Grumpy Ni is Grumpy
I was planning to go to the Fireworks tonight, but I woke up with the thumping headache that ibuprofen barely takes the edge off. All the bangs and wandering around alone in the darkness Markeaton Park severely failed to appeal to me.
So I figured I'd stay home and work on Nanowrimo, only to open up the document and realised that my own story is boring the tits off me. It's too late to restart, but then I can always work on my entry to the Terry Pratchett Prize instead. In fact, I'm probably going to need a beta on that one soon. Anyone out there bored and has a Dropbox?
And now I'm reading the Sunday Telegraph (I know, I know, but I gave up on the Times when they put in the paywall) and reading about people feeling sad that they don't spend all day slaved to a preserving pan. Don't get me wrong, I'm never going to say that messing around in the kitchen can't be fun and satisfying* but pouting that people these days don't preserve gets my goat. There's nothing wrong with embracing fridge-freezers, and nothing wrong with the idea that people (mostly women, let's be honest) no longer have to devote one day to jam and one day to salting meat. Despite the impression these immaculate Aga-warmed kitchens (and frankly my own LJ) sometimes gives, there's a whole wide world outside of the kitchen that people want to be free to get out into.
* I wonder how that parkin is going to turn out? I've never cooked with treacle before, it just smelled like cough mixture to me.
ETA: Oh thank you so freaking much, food inflation.
So I figured I'd stay home and work on Nanowrimo, only to open up the document and realised that my own story is boring the tits off me. It's too late to restart, but then I can always work on my entry to the Terry Pratchett Prize instead. In fact, I'm probably going to need a beta on that one soon. Anyone out there bored and has a Dropbox?
And now I'm reading the Sunday Telegraph (I know, I know, but I gave up on the Times when they put in the paywall) and reading about people feeling sad that they don't spend all day slaved to a preserving pan. Don't get me wrong, I'm never going to say that messing around in the kitchen can't be fun and satisfying* but pouting that people these days don't preserve gets my goat. There's nothing wrong with embracing fridge-freezers, and nothing wrong with the idea that people (mostly women, let's be honest) no longer have to devote one day to jam and one day to salting meat. Despite the impression these immaculate Aga-warmed kitchens (and frankly my own LJ) sometimes gives, there's a whole wide world outside of the kitchen that people want to be free to get out into.
* I wonder how that parkin is going to turn out? I've never cooked with treacle before, it just smelled like cough mixture to me.
ETA: Oh thank you so freaking much, food inflation.