I joined a thing!
I joined a local art society. Been meaning to do it since I moved here. I was going to describe it as prestigious, but it isn’t that at all. It’s…venerable. It’s an amateur society set up fifty years ago to complement the local professional society.
You don’t apply to join the professional society. If they want you, they’ll let you know.
In addition to monthly lectures of various kinds, the real appeal is the annual show. And the appeal of the annual show is to kick me in the ass and make me paint some shit.
Behold, my ancient pile of watercolor tubes! (Here it is in color, because honestly that looks pretty cool).
Now I just have to paint something.
February 16, 2017 — 10:42 pm
Comments: 29
A how much of what now?
Are we back now? Excellent. Thank you for indulging me. For posterity’s sake, the anniversary header image can be found here.
And now back to your regularly scheduled weaselin’.
The stuff in the picture is similar unto the stuff we burn in the stove for heat. It’s like charcoal briquettes. It comes in lots of different flavors and I don’t understand it very well, but if you aren’t extremely careful, Onkle B will tell you all about it.
We buy it by the ton, it arrives in 40 or so 25-kilo bags wrapped up on a wooden pallet. We move the car, the delivery driver uses one of those handcart dealies to push it down to the end of the drive, and there we are — enough or nearly enough for the average heating season. We’ve done this for years.
Only, today’s guy was a stroppy bastard and decided he couldn’t be bothered. He winched it off the truck and left the whole flipping thing at the curb, blocking the end of the drive. Blocking us out and ripe for the stealing. We had no choice but to unwrap it all and carry it to the end of the drive ourselfs, bag at a time.
A TON of coal.
Lest you think that was unchivalrous of Onkle B, he did the heavy part. He lifted the bags onto a handtruck and I only had to wheel them down and tip them off. I wouldn’t let him do the whole thing himself.
A TON of COAL.
February 15, 2017 — 8:47 pm
Comments: 30
HAPPY WEASEL-DEC-AVERSARY!!
W00t!
If I did that right, you had a moment of technicolor mustelidity that click-linked to this individual post. Last time I hijacked my own front page, though, the place was a mess until I put it all back where it used to be. (April Fool’s Day, 2011. FYI).
I *will* have my little joke.
Oh, don’t worry. The blog’s still there. I’m not taking this opportunity to retire or anything like that. I’ll put everything back directly. I’d be lost without you, my imaginary internet friends.
I’ll entertain suggestions, though. If you’d like the occasional guest post or photo essay or something.
I was going to do a redesign, but I hate it when my sites change without warning. Also, lazy. I do think I’d like to freshen things up. Clean up the sidebars (are blogrolls any use any more?). Maybe tweak the comment section. Find a rating plugin that works.
Anyway — thanks for a decade of larfs! Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve made a trans-Atlantic move without you.
p.s. Oh, did I forget to mention? Today is also my eighth wedding anniversary. Tonight, I shall drink champagne and eat steak. And leave this post up another day. *waves*
February 13, 2017 — 9:28 pm
Comments: 57
Coven meeting
Had a late thang with my historical society tonight. We’re just in.
My bosses are old. You know my employers value me for my relative youth and strength. I am, like, historical society muscle. True story. And they think Onkle B is adorable.
These aren’t my old ladies, though. From what I gather, this is a group of Norfolk biddies in their traditional garb.
There must have been one rotten horrible old Norfolk hag whose behavior made this the international symbol for witches.
Don’t forget! Back here tomorrow, 6WBT. Dead Pool Round 95!
February 9, 2017 — 10:27 pm
Comments: 13
Adorable cartoon weasel
Okay, maybe not so adorable. This is a 3D model I made ages ago, when I first got started with Blender. I posted about it at the time. I guess. I hadn’t remembered.
Until somebody wrote and asked if he could have it for something. Of course he could.
And. Oh. My. God. IT’S SO FUZZY!
February 8, 2017 — 9:14 pm
Comments: 15
Sneaky like I like ’em
Ric Fan didn’t even notice, and I sure didn’t. It took ExpressoBold to point it out.
So, you know what that means. Back here Friday, 6WBT. Dead Pool Round 95.
And the answer is: iceberg lettuce was £1.19 at Aldi today, an increase of 9p over last week.
There were plenty. I bought one.
The sandwich is back, baby.
February 7, 2017 — 9:50 pm
Comments: 16
Think of the lettuces!
Whenever I hear about the severe vegetable shortage, I wonder — who the hell wants to eat severe vegetables? But, yeah, you’ve probably read that we’re having Vegetable Issues.
The story is, we in the North are dependent on growers in the South if we want Summer veg in Winter. England relies mostly on the Spanish for things like peppers and spinach that won’t be available from local growers for months. And Spain has had a shit Winter. Much of their February crop was rained out.
