kaberett: Trans symbol with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
kaberett ([personal profile] kaberett) wrote2025-07-09 11:58 pm

today I have mostly been at the plot

I had a first-thing physio appointment, so I dragged myself over to the hospital for that and then nestled down in my Surrounded By Green and... mostly read Murderbot, with occasional fruit harvest and weeding.

(I have also had lots of opportunities to practise self-compassion, both in re the number of things I did not manage to harvest before they went over and in terms of having realised within the last half hour or so that one of my pens has vanished from all of the bags it was nominally in; I hope that if I go and poke around the table etc tomorrow it will rematerialise...)

the cosmolinguist ([personal profile] cosmolinguist) wrote2025-07-09 10:16 pm

Sayings

The first thing I heard anyone say when I got to Exeter -- anyone who wasn't a staff member of either the train station I wad coming from or the hotel I was going to -- was "all right my lover!" In exactly the accent that I've always heard in parodies of that.

It could not have been more stereotypical. I love it when these things happen. It's like that one time when I actually heard someone from Yorkshire say "there's nowt as queer as folk."

oursin: Photograph of small impressionistic metal figurine seated reading a book (Reader)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-07-09 07:28 pm

Wednesday is back on schedule

What I read

Finished Murder in the Trembling Lands and okay, you have a mystery based on something that happened during some very confusing battle events back in the past, and this is all taking place during the upheavals of carnival in New Orleans decades later, and people lying, giving their versions of past events based on gossip, rumour, speculation etc etc, and possibly this was not really one to be reading in fits and starts.

Zen Cho, Behind Frenemy Lines (2025). This was really good: it does what I consider a desideratum particularly in contemporary-set romance, it has a good deal of hinterland going on around the central couple and their travails. And is Zen Cho going to give us a political thriller anytime, hmmmm?

Natasha Brown, Universality (2025), which I picked up recently as a Kobo deal. I was fairly meh about this - kind of a 'The Way We Live Now' work, about class and the media and establishing narratives and the compromises people make, I found it clunky (after the preceding!) if short, though was a bit startled by the coincidental appearance of the mouse research I mentioned earlier this week being cited by an old uni friend of one of the characters, now veering alt-right.

On the go

Also a Kobo deal, Taffy Brodesser-Akner, Long Island Compromise (2024): in my days of reading fat family sagas set in T'North, this would have been the 'to clogs again' section of the narrative.... it's sort of vaguely compelling in its depressing way.

Up next

Have got various things which were Kobo deals lined up, not sure how far any of them appeal. Also new Literary Review, which has my letter in it. The new Sally Smith mystery not out for another week, boo.

emperor: (Default)
emperor ([personal profile] emperor) wrote2025-07-09 09:16 am
Entry tags:

Next Chancellor of the University of Cambridge

It's time to vote for the next Chancellor (previously); I've looked at the candidates and their statements, but still don't have an obvious-to-me choice of who to vote for.

When I asked on mastodon, I got two responses (one for Sandi Toksvig, one for her or Gina Miller); FB has shown me one friend saying that Chris Smith is "a nice bloke, but also the only candidate worth of the role"; and I've been sent this from someone who evidently doesn't share my general political view (though I'm inclined to agree that being the author of tuition fees probably rules John Browne out).

I can see why people might think Wyn Evans is a good option, but his proposals seem to me more the sort of thing you'd expect the vice-chancellor to do, rather than the chancellor who is not really involved in the running of the university directly.

I'm currently inclined to put Sandi Toksvig first; I'm sure she'd be great at the schmoozing-major-donors thing, but also at engaging with staff & students and advocating for the University.

I'm planning to vote in person on Saturday...

[this post is public, I am screening comments by anyone not already on my DW access list, will unscreen if I think they're making a useful contribution]
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lnr ([personal profile] lnr) wrote2025-07-09 08:53 am
Entry tags:

On weight loss medication.

I wrote this on Bluesky last week, but wanted to save it in slightly longer form

On obesity and weight loss and medication

As a well off, educated, active person, who likes food including healthy things, but still has a lifelong struggle with my weight I do find even the best intentioned discussions around obesity hard. I'm currently heading towards a healthy weight/waist size using Wegovy, but that's a short term aid. What happens when I stop taking it? The advice from my practitioners is that obviously unless I keep up enough healthy changes I will gain weight, and I know that. But I don't know *how*. How to not eat when I'm hungry. How to never want to eat the foods that other normal people eat. I can book in some one-to-one sessions with a dietician and psychologist when I'm closer to trying to maintain my weight, but I honestly don't know how much it will help.

