Goat Notes

Hard Work

Mon, 14 May 2012 08:06:59 GMT

I ran across this and it seemed like the season for it was coming round again:

When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose'?

- Don Marquis

That's Don Marquis the author and journalist, of archy and mehitabel fame (d. 1937) - not Don Marquis the professor of moral philosophy (b.1935), whom I am not apt to be quoting any time soon.

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This Is the Plural of Impossible Princess

Mon, 31 Oct 2011 09:10:22 GMT

Killer-Kate and Luke Lackland: 370 words. Kate gives the Young Duke the first barrel.

Also several hundred words of the increasingly weird dual Wood of Weyre fairy-stories that are obtruding myself on my attention. My Muse is veering between the Cinderella variant, and its Snow Whitey sequel a generation down the line, as each feeds back loopily upon the other. (The Snow character's being the Cinderella's character's daughter is the least of the craziness.) It's a bit of a distraction, but writing it until Cynthia Coeur-de-Verre and her friends get bored with me is the price I'm paying for any sleep at all, just at present.

Meanwhile, I return from half-term holidays to work, to discover the real world imitating the Wood of Weyre as heartily as it is able. Nnnngh!

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Hopping From It

Wed, 21 Sep 2011 06:33:01 GMT

Killer-Kate and Luke Lackland: 380 words. Excursion with puffins. Good Katy doesn't seem, after all, to have accomplished everything everybody hoped for - I'll need in the redraft to be a bit clearer about just who thought the Night Without Stars accomplished just what.

Somewhere near Stoneygates, there is a man voluntarily going under the alias of Hob Hop-Toad. He and some other fellows should get to make their reports tonight. That's going to go down like black pudding at the Vegan Society banquet!

Speaking of black pudding, I've now finished the worst of my annual wade through blood and offal in the course of my employment. The first Open Day of the term - a separate event! - is also safely accomplished.

I begin to see a light at the end of the Friday...

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It's Vulture-Gaggin' Bad!

Mon, 06 Jun 2011 08:48:41 GMT

After a pleasant week of Family Stuff, I returned to work to discover a defrosted freezer. The contents, which were mostly liver and lights, had reached the stage of sending out miasmas and pseudopods. The Offaly Civilization has now been destroyed, but long shall its memory be green. Crimson, purple, billy-brown and black also.

My back is staging demonstrations for shorter weights and better pay.

My home access to LJ seems to have mostly gone away, hanging forever whilst contacting "userapi.com". Some folk report solving a similar problem by forcing their router to grab them a new dynamic IP address. Doesn't work for me.

In a more encouraging development, I've finally achieved my perfect sausage risotto - my previous standard being mediocre at best. The secret, such as it is, involves more chilli and garlic, more carrot and coriander soup, and the introduction of small quantities of olives and tomato salsa. This advance was achieved by one part instinct, three parts advice, and nine parts blind ridiculous luck.

Aaaand it's time to get writing again.

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