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igenlodeI have typed up the current edit of the new fic (now entitled "A Sword Outwears Its Sheath" after I'd subconsciously echoed bits of Byron in the text) at about 3,500 words. But having fixed the geopolitics I now really ought to fix the weather -- being reminded by d'Artagnan's complaints about the English weather in "Twenty Years After" that "je suis d’un pays où il n’y a pas un nuage au ciel", while Rousillon lies even further south than Gascony ;-p
I was going by canon, where the weather at the time is described as being cold; however, by the time Athos has travelled a further hundred leagues or so towards the border and is approaching the Pyrenees, "stinging gusts of autumn rain" in October are probably highly unlikely :-(
It's the sort of detail that annoys me enormously when I realise that an author clearly has no idea about the supposed setting, so I suppose I had better fix it in case any Occitans ever actually read the fic -- or, more likely, people who visit the area for sun-soaked holidays...
Very unexpectedly, the basil has suddenly germinated, after I had given up on it. I also have a single California poppy seedling in one of the egg-box compartments where I had sown the seed, although I'm not convinced that it isn't just another random seedling like those springing up everywhere else! Last year's overwintered white California poppy plant, however, has duly produced cream-coloured flowers again. I have transplanted a couple more of the random self-sown seedlings back into this tray to replace some of the older plants that had died in that corner.
I also transplanted a random rocket seedling out of the chilli pot, where it was rapidly overtopping the still entirely puny chillies, and likewise moved some mesembryanthemums.
No sign of anything but a vigorous crop of chickweed (and a mesembryanthemum) in the pot where I sowed the two pink Swan River daisy seeds, so those weren't viable or didn't survive. There is a healthy batch of the blue ones, however (which really need potting on). Oddly enough I think there may be some self-sown Swan River daisy seedlings at the base of the smaller pot of pink Linaria, though goodness knows how they got there...
I think the coreopsis has just failed entirely, I'm afraid. A pity, because it was colourful, if not native.
I was going by canon, where the weather at the time is described as being cold; however, by the time Athos has travelled a further hundred leagues or so towards the border and is approaching the Pyrenees, "stinging gusts of autumn rain" in October are probably highly unlikely :-(
It's the sort of detail that annoys me enormously when I realise that an author clearly has no idea about the supposed setting, so I suppose I had better fix it in case any Occitans ever actually read the fic -- or, more likely, people who visit the area for sun-soaked holidays...
Very unexpectedly, the basil has suddenly germinated, after I had given up on it. I also have a single California poppy seedling in one of the egg-box compartments where I had sown the seed, although I'm not convinced that it isn't just another random seedling like those springing up everywhere else! Last year's overwintered white California poppy plant, however, has duly produced cream-coloured flowers again. I have transplanted a couple more of the random self-sown seedlings back into this tray to replace some of the older plants that had died in that corner.
I also transplanted a random rocket seedling out of the chilli pot, where it was rapidly overtopping the still entirely puny chillies, and likewise moved some mesembryanthemums.
No sign of anything but a vigorous crop of chickweed (and a mesembryanthemum) in the pot where I sowed the two pink Swan River daisy seeds, so those weren't viable or didn't survive. There is a healthy batch of the blue ones, however (which really need potting on). Oddly enough I think there may be some self-sown Swan River daisy seedlings at the base of the smaller pot of pink Linaria, though goodness knows how they got there...
I think the coreopsis has just failed entirely, I'm afraid. A pity, because it was colourful, if not native.