The first time I lost a big chunk of weight I was *sure* I wasn't going to be one of those people who gain it all back again. But I found it so so hard to stay where I wanted to be that eventually I couldn't face trying any more. I do wonder if in future a very low dose of GLP1 agonists or similar will be a long term maintenance option for people like me. Its not an option now. When I hit a BMI of 23.5, or reach 2 years of taking them, I'll be cut off. Then we get to see what realistic help is available at that point. I don't want to have to battle my weight forever, and right now it's not a battle. But how do you even prepare for that?

the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2025-07-09 08:40 am

Connexions (24)

An admirable capacity to grasp a situation

Rosamund, Dowager Countess of Trembourne, was finding life in Delft curiously agreeable. Had quite seen the necessity of going into exile, somewhere where she would be most unlike to meet any of her social circles either from England or the Continent, before her condition became too apparent to conceal, but had supposed that 'twould be quite immensely tedious.

For she had been used to the diversions of the spaws and the cities she and her late lord had been in the habit of frequenting, quite aside from the excitements of her secret endeavours for the interests of the nation. And dear Gillie….

Even when they had returned to England, while there were still those shunned 'em after the scandal over slandering Clorinda Bexbury and Lord Trembourne had been obliged to publish a public apology in the newspapers, they were still received in enough circles to have a bustling social life, as well as a deal of family matters in train with all this marrying and begetting.

So she had anticipated that it would be exceedingly dull to rest and wait upon lying-in, and then to be brought to bed, and fancied that at her time of life might take rather longer than had been wont in earlier years to recover from her travails once that was done. Entirely ennuyant.

But she had not imagined how much she would feel freed of a burden: like to float up like unto a balloon. Sure she and her late husband had not lived in one another’s pockets, had not shared a conjugal bed since before Lewis’s birth: but he had ever been there, moping about complaining of draughts or stuffiness and sitting down to table to discourse of the unwholesomeness of whatever fare had been set before 'em, and getting into a fret about some symptom he supposed he had. Boring everybody about his spaws and his quacks &C.

At least he did not recount aught about the ladies that provided for his particular pleasures – one felt a little sorry for the creatures, though supposed they were well-remunerated for their trouble.

Here she was, under the care of Mevrouw Peeters, that was kind, and competent, and not in the least encroaching, a very good sort of woman, one perceived that midwives were considerably esteemed in these parts. And the house so very clean and well-kept.

She might beguile the time by improving her understanding of Dutch, one never knew when that might come to be of use, whilst also polishing her abilities in cyphers and lock-picking. And dear good Grissie, sure she did not deserve that her daughter had turned out so well, had put into her trunks materials for embroidery and some several novels.

She entirely did not deserve that Clorinda Bexbury, that must have a deal of business upon hand, sent her the English newspapers accompanied by letters that contained gossip about the inwardness of various matters reported. La, Talshaw dead of some accident! though Saythingport had very properly ceased pursuing that suit to Nora as most improper while the family was in mourning.

But she had not imagined how much time she would pass in simply doating upon tiny Penelope. Had found it not only possible, but strangely pleasant, to feed her herself, although Mevrouw Peeters was quite able to find a wetnurse was one required. Look into those miniature features and endeavour to discern some resemblance to Gillie. Wonder whether the blue eyes of babyhood would darken to that warm brown…. Gaze upon the little hands and feet as if she had never seen a baby before.

Indeed, she had give little enough attention to her others. Had seemed to her an entire ordeal from the begetting to the birth – the months of the discomforts of increase – the time out of the pleasures of Society – And then once born, the infants handed over to wetnurses and nurserymaids.

How different things were, now.

Mevrouw Peeters strongly commended the practice of going promenade somewhat, now that Rosamund was growing stronger – though forbade her yet from carrying the babe herself, so she was followed by Geertje with the child well-bundled-up as she walked along beside the canals, or ventured as far as the Markt square with its bustle and fine buildings.

As they were about to re-enter, came out Mevrouw, saying that there was a gentleman come call for Her Ladyship, that she had put in the best parlour.

A gentleman? Rosamund put out a hand to steady herself against the door. She could only suppose it to be Undersedge, come with some news that should be delivered in person – she could not suppose that the matter of Talshaw was of any great urgency but oh dear, mayhap somewhat had come to Hermione?

She gulped, straightened her back, desired Geertje to take Penelope to her nursery and went towards the best parlour, that was very seldom used.

