wood" instead of "would," but I like what I did instead.

Yeah I also added the constraint of "it has to rhyme," too, which added another level of difficulty to it.

Current Mood: exhausted

fayanora

Went can-boxing tonight. (Looking for returnables worth money.) Found fifty-three returnables, which is worth $5.30. So my third green bag from before is filled all the way, and a fourth one is half full. Already took in the first two bags a few days ago, so just these two now. Fun thing: these full green bags fit in the new cart with so much room to spare I can easily carry two of them at once. Same thing was barely doable at all with a lot of struggling, using the smaller cart that's broken now.

While I was out, I got a few things at the grocery store, too.

rachelmanija

Roman left the family business, a crematory, and its town to become an accountant to the rich and famous. His sister now runs the crematory with their father, while their younger brother Dante stays on the rolls but his actual profession is being a drug addict and ne'er do well. When the kids were teenagers, their mother vanished. Their father is widely suspected of having murdered his wife and cremated his body, but no proof was ever found. When the book opens, Roman hears that his father is in the hospital, victim of a suspicious accident. He heads home to visit his father and help out his sister. Naturally, he immediately gets embroiled in trouble.

I've loved or liked all of Cosby's previous books and was very excited for this one - especially given the crematory setting. (Cosby himself ran a funeral home with his wife.) Unfortunately, I did not like or feel connected to any of the characters in this one, and so I didn't care what happened to them. Cosby's characters are typically criminals who do bad things, but in his other books, I understand the reasons they are who they are and like them even if I wouldn't want to meet them in real life. But in this one, fairly early on, Roman - who I already didn't feel connected to - commits an act of horrifying cruelty that seems completely unmotivated.

( Read more... )

It's possible that this is explained later, and my guess is that the explanation is "Roman is actually a sadistic sociopath," but I lost all interest in him at that point, and DNF'd the book as I no longer wanted to read about him, none of the other characters interested me either, and the sadistic sociopath explanation doesn't help. I heard an interview with Cosby where he talks about wanting to write a classic tragedy with a very bad protagonist a la Macbeth, which makes his intention make more sense to me, but it doesn't make me want to return to the book.

Cosby is a great author but this book was a miss for me. I HIGHLY recommend Blacktop Wasteland and Razorblade Tears for very well-written books where bad people do bad things that are very motivated, and you can't help rooting for them to succeed. I recommend All Sinners Bleed for a well-written book about a good guy fighting both crime and legal bad things. I recommend My Darkest Prayer for a fun, OTT thriller with a very Marty Stu protagonist. I don't recommend this.

rachelmanija

Yuletide signups are open!

Here's the tagset showing what's eligible to request and offer.

What intrigues you in the tag set? And who plans to participate this year?

rachelmanija

Thank you for writing for me! If you have any questions, please check with the mods. I am a very easy recipient and will be delighted with whatever you write for me. I have no special requirements beyond what's specifically stated in my DNWs. I'm fine with all POVs (i.e., first, second, third), tenses, ratings, story lengths, etc.

My AO3 name is Edonohana. I am open to treats. Very open. I love them.

This year I have gone for a slate of obscure-even-for-Yuletide canons plus a few less obscure canons with obscure-even-for-Yuletide characters. Some of my prompts are longer than others, but I want everything equally.

I like hurt-comfort, action/adventure, horror, domestic life, worldbuilding, evocative descriptions, camaraderie, loyalty, trauma recovery, difficult choices, survival situations, mysterious places and weird alien technology, food, plants, animals, landscape, X-Men type powers, learning to love again or trust again or enjoy life again, miniature things or beings, magic, strange rituals, unknowable things, epistolary fiction, found footage/art/creepy movies/etc, canon divergence AUs anf alternate versions of characters. I particularly love deadly/horrifying yet weirdly beautiful settings, especially if there's elements of space/time/reality warping as well. And many other things, too, of course! That list is just in case something sparks an idea.

