A-Z Reading Challenge

I found this challenge at The Luscious Literary Muse and thought I'd give it a try for 2010.  I've reproduced the rules as they appeared on the blog.


"Option A: Read authors A to Z. Commit to reading 26 books theoretically speaking.

Option B: Read titles A to Z. Commit to reading 26 books theoretically speaking.

Option C: Read both authors A to Z and titles A to Z (52 books; this is the challenge Joy created)

Option D: Read internationally A to Z (books representing 26 different countries) (The books could be from international authors (writers from that country); however, it's fine if a book is only set in that country. If need be, instead of countries one could use cities, states, regions, etc. The idea is to use proper place names. If you'd like you could even use a few fictional countries.)

Option E: Read 26 Alphabet books. Embrace your inner child and go visit the children's section!

General rules:

How strict is the 26 or 52? I know it isn't always easy to find those difficult letters. The thought of finding the X's (for example) might scare folks away. It shouldn't! I'm a merciful host! (Ask anyone!)

If you want to give the X's a go... For authors, try to find an X in the first name, middle name, or last name. For titles, it doesn't have to be the starting word. Try to find an X somewhere in a title, and it'd count in my book.

Still can't find a book for the letter you need? I'll take your word for it. I've been there. I know. If your library doesn't see the need to order books just because it starts with an X, then I don't blame you for not wanting to special order a book that you may or may not enjoy. You gave it your best, don't feel bad. You can still make this challenge work for you.

Don't be afraid to ask for recommendations. Look at the previous site. Ask other participants. Or ask me, your host. I may not have the "right" recommendation for every letter, but working together, I bet you'll find something that interests you.

Audio books count in my opinion. If you take the time to listen to books, then that should count towards something.

What about rereads? I don't have a problem with rereads. I would hope that you'd want to mix it up a bit and read some new authors, new titles, etc. But I'm not going to require that by any means.

What about children's books? Children's books and YA books count along with adult fiction and nonfiction of all sorts. (Poetry and plays too. Short stories count if they're in a collection.) I don't see a need to discriminate between "adult" and "kiddie" books. Even picture books can count if you like. Though try to use them in moderation. I used a few picture books to get tricky letters this year."

A Warm Respite

After weeks of running on adrenaline, now that I'm relaxing all the stress I ignored is taking its toll.  I'm tired and headachy and generally feeling rundown, but at least I don't have to be anywhere or do anything and can go take a quick nap if I feel like it.  It hasn't helped that the past few days have been horribly hot and humid which saps me quicker than running a 100-metre dash (not that I've done that in 25 years but you get the picture).

Today the weather was perfect though.  The monsoon rains of the past two days have blown over and it was hot and dry and sunny and I had a gorgeous swim in the pool, although I'm pink and tender tonight.  It's been so long since I've swum and I was enjoying it so much I stayed in even when I could feel my shoulders starting to feel the sun.  I'm not crispy and it's not too painful, but I've lived in England too long. I've lost my tolerance and burn like an English Rose.

We're getting lots of reading and websurfing done and periodically play with the puppy.  Geoff and Anne have a beautiful Cocker Spaniel puppy named Baxter who alternately amuses and infuriates.

Well it's 8pm and I'm wiped out - off to bed.

Taking a Deep Breath

Well, we did it.  After a day of packing and cleaning and more cleaning and more packing we finally got everything into (or onto) the car.  David, bless him, packed the car up and then came in really pleased that he had managed to fit everything in - and then noticed the carpet cleaner my mom had loaned us (which in the end we didn't even use because we ran out of time).  After some cursing and walking round the car, he took out a suitcase and we strapped it to the roof of the car with bungee straps.  We collected up our coats and bags, turned out the lights and locked the door for the last time around 8.30 last night and then drove down to my parents' in Ceres.  I was so exhausted that I zoned out while we were on the 12 and didn't wake up again till we were on the 99 and then zoned out again till after we'd exited the highway and were on my parents' road.  I have to be REALLY tired or sick to sleep in cars or planes so it's an indication of how worn out I was that I slept for nearly half the journey.  When we finally got to the farm at about 11.30 we got out and the suitcase we'd bungeed to the roof had slid down to the back of the car and was hanging on for dear life.  We only unpacked the essentials and made our way upstairs as quietly as we could so as not to wake Mom & Dad (which half worked - Dad sleeps like a log and Mom wakes up if a fly lands on the window screen).