As she opened the door, she saw that that was too tall to be Greg Undersedge – took a second or so to realize, yes, that was Gillie, Gillie that had somehow found out her refuge. She shut the door behind her and leant against it, her legs trembling.

Why Delft, asked Gillie, though I quite apprehend that it is entirely out of any society that you are to know, a retreat quite like unto a convent perchance.

You are unacquainted with Mevrouw’s profession?

Gillie frowned. Profession?

Rosamund took a breath, stood up straight, leant over to take his hand. Come, she said, opening the door, and leading him upstairs to the nursery, where Penelope was already sleeping peacefully in her crib.

Mevrouw is a very skilled midwife.

Gillie looked down into the cradle, and then up to Rosamund. Ours?

Sir Vernon had initially commended Lord Gilbert to her as a young man that had an admirable capacity to grasp a situation with exemplary rapidity. She nodded. Her name is Penelope.

He picked her up quite surprizing confident for a young bachelor, then Rosamund collected that he had several nephews and nieces, so perchance had some practice in the art. She watched him thoughtfully scrutinizing her.

A pretty babe, he remarked at length. What are you intending to do with her?

She caught his uneasy tone.

Fie, I am not going to leave her outside some foundling institution! She took Penelope, that was still peaceably slumbering, in her own arms. No, 'tis my intention to take her to Yeomans –

Yeomans!

My dear, you must have had the thoughts I have had that perchance the orphans are not quite as bereft of parents as 'tis give out? Even did those parents mayhap not go to church with one another.

Indeed I have supposed 'em mostly by-blows rather than true orphans! Doubtless of friends of Miss Ferraby that found subscribing to her views cost 'em rather too dearly.

Well, 'twould be unmannerly to interrogate upon the matter, but Clorinda Bexbury assured me that Miss Ferraby and Miss Roberts would be entirely agreeable to taking Penelope –

Gillie grinned and said, and she would be in the hands of that peerless mistress of nurseries, Betty Higgins! One could not have the least objection. Those very healthful surroundings – Essie entirely commends the characters of the existing family – for of course visits quite often, still doats on the fiery Flora, to the great distress of all aspirants to his hand – there is an excellent governess – indeed, a prime solution to any difficulty. For Sir Vernon, I must reveal, is most anxious to call you back into the game – has been worrying at me and any other who might know to discover where you are.

She kissed Penelope and placed her back in the crib. The dear thing. But one saw that it would not do to keep her with her, no, she must put her in that very excellent situation among good kind people.

She took Gillie’s hand. I am gratified to hear that Sir V thinks so well of my services! I daresay for the next several months I must be about lingering at spaws, repairing my nerves from the shock of my husband’s death. But I daresay there may be work to be at there.

Indeed, she thought, she was still somewhat knocked up from bearing Penelope, at her age 'twas no light business, recruiting was only sensible.

But let us go and take coffee so that you may tell me what you have been about.

So they went to sit in the parlour, and Gillie recounted his adventures on Rozovsky’s estate, and how the Imbremeres did, and then how things had gone in St Petersburg, and then throughout the Baltic –

Very cold, he remarked. But now, after this short holiday at home in the bosom of my family, I am bound for Paris.

Paris, sighed Rosamund. Alas, that is not a destination for a grieving widow I fear – mayhap when I am out of black – but I might try one or other of the French spaws – Vichy? one hears well of it. Or Spa would not be any very great distance, would it?

Gillie sighed. I fear Sir V may have opinions in the matter and desire you to go to Carlsbad

Rosamund groaned.

– or Baden-Baden, now that would not be an entire impossibility

They sighed. Duty to the nation’s interests, it had to be considered, and here she had been, resting up very comfortable these several months.

A silence fell.

I suppose, Gillie began, stammered, began again, I have been in some thought – now that you are free – that now there is no obstacle

O, Gillie! He had never looked so young.

Rosamund took a deep breath. My dear, she said, do not go further towards where I think you tend. 'Twould be entirely unanswerable –

And one day, she surmized, there would be a younger woman that would ensnare his heart, she could not imagine that this could endure – however much it had become more than a flirtation or a brief indulgence – however little could she deny that 'twas love

No, she would not tie him in formal bonds. And while they might keep the matter clandestine, was it ever revealed, she shrank from the spiteful gossip there would be. Had circulated too much of the like herself.

Now, she said, I fear you should depart. I may tell Mevrouw that you have been bringing me news and messages from family and friends, but I do not think it wise to make it look any more than that you were passing through and did that civil task.

