igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)
The first really hot day we've had this spring, and I finally got round to emptying the trunks up in the loft, dragging everything out onto the grass for a good airing, and conducting the great biannual changeover from winter to summer wardrobe. Off with the velvet jackets and on with the linen; goodbye to the eiderdown; away with the thermal underwear (save for one complete set of longsleeved vest and longjohns, plus one of the Uniqlo 'heat-tech' sleeveless vests; summer in England is never guaranteed to be all hot all the time).

I wonder if this is the latest I've ever done it? I had my hot-water-bottle out earlier on this week...
igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)
Frost bloomed in my bedroom overnight. Caught by the morning sunlight:

igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)
Ice on the inside of the windows for the first time this year...
igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)
It's that time of year again -- the time when the winter jackets come out of the suitcase (and the linen ones and the short-sleeves go back in), the indoors temperature starts down towards fifty degrees and we start to play the "how long can we do without central heating" game. So far I've managed all day with only a jerkin over a lambswool jumper, but my arms and toes were definitely starting to feel cold... at the moment I'm cheating, sitting in a room where somebody else surrendered and ran a heater earlier on!

But I think I'll need bedsocks again tonight; it's always a bad sign when you wake up in the morning and your toes are still chilly.



Finally finished off Sookie Stackhouse: I've read "Dead Until Dark", "Living Dead in Dallas" and "Club Dead", plus the 'teaser chapters' for "Dead to the World", and I can say with all honesty that my main feeling is one of relief at having made it to the end -- I have no particular desire to find out the rest of what happens in "Dead to the World" (especially if it starts with Vampire Eric).

I don't know what is wrong with these books, but they make about as much impression on me as "Twilight"; in fact, in all honesty I think probably less. Very lightweight. I still think Vampire Elvis is the best bit -- judging by his recurring appearances, I'd guess I wasn't the only one!
igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)
This is the first morning for several days that there hasn't been ice on the inside of my bedroom windows... although I'm still having to mop up the condensation before it pools on the windowsill. (I keep an old sock on the radiator for the purpose.)

There was a nasty ripping noise from inside the sleeve of my favourite jacket as I pulled it on this morning. Closer inspection revealed that not only had the lining just torn through, but it was heavily worn in a number of other places as well. I spent half an hour painstakingly sewing up the long rip I'd just inflicted, plus the place where the seam of the lining had gone, but there are an awful lot of others just waiting to tear.

Moral: even velvet jackets don't last for ever (the collar is starting to look a bit greasy, as well -- despite constant care to keep it outside my shirt collar).

Am wearing the other jacket, as it was a bit cold to sit around in shirt-sleeves while doing emergency repairs.




Did another good whack at the typing up of Sonnie Hale notes last night, having now nearly completed one entire notebook (out of thirteen!) Thanks to my bulk purchase I am of course still about five bars of soap in debt, as it were; but I'm used to functioning on guilt, anyhow. (I really feel quite lost on the rare occasions when I cast around and discover that there actually isn't anything that I ought to be doing in preference to my current activity!)
igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)

What larks! What jinks! What fun and games!

Snow over the South of England, and the whole world comes to a halt -- adults out playing in the parks, London mired to its hubcaps, drifts in Kent. No trains, no schools, no work.

The local park was full of ten-foot snowmen like an invasion from Phobos... plus one Easter Island head from a particularly artistic contributor. I put on two of everything (and three pairs of socks, as I couldn't find any Wellingtons small enough to fit) and spent an hour or two tramping round with a steady swing, making the deliveries I'd so foolishly put off the day before; cycling, alas, was out of the question. Hard work, but good exercise, like trotting racehorses over sand... By the time I came back, the whole front of my overcoat was plastered with a shell of snow, as was my scarf -- the snow on my hat, worryingly, had melted. Clearly I need some better 'loft insulation'; perhaps I should postpone that haircut after all!

I am, in any case, feeling remarkably pleased with myself. I have successfully mended a cracked wire in a moulded-on plug, and got the plug casing back on afterwards. I have contributed an entire page to Wikipedia -- at any rate, it's still there 24 hours later, so presumably isn't about to be reverted as unsuitable. And I've discovered that I'm apparently not the only person who actually liked Sonnie Hale, which is always reassuring.

Sonnie Hale

I've been doing a good deal of research into Sonnie Hale in the last couple of weeks, and have vaguely-formed plans to turn some of what I've written into a web page; I might post something here too perhaps...

igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Horizon)
What a beastly day. It started off just misty, and then got colder and colder and wetter and wetter and windier and windier until it was blowing the best part of a storm. And then I had to go out in it.

I was sitting in front of a warm fire, feeling comfortably full of roast dinner, when I remembered that I had been invited to a colleague's seventieth birthday party that afternoon; and so I had very reluctantly to get up and go off to the jollifications instead of staying in and reading a nice book. Which tells you something about my relative priorities where entertainment is concerned! I managed to get lost on the way, too (due to holding my umbrella so low against the gusts that I missed the relevant signpost) and arrived with wet feet, a chilled nose and a considerable sense of annoyance.

Still, it wasn't so bad. The gentlemen stood in one corner and discussed (or, as the ladies like to say, pontificated about) computers, cars, cryptology and canal-boats, while their other halves got on with whatever it is that they do in groups; and to my relief I found that I had come late enough to miss the speeches. (I had also missed the food, but due to the aforesaid roast dinner I wasn't exactly worried about that...)

And then all the way home again to the embers of a fire, Maria Callas on the record-player (Rigoletto) and the chance to get something useful done; namely finishing off the stitching of a pair of shoes.

No, I'm not a cobbler, unfortunately. I make up shoe kits; I've done quite a few over the years, not always for myself. In fact, mostly not for myself, since I haven't had a new pair of Simple Way shoes for a long time.

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