. . . is in our garden here.
It is the very epitome of everything a rose strives to be. This particular breed is a Whimsical Flibbersnoot. They grow best if watered with the joyful tears of mosquito larvae shed when their mother comes home having survived unsquashed.
I hope everyone’s having a nice July and enjoying all this rather fantastic sunshine. I myself just spent an hour and a half lying in the sun finishing reading a novel called The Philosopher’s Flight. More on that later.
I’m now 28, which so far has been going well. Jalapeño, the kids, and Realism have been in Corfu for the last two weeks, on holiday. They’ve been mainly avoiding the beach (because they’re crazy) learning to swim if they didn’t know already, attaining small injuries, reading, and sampling the local restaurants.
Things that have happened here:
I got a bass of my own.
It’s secondhand but in good shape. Needs new strings and probably to have the pickup guard taken off. It has a very different (but good) sound from the Rickenbacker, as one would expect. I’m still playing Ricky Baker though. I’m spoiled. Jalapeño got very excited about the whole thing and for my pre-birthday birthday (because they left on the 6th and my b-day was the 9th) got me that lovely leather bass strap, and this amp:
It sounds great and it has a built in tuner! The Owedazzler is jellin’.
I got to help celebrate Renaissance’s birthday as well. There was a small party at Brendan’s of Canonmills which was great fun and I met lots of lovely people including a journalist and fellow fiction writer. We shall call her Wimbledon because that occurred shortly after. Ellipsoid and I have decided we ought to read The Wealth of Nations and discuss. So far, I haven’t started . . .
Then on my actual birthday, Storm the Palace had a gig at the Leith Depot as part of the Save Leith Walk movement. We had a number of excellent guest stars and some great supporting acts, and we debuted two new songs by Strigine. One about sea animals and existential crisis (which is in 5/4 and 6/8) and one about a cheese plant name Clive and existential crisis. Also, Mom and Dad opened up a tab for me from the States which was amazing. We ended the night with a round of shots. Strigine gave me some great earrings and a thing of blue hair dye . . . to be continued.
Here is some graffiti from the Leith Depot WC.
Mom and Dad also sent me flowers and a package of Charleston Chews. I tried sharing some with Vim at work and she was politely not a fan. It’s a very particular thing, the taste for a Chew.
There’s also been lots of work of course. There have been many angry dragons calling in lately due to the fact that we’re still having trouble with sun-lulled pegasii sometimes failing to complete their deliveries or arriving very, very late. Some of them seem to be actually leaving their parcels in sheds and then just wandering off following nymphs into the hills. This has been especially bad in the Netherlands.
There’s also a continuing issue where the golems who process returns at the warehouse keep attaining self-actualization and simply walking off to meditate or read. This means dragons keep calling, extremely angry because they haven’t been refunded for jewels and various treasure they sent back over a month ago. Many have actually had to be passed through to the elves the next level up from us humans. The elves are somewhat better equipped to handle very angry dragons.
Sometimes they get escalated to the elves simply because their gnome helpers placed an order using the their name instead of the dragon’s and one cannot legally help out the dragon. When this happens even the elves get rather annoyed and they have to go brush their hair until they calm down. The good thing about elf ears though is that they cannot get singed down the phone line, unlike the ears of yours truly.
I went to the anti-Trump protest on Saturday.
It was a spur of the moment decision and I wandered into the march at North Bridge. This picture was taken way before even half the protesters arrived at The Meadows. I heard someone say 50,000 people turned out. As you can see, the blimp from London made it up. Apparently it was sent on an overnight train. Now there are plans to get it across the Atlantic for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.
My favourite protester was a really cute puppy with a sign around its neck that said “Trump is a bitch.” Today at my bass lesson Radio showed me a picture he took of a bunch of golden retrievers who had signs which read, ‘Bitches against Trump.”
I’m going to have to pause in this narrative to go play D&D with some workmates. A series of one off games has been started. Today the characters are all pre-created. It will be a relatively short game with no combat and extensive role-playing.
I’m playing a reggae musician from Chelsea. We are a band called The Habadashers and we have between us a set of bongos, having had to sell all our other instruments so we could eat. We are all frontmen/women and now have an impending gig.
How much do I know about reggae or Chelsea? Zilch. My name is Austin Prestige.
D&D was excellent. We actually made it to the gig. Only one of us almost died on the way. We talked to asses (literally chatted with donkeys) fought guardsman, exchanged taunts with a rival band made of Tritons, and actually created and sang a song for the final performance. Hopefully it will never be revealed to the world of real humans.
The rest of this post is written under the influence of wine.
And now, back in time again.