( General DNWs )

( Crossroad - Barbara Hambly )

( Earthsea - Ursula K. Le Guin )

( Fire Dancer Series - Ann Maxwell )

( Ki and Vandien Quartet - Megan Lindholm )

( The Last Hot Time - John M. Ford )

( Lyra - Patricia Wrede )

eller

... for me. XD As in, I'm likely the only one ever to use this.

Living-Shadow

My usual "shadow color" is PV23, which is - unless we count some extremely rare and extremely expensive alternative - pretty much the only blue-violet available on the watercolor market, but lately I've been wishing for an even more blue-ish tone and a bit of granulation in my shadow zones, so... This is PV23 together with ultramarine blue (PB29) and ultramarine violet (PV15). I'm very happy with the result, though I'm aware this is a product for a target group of one. XD

sabotabby

Just finished: Girls Against God by Jenny Hval. I really don't know what to make of it. It's one of those very cool concepts—body horror! time travel! art! black metal! feminism!—that fails somewhat in execution but fails in interesting ways. It's divided into three parts, the first being a stream-of-consciousness rant by a girl who joins a Norwegian black metal band/aspiring witches coven a few years too late, after the scene has fallen apart, and her desire to rebel against the patriarchy and religion. By the end of the first section I had gone from "well, this is how teenage girls sound, this is how I sounded when I was a teenager" to vaguely annoyed. But then the second two, which are hallucinogenic body horror fever dreams, absolutely whip. I wanted the whole book to be like that.

Currently reading: The Magic Words: Writing Great Books for Children and Young Adults by Cheryl B. Klein. Why am I reading a book about writing YA when I have no desire to ever write YA, and knowing the thoughts of teenagers is something I strongly feel I should not have to do without financial compensation? Well, because I got into a discussion with another writer about craft books, and how I don't normally read them, and he recommended this and another one to change my mind about craft books. And also because I seem to have written myself into a situation where I have a teenage POV character, and despite being surrounded by kids all day, writing as one is a whole different ballgame.

So far it's pretty good—I rather like the brainstorming exercises at the end of each section, and the respect that the author has for really good children's/YA fiction (which does, of course, exist, and there's probably even more of it than when I was young, but I wasn't particularly interested in reading about teenagers when I was a teenager). It's 2017 though, so there's a lot more praise for a certain Formerly Beloved Children's Author than she deserves, so if you're going to read it, be warned.

fred_mouse

PSA: everyone please remember to do your breast self-examinations. This is absolutely a half-arsed is better than can't be arsed situation.

Earlier this year a friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. So far so good, chemo seems to have done its job, etc etc.

It made me realise I wasn't reliably doing my breast self-exams post endometrial ablation, because I no longer have a menstrual cycle to remind me. And so I've been doing them somewhat regularly, possibly more often than once a month, because more frequent is better than less, and time is a slippery concept. Also, my breasts never ceased to be lumpy post teen years, and I'm never entirely sure that I'll remember what the lumps feel like, so more frequently is better for me. I'm aware that my breasts get more tender cyclically. However, the left one became continuously sore on the outside edge and into the arm pit, so I raised it with my doctor, who sent me for mammogram and ultrasound. Which was this morning.

Surprisingly, the medicos were not concerned about the left breast. I was called back for additional imaging on the mammogram for the right breast. And then there were a lot more images taken of the right with the ultrasound, and the sonographer went and got the radiographer to declare if they wanted more done. The upshot is that I have something that wasn't there on the previous scan. They were discussing wait six months and rescan vs biopsy; I made a flippant comment about also having had a benign nodule in a lung, and one about how bright the bit on the image looked. One of those two things flipped the radiographer to 'right, biopsy, get a referral from your doctor'.

This is on the side I'm not feeling anything wrong at all. Which is why the reminder: keep checking for these things.

Also, I'm having at least a mental health half day, because the idea of reading about imaginaries of genAI is Too Much.

rachelmanija

This is an outstanding work of narrative nonfiction about the sinking of the merchant marine ship El Faro, with no survivors, on October 1, 2015. As far as anyone could tell initially, the captain inexplicably sailed the ship straight into the eye of Hurricane Joaquin, which he definitely knew was there.

