Weekend, and Neverwhere
Odd weekend, away with family at a rented cottage near Cheltenham... Family managed to do no more than vaguely threaten to murder one-another, so that was an improvement on the usual. Much blustery, freezing hill walking and viewing of famous race course was had, and I think we spent the vast majority of Saturday afternoon wandering around the chav end of the lovely spa town.. go figure.
It was nice enough, just that the cottage itself had a slightly strange atmosphere and it made me uncomfortable being there. Last night, especially, was one long round of nightmares, and my middle sis woke up this morning and said exactly the same thing.
So odd certainly... but the cottage was a new-build, albeit in a historic area, and although my friend texted me last night about all the hauntings she'd found online in the next road to where we were staying, that really wasn't what freaked me at all. It was just one of those places you run into occasionally, where you don't feel welcome. Everyone else seemed to think it was just fine, so there you go. Another one to chalk up to experience (not as odd as the great Haunted Motel 6 in New Hampshire last year, but hey).
Demon kitten was left with nice cat-loving neighbours, and proceeded to disappear the moment we drove away, sending them on a 6 hour panic-stricken kitten-hunt. She was, of course, curled up in a corner sleeping somewhere and emerged to torment them as they gave up looking.... Stands to reason really. I've been back five hours and she's already chewed through the cord attaching my laptop pointer pen and keeps trying to knock vases down from the cabinets. We're Having Words. I'd be happier if the several bunches of birthday flowers sitting around the place weren't stuffed with lilies, as the smell kinda turns my stomach and the pollen is basically kitten poison. Ick.
My poor hands had 48 hours to recover from their kitten wounds but she's more than made up for any healing since I've been home... she's demented and spiteful and sadly I still adore her. Obviously I made the mistake of joking to my grandmother that people might think the interesting array of scratches across my hands looked like they were self-inflicted, haha...
Lordy, remind me not to do that again. I can really do without the lecture on 'what people might actually think' and how I shouldn't let the cat scratch me. Because apparently I stand there and invite her to inflict all this damage... (no, really, I just get stuck with putting her to bed every night and shutting her in the kitchen. It's a ridiculously long and painful process as she tends to be hyper and spend all day sharpening her claws, but that way she doesn't jump on my head at 3am).
elsewhere... I devoured all of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere over the weekend; my bookreading muscles hadn't been stretched so much in months, and it was fabulous. It's ticking over strange half-memories of when the tv series was on many moons ago and I so very much have to go buy the dvd now. In terms of retroactive casting, yep, I can totally see Laura Fraser as Door, that totally works.
And now I need some sleep...
It was nice enough, just that the cottage itself had a slightly strange atmosphere and it made me uncomfortable being there. Last night, especially, was one long round of nightmares, and my middle sis woke up this morning and said exactly the same thing.
So odd certainly... but the cottage was a new-build, albeit in a historic area, and although my friend texted me last night about all the hauntings she'd found online in the next road to where we were staying, that really wasn't what freaked me at all. It was just one of those places you run into occasionally, where you don't feel welcome. Everyone else seemed to think it was just fine, so there you go. Another one to chalk up to experience (not as odd as the great Haunted Motel 6 in New Hampshire last year, but hey).
Demon kitten was left with nice cat-loving neighbours, and proceeded to disappear the moment we drove away, sending them on a 6 hour panic-stricken kitten-hunt. She was, of course, curled up in a corner sleeping somewhere and emerged to torment them as they gave up looking.... Stands to reason really. I've been back five hours and she's already chewed through the cord attaching my laptop pointer pen and keeps trying to knock vases down from the cabinets. We're Having Words. I'd be happier if the several bunches of birthday flowers sitting around the place weren't stuffed with lilies, as the smell kinda turns my stomach and the pollen is basically kitten poison. Ick.
My poor hands had 48 hours to recover from their kitten wounds but she's more than made up for any healing since I've been home... she's demented and spiteful and sadly I still adore her. Obviously I made the mistake of joking to my grandmother that people might think the interesting array of scratches across my hands looked like they were self-inflicted, haha...
Lordy, remind me not to do that again. I can really do without the lecture on 'what people might actually think' and how I shouldn't let the cat scratch me. Because apparently I stand there and invite her to inflict all this damage... (no, really, I just get stuck with putting her to bed every night and shutting her in the kitchen. It's a ridiculously long and painful process as she tends to be hyper and spend all day sharpening her claws, but that way she doesn't jump on my head at 3am).
elsewhere... I devoured all of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere over the weekend; my bookreading muscles hadn't been stretched so much in months, and it was fabulous. It's ticking over strange half-memories of when the tv series was on many moons ago and I so very much have to go buy the dvd now. In terms of retroactive casting, yep, I can totally see Laura Fraser as Door, that totally works.
And now I need some sleep...