Slowly he nodded. Wisest, he conceded. Lifted her hand to his lips. Until Vichy, then.


hunningham: Beautiful colourful pears (Default)
Hunningham ([personal profile] hunningham) wrote2025-07-09 07:27 am

Focusmate

Using focusmate is good for me, not just at the getting started but having 50min sessions with a begin and an end means that I have little breaks, I stretch and I drink water. Also I work better, and I'm less likely to disappear down that rabbit hole and emerge later into daylight, blinking and going "what do you mean 100 years have passed?"

Nice things on focusmate

  • Seeing the same people pop up again & again and realising that they have added me as a favourite.
  • Someone told me that my room looked like a prose. English was not their first language, and I was delighted with the compliment. Someone else asked me if my room was a fake background. I said 'no, real' and they looked very suspicious.
  • Yesterday I spent half-an-hour watching a guy mediate on screen. He draped a towel over his head.
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Mad Scientess ([personal profile] nanila) wrote in [community profile] awesomeers2025-07-09 06:11 am
Entry tags:

Just One Thing (09 July 2025)

It's challenge time!

Comment with Just One Thing you've accomplished in the last 24 hours or so. It doesn't have to be a hard thing, or even a thing that you think is particularly awesome. Just a thing that you did.

Feel free to share more than one thing if you're feeling particularly accomplished! Extra credit: find someone in the comments and give them props for what they achieved!

Nothing is too big, too small, too strange or too cryptic. And in case you'd rather do this in private, anonymous comments are screened. I will only unscreen if you ask me to.

Go!
kaberett: Trans symbol with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
kaberett ([personal profile] kaberett) wrote2025-07-08 10:44 pm

[embodiment] some post-surgical notes

Apparently I'm not writing up a detailed version of this, so in brief...

Bodily functions feature heavily. )

the cosmolinguist ([personal profile] cosmolinguist) wrote2025-07-08 05:29 pm
Entry tags:

Tiring day but I survived

I had to present on my work for my team and some other people this morning, and it felt impossible to pitch it at a level that would reach both the people who know next to nothing about the work I lead on and the people who have been most intimately involved in doing it with me.

I missed a section, even with notes, which I think could've made it make a lot more sense. But also my line manager sent me a message immediately to say I spoke very well? I don't get it but I hope she's right!

squirmelia: (Default)
squirmelia ([personal profile] squirmelia) wrote2025-07-08 09:06 pm
Entry tags:

Mudlarking - 27 - shining

That morning a man was running up the hill, past me who was hurriedly walking down the hill.

“Lovely here”, he said.
“Yeah!” I agreed and then I realised he’d said “lovely hair”, and I'd just agreed my hair was lovely.

“Keep on shining!” he said.

That evening though, I headed down Trig Stairs. Low tide was over an hour ago so there was a smaller piece of foreshore.

I saw a butterfly fluttering by, and picked up tiny purple sherds.

Mudlarking finds - 27A

I headed across to the foreshore by Blackfriars after that.
“Have you found anything good?” a man with a group of people following him asked me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, but really everything is good.

Mudlarking finds - 27B

Looking at my finds, I picked up some flint, some little bits of glass, various sherds, including a marbled handle from something.

I moved what I'd found a previous time and turned over one rock and then it had a face!

Face
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Sebastian ([personal profile] wildeabandon) wrote2025-07-08 02:17 pm

Mixed blessings...

I have not, as yet, managed to find any work for over the summer, and am now slightly doubtful whether I'm going to be able to at all - it's quite rare for a contract to be shorter than a couple of months, so unless I get something starting in the next couple of weeks I'm probably not going to have enough availability.

I have somewhat mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, if I don't have any income at all this year, then my savings will be pretty much entirely exhausted by the end of the year. On the other hand, I am quite enjoying being a gentleman of leisure...
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mrissa ([personal profile] mrissa) wrote2025-07-08 11:27 am
Entry tags:

What We Are Seeking, by Cameron Reed

 

Review copy provided by the publisher. Also the author is a friend.

 

I love planetary settlement novels, and I love alien communication novels, and Cam has given us both. When John Maraintha arrives on the planet Scythia, he has no particular intentions toward its inhabitants. It was never his intention to be there, and now that he is, he expects to serve as a doctor for the colonists. But he's simultaneously shut out of some parts of Scythian society and drawn into the puzzle of its sentient species and their communications. Their life cycles are so different from humans', but surely this gap can be bridged with goodwill and hard work, even in the scrubby high desert that serves as home for human and alien alike?

