Wherein Corvid topic-hops and sounds mildly delirious. Which she might be, she isn't sure.
I am behind on pretty much everything. I probably owe you an email or an lj comment. Sorry.
I feel decidedly unwell after small neuron-niece coughed and snotted over me all weekend. Ah well.
I did find an ink pad. My melted fingers and thumb still hold a print. I'm most disappointed.
Also this weekend there was no heat as the gauge on the gas tank froze so the LPG ran out and no one knew. Brrr.
Neurons are doing obsessive story-research again. Stupid neurons. It's only meant to be a short story for kerristsake, but so far it has involved a lot of squinting at maps and photos of Paris, pointless research on the Seine, a lot of slogging through chapters of Hugo's delightful wibble, and learning how to swear like a bastard in French (something GCSE was sadly lax on). I have yet to discover if men wore anything beneath their britches in the 1820s. I assume they did wear some sort of cotton-ish knickerbocker-style thing, but maybe not. Anyone know? I also need to look into civil unrest in 1823, but that's far easier to find out then info on bloke's underwear. Bah.
I feel weird and I ache. I should go to bed. And I will. After I've written some more and bitched a lot about the apparent mystery of men's underwear. And maybe had tea. And written some more again.
In a very unrelated request, please could anyone in the Shamblyland flat put my carton of soup in the freezer so it doesn't go off? Thank you.
I feel decidedly unwell after small neuron-niece coughed and snotted over me all weekend. Ah well.
I did find an ink pad. My melted fingers and thumb still hold a print. I'm most disappointed.
Also this weekend there was no heat as the gauge on the gas tank froze so the LPG ran out and no one knew. Brrr.
Neurons are doing obsessive story-research again. Stupid neurons. It's only meant to be a short story for kerristsake, but so far it has involved a lot of squinting at maps and photos of Paris, pointless research on the Seine, a lot of slogging through chapters of Hugo's delightful wibble, and learning how to swear like a bastard in French (something GCSE was sadly lax on). I have yet to discover if men wore anything beneath their britches in the 1820s. I assume they did wear some sort of cotton-ish knickerbocker-style thing, but maybe not. Anyone know? I also need to look into civil unrest in 1823, but that's far easier to find out then info on bloke's underwear. Bah.
I feel weird and I ache. I should go to bed. And I will. After I've written some more and bitched a lot about the apparent mystery of men's underwear. And maybe had tea. And written some more again.
In a very unrelated request, please could anyone in the Shamblyland flat put my carton of soup in the freezer so it doesn't go off? Thank you.