Today I've been achy and slow and have spent most of the day sitting in front of the log fire, chatting with Mom or reading old Period Home magazines.  I've been down here to visit so often over the last two years that it doesn't feel like we've moved - just like we've come for a long visit.  Tomorrow we are visiting with friends and family, Monday is a shopping day, and Tuesday we fly to Brisbane, so after the last few weeks it was essential to have a day like today.  We will be seeing family in Australia but I'm hoping that most of the time will be for lounging around the house and the pool, relaxing and soaking up the sun before the whirl of getting ourselves back to California and then on to what will no doubt be a cold and wet UK.  Evie got an email from a friend in Reading who said that it was snowing there today.

I do want to try and keep up my blog but it's probably going to be patchy for the next month.  So if my dear readers (all two of you) will be patient I'll try and occasionally write something worth waiting for.

A Moment of Reflection in the Midst of Chaos

I'm taking a very short break from everything I have to do today to pause and think about the implications of today, Friday the 18th of December.  This week the movers finally came and took away all the things we had put aside for shipping and when they were done our voices echoed around the suddenly empty space.  Since then I've been trying to get the apartment clean while packing up what we have left, going to work, and saying goodbye to friends.  Yesterday Holly Hughson came and helped with the cleaning - she scrubbed the stove and oven, bless her! Last night we went out for dinner at Armadillos, our favourite Mexican restaurant, for the last time.  Today is my last day at work and I have four hours to get all the last minute jobs done.  When I finish work at noon I have to go home, finish packing, clean the bathroom (bleh) and shampoo all the carpets (bleh bleh) before we can finally try to fit all our stuff into the car and head down to Mom & Dad's. 

So the upshot is that I think I'm going to be too busy today to really appreciate the fact that after two years, it's our last day in Angwin.  It's been an amazing couple of years and I'm hoping to write a post on what it's meant to me - but today is not the day.

The Long Goodbye

The past few days have been full of lunches and dinners to say goodbye to people here at PUC.  Saturday Bruce and Audrey had a crowd of people over to their house to say goodbye and many very nice things were said about us, particularly Evie's involvement in Drama and of course David's contributions as the Utt Professor.  I was very proud of both of them.

Sunday night I had dinner with Cherise at Boskos in Calistoga (fantastic roasted artichokes) and we sat and talked long after we had finished eating.  She's off on a mission trip to Zambia at the end of January so I'm looking forward to hearing how that goes.

Tuesday I had my 'goodbye lunch' for work - a little early so everyone could be there.  I decided we should go to Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen in St. Helena, since I'd really liked it the one time I'd been before.  I had excellent steak with garlic mashed potatoes and for dessert a lemon flavoured pudding with huckleberries.  I really got it for the berries, so now I can say I've had huckleberries.  Tuesday night we went to Armadillo's in St Helena (our favourite local Mexican restaurant) with Maria.

We don't have anything else scheduled for the next week but we've got several meals with people the weekend we are with my parents, before we head off to Australia.

It's just as well that people are feeding us because I've been so busy I forget to eat (and if you know me at all you know that's just not me - I never forget to eat).

And now for something completely different...

This week's been crazy and I'm tired and I'm going to bed, so here's one of my favourite songs to tide you over till I can post something more substantial.

A Little Known Fact About Me...

I have a thing for cows.  I really do.  I love them.  I WANT one, or even two.  I even have names picked out for them - Agatha and Luella.  Never mind that each cow requires an acre of land and I have one medium sized suburban back yard, I still long for one.  I also want chickens and sheep but this post is about cows.

My grandpa was a cow man.  As well as farming almonds and raising chickens (which actually my grandma did), he used to buy calves and raise them until they were ready to be turned into all the things cows that don't produce milk get turned into.  I wasn't aware of this at the time, I just knew that grandpa had cows and they all had names.  He wasn't sentimental about his cows and was quite ready to exchange them for cash when their time was up - but he named each and every cow he owned.  In the winter I loved finding Grandpa in the barn, which smelled of hay and warm cow, and in the summer the cows would be turned out in to the small field which ran along the side of the property and behind the barn, and was emerald with tender grass.