 

Science fiction famously touts itself as the literature of alienation; Cameron actually delivers on that here in ways that a lot of the genre is not even trying to do. The layers of alienation--and the layers of connection that can be found between them--are varied and complicated. This book is gentle and subtle, even though there are scenes were John's medical training is put to its bloodiest use. If you're tired of mid-air punching battles as the climax of far too many things, the very personal and very cultural staged climax of What We Are Seeking will be a canteen of water for you in this arid time. Gender, relationship, reproduction, and love mix and mingle in their various forms, some familiar and some new. I expect to be talking about this one for a long time after, and I can't wait for you to be able to join me in that.

oursin: Fotherington-Tomas from the Molesworth books saying Hello clouds hello aky (Hello clouds hello sky)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-07-08 04:03 pm

I seem to have a massive batch of reviews of interest hanging about

The following are all in the area of environmental history: enjoy!

Rebecca Beausaert. Pursuing Play: Women's Leisure in Small-Town Ontario, 1870-1914.

Beausaert’s discussion of the growing popularity of outdoor recreation in the early twentieth century, as opposed to earlier forms of indoor leisure such as book clubs and church gatherings, also highlights the role of women in the rise of environmental activism in towns like Elora. In these communities, grassroots efforts to maintain the local environment and cater to the influx of ecotourism travelers flourished, further illustrating the agency of women in shaping both their social and environmental landscapes.

***

Robert Aquinas McNally. Cast Out of Eden: The Untold Story of John Muir, Indigenous Peoples, and the American Wilderness:

McNally’s emphasis on the role of race in Muir’s thinking, and, therefore, on his vision of wilderness preservation, helps readers more clearly see Muir not as wilderness prophet but as a man of his time coming to terms with the consequences of American expansion.

***

B. J. Barickman. From Sea-Bathing to Beach-Going: A Social History of the Beach in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Edited by Kendrik Kraay and Bryan McCann:

The book begins with Rio in the nineteenth century and shows that Cariocas regularly went to bathe in the ocean. The work incorporates an assortment of sources to give a vivid picture of this process. For instance, it was customary for bathers to go before dawn—as early as 3 a.m.—since many in Rio went to bed early in the evening, but also due to colorism within Brazilian society. The dominant white society enjoyed swimming in the ocean but also prized fairer complexions and thus aimed to avoid the sun. Yet, few amenities existed for sea-bathers. The city dumped its sewage and trash into the ocean and provided few lifeguards, which resulted in frequent drownings.
In chapter 2, a personal favorite, Barickman discusses the evolution of sea bathing from a therapeutic practice (thalassotherapy) in the nineteenth century to a leisure activity that provided a space for socialization across gender lines by the 1920s. Locals went to the beach to escape the heat of the summer, rowing emerged as the most popular sport in the region, and, as in other parts of the world such as the United States and the Southern Cone, beach-going became a popular way to make or meet friends. In short, the beach became a public space at all hours of the day, not just before dawn. Moreover, the beach captured the “moral ambiguities” of nineteenth-century norms (51-63). Men and women of all races and classes could be present in public spaces partially nude, to observe others and to be observed, in ways that society did not permit beyond the beach, but this continually frustrated moral reformers.
Chapter 3 centers on the work of Rio’s civic leaders to “civilize” the city in hopes of altering public perception of the city as a “tropical pesthole” (p. 69).

***

David Matless. England’s Green: Nature and Culture Since the 1960s:

The range of sources and topics is impressive, but at times the evidence is noted so briefly and the prose proceeds so quickly that breadth is privileged over depth. For example, the deeper connections between England and global ideas of green (as defined by the International Union for Conservation of Nature and the World Wildlife Fund), the influence of colonial experience on conservation events of the 1970s, and the tensions between the various governmental nature management organizations would all have benefited from a little more attention. Yet, even if the reader sometimes wishes for a slower pace to get their thoughts in order, Matless offers enough analysis to build the examples up into a clear and insightful picture. The reader is left with a general appreciation of the central environmental debates of the period and good understanding of how they evolved over time. For scholars, it is a multidimensional study that adds something new and long awaited to British environmental and cultural history. For others, it is a fascinating book filled with interesting stories, cultural context, and many moments of nostalgia.