Then the black box got retrieved. It had the complete audio recordings of everything that happened on the ship for 26 hours before it sank, right up to its final moments. Rachel Slade, a journalist, used the complete audio plus in-depth interviews with everyone who could possibly have any light to shed on the matter to write the book. She not only gives an analysis of what happened and why, she covers all the surrounding circumstances that led to it. It's an outstanding work of nonfiction disaster reporting that often reads like a suspense novel, it will teach you a lot about many things, and it will make you very angry.

The culprit, essentially, was capitalism. A company called TOTE took over the original company that owned the ship and put a business bro who knew nothing about shipping in charge. He fired a bunch of people at random on the theory that there were too many employees, and slashed maintenance because it was expensive. Everyone who was experienced, skilled, and not desperate who hadn't already been fired quit, leaving only people who were inexperienced, unskilled, undesirable for other reasons, desperate, or in low-level positions where they had no influence on general operations, on a ship in serious need of repairs and upgrades. TOTE put enormous pressure on the captain to get the ship to its destination on time, no matter what, to save money. Finally, there were multiple sources for weather reports, the one which was most current was more complicated to use, and not everyone understood that the other source could be nine hours behind.

The captain had been investigated for sexual harassment, had a history of poor judgment calls, and had the social skills of Captain Ahab; because of this, he knew he was on thin ice and if he got fired from the El Faro, he might not get another job as captain. The second mate was a young woman trying to make it in a men's world who had reported him for harassing her, and dealt by avoiding him as much as possible. The entire crew was operating under a system where the captain was basically God. The only way to contact the outside world, like if for instance a crew member wanted to report that the captain was set on sailing them into a hurricane, was a satellite phone that only the captain had access to.

Basically everyone but the captain was worried they'd sail into the hurricane, the captain was worried he'd get fired if he took the long way around to avoid the hurricane and didn't realize that his weather reports were not up to date, everyone was tiptoeing around or avoiding the captain because he was a giant asshole who was also the God-King, and no one had any way to overrule or go around him.

The culture of "never question the captain even if he's obviously wrong" has caused a number of plane crashes, and the aviation world responded by instituting a system of training to teach crew members to speak up forcefully if they think the captain is making a mistake, complete with exactly how to phrase it. If you're interested in this, it's called Cockpit/Crew Resource Management (CRM); the podcast "Black Box Down" has a number of episodes involving it.

CRM would have been helpful for the El Faro, as would giving the crew private access to the satellite phone or some other way of reporting on the captain. And, of course, so would not allowing companies to put workers in extremely unsafe conditions. Regulations are written in blood. Worse, the blood can spill and nothing gets written at all.

An excellent book. I recommend it to anyone with an interest in disasters, survival, or the failure mode of capitalism.

fayanora

This German kids' song with a techno beat is legit a banger, and I think I actually learned something from it! Might have found a cheat code for learning a foreign language!

PS = As you can tell from the title, I just basically doubled my German vocabulary. I had to look back to the video to spell gesehen because it isn't spelled at all like how its pronounced, but that was the only one I had to look up after about a dozen repetitions of the song.

rachelmanija

This book contains several elements which I like very much: it's epistolatory, it has mysterious ancient sophisticated machinery, and it involves very big size differences. I love miniature things and people, but I also love giants and giant things. This novel is entirely in the form of interviews, and it begins with a young girl walking in the woods who falls into a sinkhole, and lands in the palm of a GIANT HAND. (I can't believe that image isn't on the cover, because it's so striking and is also by far the best part of the book.) The gigantic hand is metal, and it turns out that there are pieces of a complete ancient giant robot scattered all over the world! What happens when the whole giant robot is assembled?

It turns out that what happens is yet another example of a great idea making a bad book, largely - AGAIN - by failing to engage with the premise! WHY IS THIS SO COMMON????

To be fair, this book has many bad elements which do not involve failing to lean into its premise.