Grandpa's cows tended to be black or black/white but the next set of cows in my life was the huge white Brahman cattle in Nigeria.  In most of Africa cows were originally the currency of everyday life.  A man's status and wealth  depended on how many cows he had.  The Fulani are beautiful, nomadic people who herded cattle over vast distances and in Nigeria, in the early 70s, their cattle of choice were Brahmans.  Originally from India, their natural resistance to heat, insects and disease, their gentle natures and their outstanding milk (leading to outstandingly big and healthy calves) made them popular in hot climates around the world.  I was very young when we were in Nigeria but a lasting image was the very common one of beautiful, graceful Fulanis herding their beautiful and very distinctive cattle through the village.

My second favourite cows are the shaggy, red, peeking shyly through their bangs at you, Highland Cattle (or coos as we like to call them).  I completely fell in love with these cows when we were in Scotland.  They are the complete opposite of the Brahmans with low compact bodies and long shaggy fur to protect them from the cold wind and rain in the Highlands of Scotland.

Honestly, how can you resist those faces?

My third favourite are the ever popular Jersey cows.  They are the glamour girls of the bovine world.

Doesn't she look like she's been made up for her photo shoot?  But these are not just pretty faces - their milk has one of the highest butterfat content of any cattle breed.

So, now you know far more about cows than you ever thought you should.  But aren't they all gorgeous?

Here is one last picture of the closest I can get to owing a cow at this time in my life.  Meet Francine.

The packet next to her is a starter kit for a herd of cows.  The front says "Genuine California Cow Seeds - Grow Your Own Herd - Herd Starter Kit - Directions on UDDER side" and on the "UDDER side" it says:


"Directions
1. To start herd, follow directions to the letter.
2. Plant the seeds in a warm spot.
3. Plant seeds right side up or cows will grow upside down.
4. Be patient, cows need time to grow.
5. For best results, moo softly while watering."

Corny?  Oh yeah!  But I couldn't resist.

Calistoga Pottery

Yesterday I went to The Calistoga Pottery to buy something to take home to England with me.

I visited once not long after we moved here and kept meaning to go back so I took the chance while I was down in the Valley getting groceries.

It's a tiny little place, packed with treasures and it was really hard to choose what to get.

What I really wanted was something that had been ash glazed, because they use ash from local vineyard trimmings, which I thought would be a great thing to remind me of our time here.  Unfortunately they didn't have a lot of choice of items in the ash glaze but I ended up getting a shallow dish, meant as a wine bottle coaster, which would work perfectly to put oil and vinegar in for dipping bread.





I  bought Evie a lovely cereal bowl and then I was snagged by a butterkeeper.  Butter kept in the refrigerator is too hard but leaving it out risks the butter turning rancid, so the butterkeeper uses cold water to keep it fresh but still soft.  You pack the butter into the lid, put water into the pot and then set the butter filled lid into the water.  When you want to serve it you just pull the lid out and place it upside down on the table.  I love little things like that so I couldn't resist.

Here are the pieces I bought - the butterkeeper has the lid on in this one.

And here it is with the lid off, as you would put it on the table to serve.

Roasted Autumn Vegetables

When the nights start getting colder this is one of my favourite recipes for dinner - it's really easy and you can use whichever vegetables you like or have on hand.  Bear in mind that it can take a long time to cook so leave plenty of time to prepare the vegetables and then roast them.

I used:
salad potatoes, unpeeled (the largest cut in half)
sweet potatoes
parsnips
carrots
beets
leeks
(cut all these into large bite sized pieces)
several whole cloves of garlic
fresh sage, rosemary & thyme
salt

Drizzle olive oil and stir till veges are well coated and then add balsamic vinegar and stir.

Line a roasting pan with foil (to make cleaning up easier) and drizzle a little more olive oil in to coat the bottom, then just dump in the vegetables.  Ideally you should have a pan big enough that you will have a single layer but my pan is on the small size so I had 2-3 layers, which increases the cooking time.  Cover with foil for at least the first half of cooking (esp if more than a single layer of veges) and cook till tender.  Then take the foil off to let the vegetables brown a little.  I cooked mine for 1 1/2 hours on 450F and a further 20 mins on 400.

You could probably cut the time down by cooking it on a higher temperature to soften the veges but make sure you turn it down a bit when you take the foil off.  Personally I like them slow cooked so I make sure I have plenty of time - Sunday nights are perfect.

