No Oastian heating. Bone hair sticks, long full skirts and a WWI jacket...
Today I did accounts, also sorted the remains of my mother's clothes and shoes into what might be feasibly wearable in the future. A skirt, some jumpers and a couple of shirts remained. Swathes of nicely made Italian 1970s boots and fancy shoes were culled along with a fur coat, a leather gilet and some 1960s Beeba clothes my mother had held on to.
Next step will be reminding myself these clothes neither fit nor suit me no matter how cool they are, and then shall be trying to sell them on ebay and not feel awful or like I'm destroying things.
I also read a biography of Cpt. Lawrence 'Titus' Oates by Michael Smith today.
It was very well researched and did its best to remain balanced; the author obviously admired Oates but wasn't blind to his faults. I think I rather hoped reading the biography would either satisfy my neurons or give them renewed interest - so either way they'd stop stumbling round snow blind in mini ice pits 'til they fell over and a Silver fished them out and instead get on with things. In this as in many things I am disappointed.
Feh. It's likely just the season. Samhain, Saints day, Remembrance day, Armistice, various death days I don't approve of and too many ghosts I'm fond of makes November not the best of corvidic months I think. PLUS I'm sort of between projects and have no immediate thing to look forward to despite also being busy.*
I do not watch TV. Even at the Oast I'm more likely to be looking at Mercy's screen or a book page than the TV. None the less, so far whilst grudgingly paying attention: there has been a HD view of both North and South Poles... 'Garrow's Law' has gone to Bedlam (and included an actor who was both in Neverwhere and SH '09 as Bedlam's caretaker)... 'The Suspicions of Mr Witcher' has dealt with murder and madness and scandal. (It has also made me both applaud and lament its attention to the details of 1860s victorian life, AND contained another Neverwhere actor.)... Then there was the antiques program which seemed to be all about WWI heroes, fighter pilot mascot cats, and letters from 1946 that could reduce everyone to tears through an understated but heartfelt mix of love, duty, and regard.
There is a sort of synchronicity but I'm doubtful as to its benefits.
Right now I'm sorry I don't have anyone I love to talk to.
I'm sorry I don't have a place of my own to decorate and inhabit as I wish.
I'm dispirited that my future continues to be so uncertain, and that I have little courage or means to force it onto a better path.
I still (ridiculously) want a cat. A cat who choses me. But I generally lack the money the space and the opportunity. (Mm, don't I always.)
Oh look, that would me being tired and mopey.
* = (Ahem. If you haven't guessed, 'projects' are random endeavors of a creative and usually {sadly} unfunded nature which amuse my neurons hugely and {often but not always} involve much labour, expense and swearing on my behalf. They also tend to have extremely limited or indeed no commercial or practical value. Into this category falls such things as costume making, unpublishable novel writing, tattoo design, and personal jewellery making or screenprints which aren't commissioned.)
Next step will be reminding myself these clothes neither fit nor suit me no matter how cool they are, and then shall be trying to sell them on ebay and not feel awful or like I'm destroying things.
I also read a biography of Cpt. Lawrence 'Titus' Oates by Michael Smith today.
It was very well researched and did its best to remain balanced; the author obviously admired Oates but wasn't blind to his faults. I think I rather hoped reading the biography would either satisfy my neurons or give them renewed interest - so either way they'd stop stumbling round snow blind in mini ice pits 'til they fell over and a Silver fished them out and instead get on with things. In this as in many things I am disappointed.
Feh. It's likely just the season. Samhain, Saints day, Remembrance day, Armistice, various death days I don't approve of and too many ghosts I'm fond of makes November not the best of corvidic months I think. PLUS I'm sort of between projects and have no immediate thing to look forward to despite also being busy.*
I do not watch TV. Even at the Oast I'm more likely to be looking at Mercy's screen or a book page than the TV. None the less, so far whilst grudgingly paying attention: there has been a HD view of both North and South Poles... 'Garrow's Law' has gone to Bedlam (and included an actor who was both in Neverwhere and SH '09 as Bedlam's caretaker)... 'The Suspicions of Mr Witcher' has dealt with murder and madness and scandal. (It has also made me both applaud and lament its attention to the details of 1860s victorian life, AND contained another Neverwhere actor.)... Then there was the antiques program which seemed to be all about WWI heroes, fighter pilot mascot cats, and letters from 1946 that could reduce everyone to tears through an understated but heartfelt mix of love, duty, and regard.
There is a sort of synchronicity but I'm doubtful as to its benefits.
Right now I'm sorry I don't have anyone I love to talk to.
I'm sorry I don't have a place of my own to decorate and inhabit as I wish.
I'm dispirited that my future continues to be so uncertain, and that I have little courage or means to force it onto a better path.
I still (ridiculously) want a cat. A cat who choses me. But I generally lack the money the space and the opportunity. (Mm, don't I always.)
Oh look, that would me being tired and mopey.
* = (Ahem. If you haven't guessed, 'projects' are random endeavors of a creative and usually {sadly} unfunded nature which amuse my neurons hugely and {often but not always} involve much labour, expense and swearing on my behalf. They also tend to have extremely limited or indeed no commercial or practical value. Into this category falls such things as costume making, unpublishable novel writing, tattoo design, and personal jewellery making or screenprints which aren't commissioned.)