"step from the road to the sea to the sky..."

To borrow Gramarye1971's articulation, I'm among those feeling like "December 2008 crept up behind them and coshed them on the back of the head," but much of it's my own darn fault, and the stuff that isn't can't be helped, so I will restock on dried squid tomorrow and brew buckets of tea all month, and all will eventually be well.

Plus, it seems churlish to wax anxious or fretful about anything when there's so much well with me already:

The new issue of flashquake is up, and it includes two of my poems: "The Sharpshooter Assembles A Relish Tray" and "A Stack of Cards."

I just got back from a week in the United Kingdom, where I got to meet up with aunty_marion at the Islington Slug and Lettuce, poked around Bletchley Park (which is in Buckinghamshire, and yes, there may eventually be TDiR fic from this), and meandered around Glasgow and Belfast with my sweetie. (And as with every trip, there were more people we would have liked to see than time to see them in, but we hope to be back (and for a longer holiday) in a couple of years...)

"Cthulhu" -- the BPAL scent, that is -- came to the rescue on our train ride from London to Glasgow, since I hadn't adequately anticipated the reek vs. sleep factor (i.e., sharing a very enclosed cabin after a long day sans showers).

Lots of anecdotal notes to self on differences between US and UK customs (what is(n't) comped in hotel rooms, etc.) and general climate (Belfast: lots of short skirts and high heeled boots in spite of the cold) and other things, which may show up here later either in fic or general natterings. I'll save it for January or later, though, since it's not like any of you lack things to read right now, and many of you are in the same boat as I am re: Stuff That Must Be Written Before Solstice. (All together now: EEK!) (And, deep breath: EEE!) (Who knows when they'll get written, but the plots, they are like the innards of intricately carved chesspieces...)

In Glasgow, there's a major road called Sauchiehall Street (pronounced "suckyhall"). It translates to "Way of the Willows."

In Glasgow's Museum of Transport, there's a Ford Anglia on display. There's a white owl perched inside...

After the Beautiful Young Man heard about Marion's plan to copyedit Book 7, he said, "You know how some dude edited Star Wars and got rid of Jar-Jar? Someone needs to phantom-edit HP and ditch Dobby."

Cedar, every time I saw the Odeon Leicester Square sign, I thought of you.

One of Belfast's most fashionable clothing stores (in the new, uber-fashionable Victoria Square complex) is called Remus Uomo. I've been telling you all for years that the shabby clothes were a front...

Cannot get "Together in Electric Dreams" out of my head. This is primarily from a late-night drink at the Stiff Kitten, where the DJ was playing what both the BYM and I think of as "80s comfort music" - which was all the more entertaining because two local, not-too-drunk lads periodically kept trying out breakdancing moves, with no one else in the bar paying them any mind. (We also stopped by the Morning Star, another pub where several tables of older people kept bursting into song. Some of it wasn't bad, but the multiple attempts at "New York, New York" were rather dire, and in spite of ordering a drink that came with its own plastic oar, I was not near tipsy enough to encourage them directly.)

There's more, but I need to tidy up and grab a quick bite before a meeting. Later, loves! *blows kisses and wafts warm studying/shopping/surviving/sketching/snoozing vibes at all y'all*

DOUBLE DRABBLE for odogoddess (Luna/Severus, R)

This is for odogoddess, who wished for "post-DH forced bonding, marriage law type, Snape *must* marry fic. Virgin Snape. Angst. Wedding night awkwardness. Happy or hopeful ending. Any partner except: any DE, any Ministry person, elves. Link to your favourites with this theme are appreciated. Prefer smut, no gen." I think I fit most of that in... ;-)


Life Force

( When Severus regained consciousness, he first batted away the radish his wife had been holding under his nose. )