This past Saturday Sangaree came around for curry, wine, and films. It was great to catch up (it’d been ages). We watched The Death of Stalin, which I had only seen some of due to falling asleep when I saw it in the cinema (through no fault of the film, I was just really tired that day). It is very funny. Highly recommend if you enjoy dark, caustic humor. Then we watched the remake of Jumanji because we’d both heard good things about it and were curious. Would definitely recommend if you’re looking for a light laugh.
Sunday was Book Hunt Day. It was my personal experiment and way of stretching out my birthday. Now that I know it works doubtless a number of my friends will be tricked/manipulated/blackmailed into participating in this in other forms.
Basically, I had two pals, Phoenicia (aka. Ethel) and Janus, give me a list of their top five interests, and I made a list of mine as well. Then we all met up at a much beloved secondhand bookshop in the Grassmarket, Armchair Books, and we all had to find the other two a book each which involved one of their interests, and one thing you yourself wanted them to learn more about, or which you thought might interest them.
Then we went to the Hanging Bat to discuss, debate, and drink nice beer.
I actually have ended up with a lot of books this month. This is sign of excellent people in my life.
Obviously, not all of these are from the book hunt. So, left to right, top to bottom.
The Philosopher’s Flight is in fact the book I got Jalapeño for our anniversary as tradition demands. It’s got great world building/alternate history in it and flips the usual gender roles in multiple ways. Definitely recommend if you’re looking for a refreshing fantasy.
The Good Bohemian I accidentally bought when I passed by Lighthouse Books whilst in the anti-Trump march. See, I’d followed them on twitter for a wee while and I was delighted to finally locate them in the physical world. They have a bookshop dog named Artemis. I didn’t take picture of Artemis because she was busy Doing Dog Things like Looking Out the Window and Contemplating Life While Whining because she may or may not have wanted to go out. She ended up going out with the assistance of the very lovely people who run the bookshop. She’s tall and white and fluffy and wonderful.
Anyway, the book is a collection of the letters of Ida John. I know nothing about her. After I bought the book I did a quick read of her Wikipedia page. It looks like her life is the very thing I most fear for female artists. Should be interesting reading.
Fireworks is a bonus buy which Phoenicia gave me after the Book Hunt because I’ve only read one Angela Carter short story in my entire life and Phoenicia is (rightfully) concerned about furthering my education in that regard.
The Left Hand of Darkness is a book I’ve wanted to read for almost decades now and still haven’t. Strigine gave it to me for my birthday and I’m delighted to finally read it. It is next up. It’s from Golden Hare Books and had awesome wrapping paper with golden hares on it.
The Name of the Rose was Janus’*choice for me in the book hunt. I’m 100% intrigued as I’ve heard a lot about it and I just read another book which Umberto Eco greatly praised but which was entirely different from The Name of the Rose so far as I can tell. I’m quite psyched about sinking my teeth into it.
The Monk was Phoenicia’s choice for me. It’s apparently depraved and mental. Very intriguing. Also, it is small and will travel well.
The Spinning Blowfish, the band my pal is in which was shut down by the police after 6 years of playing in the same place because one person said they were too loud, had their silent protest which went amazingly well. I was so impressed by the amount of energy summoned up by them and the crowd. The council wouldn’t know what to do if their members had a quarter the amount of passion. Fingers crossed for the future.
I also had dinner with Phoenicia and Stalwart this week which featured delicious halloumi burgers and good talk, plus Bunbun the rabbit nudging my calves for attention and slipping about on the floor whilst stretching.
Here is a picture of Inverleith Park looking pretty.
Here are some pictures of Dangerous Beans, because it’s been a while and she’s been photogenic.
Last night I met up with Strigine for drinks and got to meet (a surprise) her soon-to-be-adopted Fluffpooms (dogs). Their names are Lily and Ted and I took photos but they don’t do them justice so I’ll wait until I have better ones. They are a major hit everywhere they go.
Meanwhile, over the pond, it’s reunion season. The family from Dad’s side is gathering, gathering, and will soon descend on an old farm in New Hampshire. Cousin Krakow, having obtained her very competitive and highly sought job in Japan, has been spotted in Vermontland enjoying a tour of the northeast US amongst family and friends before returning to Japan to take up the mantle of teacher.
In Mongolia, Baby Skidbear has been taming toy horses and trying on a most charming deel which she will grow into. The Hannimal has been writing about wombats and doing final Thesibeast battles, small skirmishes one might say.
And that brings us to the end of this, rather epic, post. Please forgive the typos. It’s now midnight. The cat is in, I’ve been a reggae musician from Chelsea for much of the evening, and there is still washing up to do.
Take care, space cowboys.
*I’m going with apostrophe no second S here because Janus is the name of a Roman god and generally it seems one doesn’t put the second S on classical Greek/Biblical names so why not the same rule for ancient Roman ones? Janus himself may disagree, (the person, not the god) but only because we disagree about most things.