Stuff, I've got it

I've been sorting through stuff this evening to pack for shipping and I can't believe the amount of junk we've accumulated in the two years we've been here.  Where does it all come from?  We aren't shopaholics (well maybe a little bit, but only a little), we live on a fairly tight budget and we've been aware the whole time that whatever we buy we'll have to either ship or leave here, and yet we seem to have twice as much stuff as we came with.  And that's despite a cull or two in the last year or so.

I've been dividing things up into different sections - clothes (not too many for me, more for David, lots for Evie); books (lots for all of us and much more than we brought); kitchen things and dishes (OK, I admit that's mostly mine and I have acquired some really nice things since we've been here); paperwork (I think it's practicing spontaneous generation!); and misc bits and pieces (way too much of that too - and I'm not sure what some of the things are or where they came from).

I keep trying to simplify my life, cut down on the junk I own and rid myself of unnecessary mental clutter, but it slips back so easily - it seems to be a lifelong battle.  There always seems to be something that I "really, really need" or that I feel will make me happier.  Sometimes I wish I could just retreat to a cabin in the woods and live like a primitive but I have a husband who loves his creature comforts, and to be honest so do I, so I have to reevaluate my life on occasion (moving is an excellent time to do this) and decide what in my life is really important.  I sometimes wonder how I would feel if our house were to burn down or be catastrophically flooded but there really is nothing I own that I can't live without (they say three moves are as good as a burn).  There are a few things like family photos or items with sentimental value that I would feel bad about losing, but as long as I know my husband and daughter (or any assorted pets we might have) are safe and happy, there is no object more important to me than that.

That is not to say that I'm not going to continue sorting through our stuff, cause I'm not ready to do without everything just yet.  I am trying to be brutal though and follow William Morris' advice to have nothing in our homes that is not either beautiful or useful.

Wish me luck!

The Highwayman Part 2

Deborah sent me a link to Loreena McKennitt's version of The Highwayman, which is absolutely gorgeous.  Thanks so much Deb!

The Highwayman

It's probably cheating but I'm feeling uninspired tonight so I'm sharing an old favourite.

The Highwayman
PART ONE
I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
IV
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.
PART TWO
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.
II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .
VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
* * * * * *
X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)

I need a vacation!

Whew, I'm just squeaking in under the wire here to get this post in today. After running around (not quite like a headless chicken) all morning, working this afternoon and a 2 1/2 hour drive we are finally at my parents' for Thanksgiving. This is an especially poignant holiday because it is the last major event we will have with my family before we go back to England. We are spending Christmas and New Year with David's family in Australia (which is a whole other story). We are having a crowd this year with us (me, David & Evie), Mom & Dad, Lauren and his family (Fin, Ally, Madie & Cedric), Fin's parents, Susan & Shupinar, and Fin's brother Ray and his family (Leah, Yuske, and The Bump). Finally, as the cherry on top, my Aunt Pat.

We will be having the traditional turkey for the carnivores, as well as sweet potatoes, cranberry relish and stuffing (my contribution, keep your fingers crossed as it's my first time ever to make it). Lauren will be making his traditional (and awesome) mashed potatoes. Mom will be making my Grandma Laura's bread rolls (with butter and honey they are better than any dessert). For the vegetarians and vegans among us we are having my Grandma Gerry's walnut patties (I would choose them over turkey any day, and I Really like turkey) and Evie and I have decided we are going to try to make vegan Turducken. For those of you unfamiliar with this animal it is a turkey, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken. Evie and I are going to take mock duck and stuff it into the little fake chickens my mom has (seriously, they are totally vegan but are shaped like little tiny chickens - think Cornish game hens - they are kind of creepy actually), and then wrap it up in Tofurky. What do you think?

I'm buying apple and pumpkin pies from Costco. I feel slightly guilty about that but I AM making stuffing from scratch!

The Good Life

One of the reasons I started this blog was to report on what I was doing in the SCA and, although I've done nothing while I've been in the US, I will be going back to it when I get back to England. But I've realised that it's more than just sewing costumes.

I have always been fascinated with the way people lived their lives before industrialisation, before mass produced consumer goods and labor saving devices. I started reading the Little House books when I was six and re-reading them recently I realised that even more than the story what I really loved were the descriptions of the way they lived their lives, how different how they did things were from today. I love descriptions of the Home Front during WWII, with their Victory gardens and their mend and make do mentality.

