Sryashta spins golden yarn inside which she weaves your fate. (If you are a good and kind person, she may just take matters into her own capable hands and improve it.)
She is the goddess of good fortune and serves as the household assistant of Mokosh, the Slavic earth goddess.
Sryashta is a variant of the Dolya/Nedolya myth.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Rainbow Book Stand
This is only available in Japan for now, and I'm not sure about the ease of turning pages, but I'm pretty sure I want this.
I read a book in high school about this saintly quadriplegic, the title was Joni (her name). This contraption looks like the frame thingey they put her in to keep her spine aligned. kinda creepy. but at least yur arms would not get tired. what I really need is one for the bathtub.
I'm usually okay in the tub, because the water gets cold before my arms get tired, but I could add hours to my bed-time reading with this thing.
Sometimes I worry that, should I ever again find myself in a position to invite a man into my bedroom, there won't be any room for him, what with the books and pillows and lights and notebooks and lapdesks and magazines and catalogs . . . I'm turning into more of a hermit every day. A very celibate hermit.
7 comments:
Oh, man. This'll make crack look like decaf.
-J.
I read a book in high school about this saintly quadriplegic, the title was Joni (her name). This contraption looks like the frame thingey they put her in to keep her spine aligned. kinda creepy. but at least yur arms would not get tired. what I really need is one for the bathtub.
It would have to sit a lot closer to my face unless the book were super large print!
that is neat, but what about when I want to curl up on by side with the book?
BB has it right, it would be great for the bathtub.
BB: I remember that book, Joni. This thing would be great for the bathtub but I would need it to be adjustable because I have short arms.
I'm usually okay in the tub, because the water gets cold before my arms get tired, but I could add hours to my bed-time reading with this thing.
Sometimes I worry that, should I ever again find myself in a position to invite a man into my bedroom, there won't be any room for him, what with the books and pillows and lights and notebooks and lapdesks and magazines and catalogs . . . I'm turning into more of a hermit every day. A very celibate hermit.
celibate hermiticity. i see nothing wrong with that. where do i sign up?
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