How serious? Eh. Two weeks ago, I paid £.45 for a head of iceberg lettuce at Aldi. Last week, the same store was asking £1.10. They had plenty, though.
Frankly, I think 45p is super cheap for a head of lettuce, anyway. I remember in college there was a spike in lettuce prices and a head climbed over $1. We were horrified. We seamlessly switched our salads to cabbage and felt quite pleased with ourselves…until a few days went by and the gastric consequences of a diet rich in cabbage began to present itself.
God, we were stupid.
The oldies I work for aren’t impressed. Summer vegetables in Winter are a danged newfangled idea, like digital whotsits and the gramaphonium. We have plenty of local veg, and all the better for not coming from the Continent.
So, don’t worry. We aren’t facing scurvy any time soon.
p.s. No, I didn’t buy the lettuce. We’ll do our weekly shop tomorrow and I’ll tell you what it’s up to now.
February 6, 2017 — 8:02 pm
Comments: 23
If it’s not one cat, it’s another
Jack didn’t come home last night. This is a big deal because, tomcat though he is, he never disappears for more than a couple of hours.
Mr and Mrs Numpty here were out at Stupid O’ Clock in the morning with flashlights yelling “heeeeeere kittykittykitty” into the hedges and under cars. I went to work feeling like death warmed over. We’ve had to call the neighbors to apologize today, in case anyone caught the performance.
He turned up this morning unsteady on his feet, with junk in his fur and a limp. We reckon he fell out of a tree or something. He’s slept all day. No blood on him and nothing seems broken, but he is definitely dazed and shocky. We’re going to watch him for twenty four hours before we decide on the vet.
I am Tired. And I would Like A Drink Now. Have a good weekend, everyone, and look out for your assorted fuzzbutts and furbags!
February 3, 2017 — 9:40 pm
Comments: 25
Talk to the paw
I got nothing going on tonight, so I’ll give you an update on the other cat. I don’t post about Charlotte much — former feral, flew with me from Rhode Island — but she’s still very much with us.
She’ll turn fifteen this May and we had a bit of a scare this week. She had a hard kittenhood and has always been a bit round-belly-boney-butt, but she seemed particularly bloated lately. Then she went off her feed on Chicken Night, which is unheard of, greedy beast.
We haven’t taken her in in years (she hates it so very much), but we had the vet look her over. He squeezed her like a stress toy, didn’t find anything and suggested an ultrasound. Said it would run about £70 and rule out most things. So, okay.
Turns out, nothing much wrong with her. A little kitty osteoporosis, maybe some parathyroid trouble. Nothing out of the ordinary for an old gal. Phew.
Oh, and that £70 didn’t include prep, anesthesia, taxes…eh. You get the picture. What happened to the good old country vet who gave kitty a shot of broad-spectrum antibiotic and told you to keep her quiet for a few days?
February 2, 2017 — 10:16 pm
Comments: 13
A loaf of bread, a carton of milk…
A shopping list has turned up under the floorboards of Knole, an ancient and huge country house in Kent. We’ve never been, but it’s just in reach of a day trip and has been on our list since forever.
The note is dated 1633 and appears to have fallen out of a trunk in the attic and worked its way down into the woodwork. It reads:
Mr Bilby, I pray p[ro]vide to be sent too morrow in ye Cart some Greenfish, The Lights from my Lady Cranfeild[es] Cham[ber] 2 dozen of Pewter spoon[es]: one greate fireshovell for ye nursery; and ye o[t]hers which were sent to be exchanged for some of a better fashion, a new frying pan together with a note of ye prises of such Commoditie for ye rest.
Your loving friend
Robert Draper
Octobre 1633
Copthall
Wikipedia tells me Greenfish is used as the common name of several unrelated groups of fish: Ascension wrasse, Bluefish, Murray cod, Pollock, St. Helena wrasse. Though all of those were discovered after 1633, so most likely it’s this one: “Greenfish” was also formerly used to refer to green cod, fresh or freshly-salted Atlantic cod.
I first saw this story at The Smithsonian‘s FaceBook, which, sadly, spends too much time these days explaining to us important historic facts like the Statue of Liberty is actually a Muslim woman. I used to love that place.
More on this from the Mail and the National Trust.
They’ve been working on a multi-million pound renovation at Knole for some years now. I posted in 2014 about the witch marks found there by workmen.
OH! And a very happy Imbolg to you! Or St Brigid’s Day, if you prefer. Or even Candlemas. In theory, it means the turning toward Spring. In practice — effing February.
February 1, 2017 — 9:30 pm
Comments: 13