I called my blog "The View from the Manor" because I love the idea of medieval manors, the way they produced almost everything they needed from their own land - wood from woodland; stone from quarries; meat from cows, sheep, chicken, ducks, geese, pigeons, rabbits, wild game living in the woodland; eggs from the poultry; fish from ponds, rivers, creeks; wool from the sheep; milk, cream and cheese from the cows. They often had their own smithies, dairies, carpenters. They wove cloth from the wool produced by their sheep and made their own clothes, tanned leather from their cows and furs from rabbits and wild game. They grew fruit in orchards, produce in kitchen gardens, as well as both culinary and medicinal herbs; wheat, barley, oats and other grains in the fields. Their own hives produced bees to pollinate their plants, as well as make honey and wax to be made into candles and ointments.

This is what I want - my own manor. I would love to be self-sufficient, to wear clothes which I wove from wool produced from my own sheep. To eat honey and make candles from my own bees. To learn to make cheese from my own cow's milk. To grow heirloom fruit and vegetables which not only taste better but preserve old varieties which are in danger of extinction. To know where my food came from, and limit my environmental impact. I've recently been reading about how much fossil fuel it takes to grow, harvest, package, ship and store most food and I feel I need to make an effort to limit this for myself and my family.

OK, I know I don't have my own manor, just a suburban back yard, but it's a place to start, and I can always dream about owning a few acres in the country.

I know it would be a lot of work but I want the satisfaction of knowing that I have provided for myself and my family - not just by working in an office and bringing in a paycheck, but by spending time, and sweat, and care directly on what we will be using. I think that, when I look at myself in the mirror at night, I'll like the person I see a lot better.

Lettin' Our Hair Down

I got in too late to post last night. I met up for dinner at Applebees in Manteca with Robin and Debbie who I haven't seen since high school and we ate and chatted for 4 1/2 hours! We were hoping Julie, Ernie and Candi would show up but they couldn't make it, but the three of us had a fabulous time catching up on each other's lives over the last 20 years and admitting that we couldn't believe it had been so long and that we were all 40! They are all going to try to get together every three months or so and I'll let them know when I'm in California so we can meet up again. It's making it harder to go back to England where most of our friends have left. We will have to make a real effort to see the ones we still have there more often.

Pearlies

Today's post is going to be short - Evie had all her wisdom teeth out this morning and is in a great deal of pain tonight. I was lucky I guess and never had any problem with mine but David had his out in his mid-20s. We've stocked up on juice, chocolate soy milk, soy yogurt, jello and juice bars but at the moment it hurts her to swallow anything so she's holed up in bed with ice on her jaw. Poor baby, even the Vicodin isn't really helping.

Better late than never

I've just now, on the 18th, discovered that November is National Blog Posting Month and we are supposed to be blogging every day this month. In my typical way I'm half a step behind everyone else but I'll try to post every day for the rest of the month and hopefully this will inspire me to post more than once a year.

If there's anyone left who is keeping track I'll update you for the year:

June - got my hair cut SHORT, spent two weeks with David in DC.

July - new nephew, Cedric Liam, born on the 7th

August - canned peaches, visited Chattanooga and Southern (loved Chat, decided Southern wasn't for us)

September - bipolar crisis with Evie

October - went to Vegas for the first time for David's 4oth (WEIRD place!)

November - trying to get ourselves organised for the move back to England.

So, that's my life up to date.

Fan Girling

I got the chance to see one of my favourite authors last night, but it was an event not without its traumas. Laurie R King, author of the Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes books, was at the San Francisco Public Library at 6.30pm, talking with Les Klinger, a Holmes expert. I got off work early, and left at 4.00, naively thinking that 2 1/2 hours was long enough to allow for what should be a 1 1/2 hour drive, even at rush hour. Unfortunately I was NOT driving against traffic, as I assumed I would be, and didn't get into SF until 6.30. Then, I got to the library to find that some other major event was taking place nearby and there was nowhere to park! Finally, by the time I'd found a parking garage and got into the library it was just before 7.00 and I was so flustered I'd left the book I wanted to get signed in the car. ARGGG! Fortunately I found a seat right away and enjoyed immensely the last half hour of the program. Both participants are intelligent, witty and very entertaining speakers. Afterwards Mrs King very kindly offered to send me a signed bookplate to put in the book I had left in the car, so it was not a total loss. I stopped for a consolation pizza on the way home and swore that if I ever have to attend a mid-week, evening event, I will just take the whole afternoon off.