***

Michael Lobel. Van Gogh and the End of Nature.:

Lobel makes a systematic case for a new way of seeing Van Gogh’s paintings. Carefully introducing readers to a host of environmental conditions that shaped Van Gogh’s lived experience and appear repeatedly in his paintings—factories, railways, mining operations, gaslight, polluted waterways, arsenic, among others—Lobel compellingly invites us to see Van Gogh as an artist consistently grappling with the changing ecological world around him. Color and composition, as two of Van Gogh’s most heralded painterly qualities, appear now through an entirely different perception influenced by a clear environmental consciousness.

***

Ursula Kluwick. Haunting Ecologies: Victorian Conceptions of Water:

The author sets out to consider how Victorians understood water, seen through nineteenth-century fictional and nonfictional writings about the River Thames. In chapter 2 she points out the existence of writing that emphasizes how polluted the Thames was as well as writing that never mentions the pollution, and wonders at their coexistence. The conclusion that the writings don’t relate to any real state of the river is not particularly surprising but points to the author’s overall intent, summarized in the book’s title.

***

Alan Rauch. Sloth:

Rauch views these caricatural depictions—including portrayals of sloths as docile and naive creatures, as seen in the animated film Ice Age (2002)—as potentially detrimental to the species’ well-being. Through his analysis, the author critiques how sloths have been appropriated to fulfill human (emotional, cultural, and economic) needs and how this process misrepresents sloths, leading to harmful stereotypes that diminish their intrinsic value and undermine their agency.

mrissa: (Default)
mrissa ([personal profile] mrissa) wrote2025-07-08 09:21 am
Entry tags:

A Mouthful of Dust, by Nghi Vo

 

Review copy provided by the publisher.

This is another of the novellas featuring Cleric Chih and their astonishing memory bird Almost Brilliant, although Almost Brilliant does not get a lot of page time this go-round. This is mainly the story of hunger, desperation, shame, and unquiet ghosts. It's about what depths people might sink to when famine comes--in this story, a famine demon, personified, but the shape of the story won't be unfamiliar if you've read about more mundane famines.

The lines between horror and dark fantasy are as always unclear, but wherever you place A Mouthful of Dust, I recommend only reading it when you're fully prepared for something unrelentingly bleak.

mrissa: (Default)
mrissa ([personal profile] mrissa) wrote2025-07-08 07:55 am
Entry tags:

Queen Demon, by Martha Wells

 

Review copy provided by the publisher.

This is not a stand-alone book. It's a close sequel to Witch King, and the characters and their situation are more thoroughly introduced in that volume. Unless you're a forgetful reader or specifically like to reread whole series when new installments come out, I think Wells gives you enough grounding to just pick this one up, but not enough for this to stand alone--it's not intended to.

If I had had to pick the title of this book, the word "alliances" would have figured heavily in it. I get that the two titles pair well this way, but this is a book substantially about dealing with one's allies--the ones who are definitely, definitely not friends as well as the ones Kai loves dearly who are not actually as reliable as he might have hoped. The other enemies of Hierarchy are not all immediately eager to team up with an actual demon; some of them require convincing that the enemy of their enemy really is their friend (VALID, because that is not a universally true thing). And of course Kai's own nearest and dearest are growing as people and have the growing pains associated with that. If you enjoyed Witch King, you're in for a treat as this is very much a continuation of all the things it was doing.

the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2025-07-08 08:38 am

Connexions (23)

Very fine news

There had come about a habit in the Rondegate household that one morning in a week Lady Abertyldd would come visit with Lotty and Gianna, to see how Zipsie got on, exchange family news, play a little music and sing perchance, 'twas exceeding agreeable. How different a mother from Cecil’s own was Lady Abertyldd! And on hearing that he had no sisters of his own, to their great shock and distress, Lotty and Gianna had quite offered that as he was now entirely part of the family, they would be his sisters.

Zipsie had given a little amuzed snort upon hearing that – o, a brother, that may take them about on jaunts, and no doubt make 'em little gifts of sweetmeats &C, and mayhap they will work you a pocket-handkerchief or so in recompense. She smiled. But they are good girls, did they not keep that brat Millie in order?

But as this week’s call impended, Zipsie looked across the breakfast table with a little frown, saying, that she would desire an opportunity to convoke privately with Mama, might he offer to take the girls on some excursion? They are lately in a great desire to go to the East India Museum, a girl at their dancing class told 'em of the automaton of a tiger devouring a Company officer to the sound of horrid growls and anguished cries and they are quite wild to see it.

I am quite wild to see that myself! I will be about finding out the terms of admission, and take 'em off on that treat.