The entire book consists of interviews by an unnamed, very mysterious person with near-infinite money and power. He is hiring people to locate the robot parts, assemble them, and pilot it. He also conducts personal interviews with them in which he pries into their love lives in a bizarrely personal manner. It's clearly because the author wanted to have a love story (he shouldn't have, it's terrible) and figured this was the only way to do it and keep the format, but it makes no sense. The interviewers do object to this line of questioning, but not in the way that I kept wanting them to, which would have been along the lines of "Don't you have anything better to do than get wank material from your employees? Drop it, or I'll go to HR."

The girl who fell into the hand grows up to be a physicist who gets hired to... I forget what exactly, but it didn't make much sense even when I was reading it. Anyway, she's on the project. There's also a badass female helicopter pilot, and a male linguist to translate the mysterious giant robot inscriptions. All these people are the biggest geniuses ever but are also total idiots. All the women are incredibly "man writing women."

Most annoyingly, the robot does not seem to be sentient, does not communicate, does not have a personality, and only walks for like 30 seconds once.

Spoilers! ( Read more... )

I feel stupider for having read this book.

It's a trilogy but even people who liked the first book say the returns steadily diminish.

I normally don't think it's cool to criticize people's appearances, but in this case, this dude chose to go with this supremely tryhard author photo.

fayanora

Sometimes I wish I was a better artist, so that I could get my visions onto the page better. I've tried drawing the Myrkalves / Nua Sidhe before, and I can never quite capture how creepy they can look in their true form. They're described in the books like... well the Nua Sidhe are basically the Gray Aliens from folklore, but that doesn't really do them justice either. Both are avian beings; Nua Sidhe are usually entirely featherless with pale skin (ranging from paper white to medium gray, generally), but the Myrkalves have downy feathers where a human would have hair, but also on their arms. Both have backwards-bending knees and feet like giant ravens, and similar hands. And while they can look quite pleasant most of the time (IMHO), I have this image in my mind of their apparently tiny mouths widening into these impossibly wide grins that go literally from one ear-hole to the other, with two rows of sharp and pointed teeth.

Avian, yes, but also not. Their biggest obvious difference from birds is their large, almond-shaped compound eyes.

In case it wasn't obvious, they are technically the same species but the two peoples hate each other, mostly. For good reason. The Nua Sidhe have a tendency to abduct people. They initially did it to the Myrkalves, to enslave them. But they also do it to humans for various reasons ranging from pranks to much more serious things like experimenting on or even killing humans.

pilottttt

Если вы ждёте от меня длииииинный список достопримечательностей – то не дождётесь. А потому, что Чирчик – это небольшой городок на одноимённой реке, основанный в 1932 году вместе с химкомбинатом и каскадом ГЭС и, в общем-то, не содержащий в себе ничего исторического (ну – почти). Собственно слово «Чирчик» происходит от того же корня, что и «Сырдарья» (корень «чир»/«сыр» имеет целую уйму вариантов переводов), потому название это в принципе можно понимать как «Малая Сырдарья» (тем более, что река Чирчик – это самый полноводный приток Сырдарьи).

Сама идея этой поездки проистекла из того факта, что в Чирчике поселилось аж целых два наших хороших знакомых (одного из них зовут Пётр, а другая – Мария, та самая, с которой мы когда-то гуляли по Навои, а потом ездили на Айдаркуль). Они-то и пригласили нас погулять по этому городу. И мы немедленно воспользовались приглашением.

