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December 31, 2008 found wonderdread, Geoff Ryman and me trundling around Minster Lovell Hall in the Cotswolds, thanks to Geoff.

The ruins date back to the 15th Century. The first photo above was my first sight of them.

It was a blistering cold morning; the first frost I've encountered since coming to the U.K. at the beginning of December. It was the kind of frost that makes the outdoors look candied. I kept wanting to pop leaves into my mouth and crunch on them.

...I give you Marmite-flavoured potato chips. Oog. They tasted as though they'd been dusted with crumbled chicken bouillon cubes. The package is being presented here in the hands of the doughty Geoff Ryman, my partner in this particular culinary adventure. And yes, we ate them all, every one.

Happy New Year! I'm at 81,744 words in Blackheart Man. Some of them, in the rough:

The dame looked me up and down. The deeper she frowned, the faster she waved her fan. "But I know you."

I moved out of range of the dame's fan.

The Spoonflower fabric design website -- still in Beta -- has posted one of my fabric designs in this week's competition! (Every week they choose four of their members' designs for people to vote on. The one that wins the vote is available for sale from Spoonflower in the week following.) This week's four designs are here, and if you're so minded, you can vote for the one you like the best. It's so cool to see what mine looks like printed up! I have a number of designs up on Spoonflower, but I have yet to order swatches of them to see what they look like as fabric. The one that the Spoonflower folks chose is something I adapted from a Victorian era trade card, one of the few images of black people on Victorian trade cards that don't make me want to go postal:

I just assembled everything I have of novel-in-progress Once -- about 2,500 words -- into yWriter. Now to research Toronto plays of the era & a stolen mummy.

My 48th birthday was a few days ago. Wonderdread and I are in London, U.K. He and the delightful Ms. Devi (pictured on the right; photo by wonderdread) took me to Carluccio's, where they treated me to Florentine hot chocolate -- thick as a melted chocolate bar, milk free, served hot in an espresso cup -- and two desserts; tiramisu and a lemon tart. They were delicious. Thank you, my lovelies!

My website comment spam wants me to read about Proliferating Letitia and Raccoon Instructional! Bosoms. It
clearly knows how to tempt me.

The starlings had left the house-top
and were in two rows on the electricity wires close by the transformer. Beyond the starlings the two wires ran down the hill and disappeared into the mist. All day the air had been still and
set, as if the dale had been put in a box away from the north-west wind of autumn. Dusk was coming early today. Now, at half past four, the air was full of damp rising, hanging a roke against the sun and putting it away red.

- William Mayne, The Changeling, 1961

Man, that is writing poopa. I have no idea what that last phrase means, but I get so much from the context and so much joy from the words themselves that I almost don't care. Mayne is the author of one of my favourite children's novels, Underground Alley (for the record, I completely disagree with this reviewer's assessment of how Mayne dealt with the relationship between Patty and her stepmother. I think he handles it brilliantly). In the course of doing this blog post, I discovered that he's also been banned for life from having access to children.

Here's an interview he gave in 1989.

I gather I have young Noah to thank for this handsome felt stuffed frog from Denman Island, B.C. Thank you, Noah! It's a great gift, for so many reasons:

wonderdread, aka "My Keyboard is My Baseline."

Taken outside Camden Market at 3:50 in the afternoon. Yes, it really was that dark that early. No snowstorms, though!