That is exceeding kind. And bring 'em back here for tea, so that they do not feel I neglect 'em – Mama will have left by then, and I have Mrs Lucas coming to discourse of ghazuls, but we may send 'em home in the carriage.

He wondered what it was that she desired to be closeted with her mother about: might it be mysteries of womanhood? or might there be some matter of Ollie having an escapade? For his recent letters had contained several mentions of a young actress that had turned out to be one they had known in childhood – Zipsie had wrinkled her nose a little and remarked that sure she recalled the Richardsons, they had been quite the cynosure in charades, even better than the Merretts!

And added that mayhap 'twould be a good thing to distract Ollie from yearning over Thea.

So Lotty and Gianna had quite jumped up and down and clapped their hands at the intelligence that he had arranged this visit to the East India Museum, and a most enjoyable time of it was had.

When they finally re-entered the house, he could hear that there was still activity in the music-room. He told the footman to order tea served in the Mozart salon, and told his sisters-in-law to run along there, while he went to see what was ado with his missus.

In the music-room he found Zipsie at the piano, with Mrs Lucas – a fine figure of a woman, and very graceful for all her stoutness – leaning over her – and a man standing at her other shoulder.

Good Lord, that was Davison! Had lately been elected to the club – friend of Sallington – Oxford don – ah yes, great scholar of Persian, that was it –

Zipsie looked up. Can it be tea-time already? We have been quite lost in Persia I am afraid to say – reft by djinni – well, beginning to find a way to come at setting these ghazuls – la, I am failing in my social duties –

Cecil smiled and said that he and Mr Davison were already acquainted by way of Lord Sallington. Had foolishly not occurred to him that Mr Davison’s studies might be of interest to Zipsie.

Davison said that had only quite lately turned his attention to Persian music, but this was a very fascinating problem of as 'twere translation.

But, said Zipsie, I fancy we have laboured long enough the day – and should go have tea afore my little sisters devour everything – She stood up, and started tidying music and books and papers together.

Mrs Lucas said she could not bide long – was staying at Pockinford House and her sister got into the greatest fret was one a little late –

Zipsie raised her eyebrows a little and said, had heard somewhat of that from Thea. But they might send her in the carriage with her sisters – would not be greatly out of the way to go by Pockinford House –

Cecil nodded and said, entirely answerable.

When they came to the Mozart salon they found Lotty and Gianna drinking raspberry shrub, and having already done a deal of damage to the neat arrangements on the cakestands. Zipsie grinned and went to ring for replenishments as she exhorted her sisters to stand up and show civil – introduced 'em in proper form to Davison – that looked less daunted than Cecil had feared, mayhap he had young sisters of his own?

It was less awkward of a tea-party than he had anticipated – of course, one fancied that Mrs Lucas, in her capacity as a rector’s wife, had a deal of experience along those lines! – and any attempt by Lotty and Gianna to represent the action of the automaton was firmly quashed.

After the girls and Mrs Lucas had been dispatched, Zipsie remaining in the salon to keep Davison company, Cecil returned to find Zipsie proposing that Mr Davison might stay to dine – since they were dining quietly at home the e’en –

One could see no harm. The chap was entirely acceptable, and one need not worry that he was one of those bachelors that insinuates himself in order to get up flirtation or worse with married women. Had that tiresome journey back to Oxford to look forward to.

It transpired that in fact Davison was not returning to Oxford, but was staying at Mulcaster House – Her Grace had lately acquired a most fascinating manuscript that desired to convoke with him concerning – but it so happened that all the family had engagements the e’en and he found himself a little at loose ends –

So, really, he was entirely the thing and a person one would very much wish to know – indeed, very much a friend of Sallington’s rather than a mere club acquaintance – had been to Nitherholme to advize Julius Roberts concerning a Persian garden

He and Zipsie glanced affectionately at one another over the table and revealed that their match had been made at Nitherholme – had seen less than he might have desired of Roberts – had had some notion of inviting him to Wepperell Larches –

Was soon revealed a deal of mutual acquaintance.

After the dessert, Zipsie rose with a little moue saying she would do the proper thing and leave the gentlemen to port and tobacco. He had noticed, during the several courses, that she had not been eating as heartily as her usual wont, and wondered was she a little out of health.

A slight uneasy silence fell.

Do you care for cigarillos? Cecil enquired, going to the sideboard. Sallington has give me quite the taste for 'em. Understand has found an importer so is not dependent upon gifts from di Serrante –

Davison accepted a cigarillo.