Обещанные в заголовке этого поста приключения начались ещё до того, как мы успели выйти из электрички. Ехали мы туда на чиноркентском экспрессе, который по какому-то чудесному совпадению прибыл на станцию Бозсу как раз в тот момент, когда он должен был прибыть на станцию Чирчик. Объявления названий остановок в электричках Узбекистана по какой-то загадочной причине не прижились, так что ориентироваться в них приходится либо визуально, либо по времени. Итак, наша электричка въезжает в некий населённый пункт, который в принципе выглядит как город Чирчик, и останавливается на некой станции, которая в принципе может являться станцией Чирчик. На часах – корректное время прибытия на станцию Чирчик. Вывод простой: мы на станции Чирчик. Выходим наружу, и… И – не обнаруживаем там никого, кроме нескольких сотрудников этой станции. Смотрим внимательно на здание вокзала и видим там (!!! сюрприз !!!) надпись «Станция Бозсу». Забежать обратно в электричку – уже не вариант (она только что уехала, оставив нас стоять на пустом перроне). Оглядываемся вокруг в поисках чего-то, что может быть похоже на такси. Такси нет. Есть только одна-единственная машина, на которой эти самые сотрудники станции собираются куда-то поехать. Ну, что делать – подходим к ним, объясняем ситуацию. Они в ответ, долго не думая, предлагают подбросить нас до дороги, где мы сможем найти себе транспорт до станции Чирчик. Благодарим, садимся в машину – и вот через пару минут мы уже стоим на перекрёстке. Я поднимаю руку, Маша начинает произносить фразу «Всё равно никто не остановится…», но в этот самый момент возле нас останавливается автомобиль. Ну да, вы помните, «автомобиль» в здешнем понимании – это, по-умолчанию, белый Chevrolet. Именно он и остановился. Договариваемся с водителем о цене – и минут через пятнадцать уже стоим возле станции Чирчик. Оттуда – созваниваемся с дожидавшимися нас друзьями, находим друг друга и идём гулять вдоль канала.

Главная водная артерия города Чирчик – это, внезапно, не река Чирчик, а канал Бозсу. Да-да, тот самый, что когда-то возник из старого речного русла, а ныне является главным источником воды и электричества для Ташкента и всех его окрестностей.

( Смотреть ещё )

Прямо у самого забора монастыря, на стоянке, мы находим несколько «Дамасов» с надписью «Метро» на лобовом стекле. Это – самый простой способ добраться отсюда до Ташкента. Прощаемся с друзьями, грузимся в один из тех «Дамасов» – и уже через час с мелочью оказываемся дома.

Техническая информация:

Наименование объекта: Чирчик
Статья на Википедии: https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/Чирчик_(город)

Географические координаты: 41.4683, 69.58138
Высота над уровнем моря: 582 m

На Google-карте: 41.4683,69.58138
На Яндекс-карте: 41.4683,69.58138

Почтовый адрес: Узбекистан, 111700, Ташкентская обл., г. Чирчик

Current Location: Чирчик, Ташкентская область, Узбекистан

Profile

franklanguage

May 2025

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Page Summary

alierak in dw_maintenance - AWS outage
fred_mouse - weather
fred_mouse - (no subject)
pilottttt - Итак...
sabotabby - podcast friday
eller - Watercolor: North German Essentials XD
fred_mouse - Craft - Eldest's quilt
fayanora - Sometimes my whims take me annoying places.
fayanora - Fifty-three
rachelmanija - King of Ashes, by S. A. Cosby: DNF
rachelmanija - My favorite winter holiday is upon us!
rachelmanija - Dear Yuletide Writer,
eller - Useful color...
sabotabby - Reading Wednesday
fred_mouse - PSA, mental health day
rachelmanija - Into the Raging Sea: 33 Mariners, One Megastorm, and the Sinking of El Faro, by Rachel Slade
fayanora - Wo is meine mama? Wer hat sie gesehen?
rachelmanija - Sleeping Giants, by Sylvain Neuvel
fayanora - Woe betide my errant skills
pilottttt - Чирчик. Фотопрогулка без достопримечательностей, но с приключениями

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Page generated Oct. 20th, 2025 03:54 pm

My so-called journal

Reading

AWS outage

weather

(no subject)

Итак...

podcast friday

Watercolor: North German Essentials XD

Craft - Eldest's quilt

Sometimes my whims take me annoying places.

Fifty-three

King of Ashes, by S. A. Cosby: DNF

My favorite winter holiday is upon us!

Dear Yuletide Writer,

Useful color...

Reading Wednesday

PSA, mental health day

Into the Raging Sea: 33 Mariners, One Megastorm, and the Sinking of El Faro, by Rachel Slade

Wo is meine mama? Wer hat sie gesehen?

Sleeping Giants, by Sylvain Neuvel

Woe betide my errant skills

Чирчик. Фотопрогулка без достопримечательностей, но с приключениями

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May 2025

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