After they had puffed a little he cleared his throat and remarked how very enviable was Lord Rondegate’s situation – a wife of such accomplishments and so amiable a nature –

Indeed, Cecil agreed, I am most exceedingly fortunate. We sort very well together. Her family are the most agreeable people – in an excellent set –

They did not linger longer than it took to smoke one cigarillo apiece and consume a glass of port, before joining Zipsie in the Mozart salon.

Cecil scrutinized her surreptitiously, but in the lamp-light she did not appear particularly pale, or have dark shadows under her eyes, so mayhap he was worrying unduly.

At length Davison departed, refusing their offer of sending him in the gig – Cecil had a notion that he was going to drop in at the club before returning to Mulcaster House – but expressing enthusiastic appreciation at their hospitality.

I hope, said Zipsie, taking Cecil’s arm as they turned away from the front door, you did not mind my inviting him to dine – it was so much the habit at Bexbury House that I did not think to ascertain whether 'twould suit you – whenever there was no particular occasion and we were dining en famille there would be quite the congeries of guests – old comrades of Uncle Casimir’s – business colleagues of Granda – all sorts of Ollie and Follie’s friends – old Mr Dalrymple quite often –

O, be entirely easy, my dear! He is a most agreeable fellow that thinks very highly of your talents. And that is a very fine practice, though sure, I fancy 'tis more practicable to accommodate at Bexbury House when there are more than one or two unexpected guests –

Quite so. But, Cecil, really?

Really!

She blushed.

Then gulped, and said, had somewhat to communicate to him, and mayhap they might return to the parlour and sit down to it?

So they returned to the salon, and he offered to ring for fresh tea, but she shook her head and went to sit upon the sopha.

He sat down next to her and took her hand.

She gave a little sigh, and then said, had been feeling a little qualmish this last little while – naught very serious, yet, not my usual state of health, but nothing that seemed any matter to go consult a physician over –

Was that why you wished to be closeted with Lady Abertyldd?

Zipsie nodded. And indeed, 'twas extremely agreeable to talk to Mama without the girls there – have had hardly a chance since we returned to Town – and she was most exceeding reassuring. Said that sure, in the early days of marriage, the humours may go as 'twere somewhat out of order, and that is nothing to fret about, but she is like to think there are signs that I go with child, though one cannot be at all definite –

Zipsie! He put an arm around her. That is very fine news, and I daresay she also had very sound advice about how you should conduct yourself – take care – special matters of diet - &C?

She giggled and said, certainly so! But not to make a great deal of it yet, might be mistook.

Well, we shall not convey the intelligence to Tunbridge Wells, then! He could quite imagine that his mother would wish poor Zipsie to lie upon a sopha for the next several months, did she hear this news.


arlie: (Default)
arlie ([personal profile] arlie) wrote in [community profile] unclutter2025-07-07 09:53 pm

Progress Again at Last

I was making slow progress last year. But then my housemate was injured, and needed to use a walker for a while. Clearing space for the walker basically boxed in everything that she didn't need to access, including all my work in progress. I couldn't - and still can't - even close the door to my home office.

She's now almost completely recovered. The walker has been retired, and so has the cane that came after it. Last week I made a very small inroad into the surface mess in my office. I'd planned to work on that daily, but life happened. Until today.

Tonight I wanted to read a book. My book reading chair was well positioned for light in the morning, but not at all good when it's dark outside - artificial light sources near it are inadequate. So I kind of lost it, and attacked the mess.

Things that got moved to my bedroom from e.g. the living room to make space for the walker have been consolidated or removed. The reading chair is in there, with a pair of plastic storage bins stacked as a coffee table beside it. A largish number of unread media have been evicted with extreme prejudice. The matching chair that was full of objects moved from the housemate's bedroom has been unburied, and moved to where the usable chair had been, still containing the smaller objects that had been in/on it. I asked the housemate to clean them up eventually - no hurry - and she promptly shoved them into plastic storage boxes and carried them off.

There's more still to do - e.g. backfilling the place the second chair was with stuff from a heap on top of a rocking chair, or perhaps moving the whole heap there, chair and all. And I'm not entirely satisfied with the new location of my laundry hamper. But I can read comfortably in the late evenings, without sitting at the dining room table in a less comfy chair.

I'm physically tired, and I imagine my back will be screaming at me tomorrow. I've doubtless inhaled enough dust to give a susceptible person an asthma attack. But both my bedroom and the living room feel somewhat less like warehouses, particularly my bedroom. (I feel like it's all mine again at last, even though essentially all the junk that was blocking it up was mine rather than ours.) Phew!