Reading

Entry tags:

Wednesday got rained on going out for a brief walk

What I read

Finished A Darker Domain, which I thought was a bit so-so but maybe the series kicks it up a bit as it goes on?

Elizabeth Bear, Angel Maker (Karen Memory #3) (2025), which apparently is not supposed to be out until this week but Kobo UK let me purchase last week - a lot going on there (steampunk Western, for those who aren't acquainted with previous volumes) including making of silent movie with possibly sinister other motives and a lot of other stuff going on.

Latest Slightly Foxed.

Val McDermid, The Distant Echo (Karen Pirie, #1). Okay, I was pretty much spoiled for this because A Darker Domain mentions whodunnit, but still, not at all bad, even though it's a bit of a push to tag it with Karen Pirie, who is a very minor character who appears very late along in the narrative though does provide a key bit of evidence. (I am also a bit sad that McDermid has become this really quite mainstream crime writer after those early Women's Press years.)

On the go

Angela Thirkell, Love at All Ages (The Barsetshire Novels Book 28) (1959) - good grief, Ange, you really were phoning in this one, weren't you? (I bought it on promotion.) Padding, repetition, breaking the 4th wall, inconsistency - there is one character - the American-born Duchess of Towers - who at one point is Southern womanhood/invocation of Confederacy and at another has strong New England character, and we wonder about Thirkell's geography of the USA.... plus there is a couple who seem to be having Schrodinger's honeymoon, they are offered somebody's Riviera villa, but later mention that they will be doing a tour of cathedrals, and then they go off to Brighton hotel. Also she is really working her grudge against Ann Bridge as the novelist Mrs Rivers. It has its moments but one does feel her publishers just threw up their hands and said fuckit, if we do a full copy edit it won't be out in time for next Christmas let alone this year's.

Up next

Not sure, though there is a new Literary Review.

Entry tags:

LJ Idol - Wheel of Chaos - Wk 8 - Infrastructure (HOME GAME) (though not new, newly shared)




            curvy girl warning

be   gentle   with   me,   please
i deal with enough in the medical world
they chew me up and spit me out
too fat for real medicine
too big to be seen as 	   real
too much for even the mri to see within
so          who knows, really, what it is
just that i know something is really wrong
that i hurt like i haven't before
that i deal with pain on a daily basis
        and this New Pain Makes Me Want To Cry
but i didn't fit 
and they didn't call back
so now i have to play chase 
        like girls and boys in the school yard
        like men and women in bars
        like all the things i hate
but i'm simply a fat girl now
        too big to have real concerns
cuz they'll say
         "if you just lose some weight"
         or 
       	"exercise more"
as if 	the panacea of thinness 
         is enough
as if 	starving myself into disappearing
         is enough
as if 	taking a shot or a pill
         is enough
to stop a lifetime 
         of injuries and hurt
         a societal epoch
           of women being
         (invisible)
         for 
   	     (e)quality
 medicine
          weight 
is merely	    the newest 	            lie

Watch on YouTube

Galumph!

It turns out that there is a timeout to the "let's test your equipment" for the browser-based telehealth appointments with my therapist. That timeout is 5 minutes. I had to switch to my phone, which is always vexatious for me.

Recently, Belovedest hauled Dad's old machine (dubbed Galumph, after the imaginary draft horse stallion Dad always talked about as his preferred riding beast) out to test it and see if it would run. (The massive monitor that came with it did not run, but I have found a suitably crusty-looking TV and other screen based appliance repair shop to attempt a repair.) Galumph ran. Belovedest looked at the specs. "That's a freaking RACK SERVER masquerading as a desktop!!!" they said, or words to that general effect.

So after we returned from the Michigan trip, I told Belovedest that it was time to take them up on their offer to rebox my poor old suffering machine.

I accidentally gave them the wrong figures for my C: and D: drives, so there was a bit of a flurry at first, but after they switched them, they were able to get to a login screen. I opened my Chrome / User Data / Default / Sessions folder, copied the most recent Tabs_* and Session_* files to a subfolder that I've named "Explicit Distrust" and launched my browser.

All 1,5XX tabs opened.

I've been trying to decrease them a little bit ever since, starting with my Main window, where the tabs tend to proliferate with abandon. (Trying to do this on the old hardware took forever, in addition to me getting distracted by shiny things.)

Entry tags:

medical

United Healthcare is at it again

United Healthcare sent me a letter, dated August 26, to tell me that they were taking away my primary care of record (not actually my real primary care) -- retroactively not covered since May 16. And assigning me to someone whose UHC profile shows that he only takes 0-17 year old patients.

"If you have any questions" I could call in. Where I learned that there were a lot of those letters sent out in error.

I requested that the UHC phone agent quote me with any creative profanity she'd like to attribute to me when conveying my displeasure to her supervisors.

I called the schedulers listed for my "new primary care", who instructed me to call UHC back to say that I wanted to keep my actual primary care doctor (who I've had since my former nurse-practitioner went into Infectious Diseases. And gave me the "MPI" number of my current doctor, and further instructions on how to make this happen. (But it can't continue happening until tomorrow, because both of them close down their phones at 5.)

Kudos to that agent, who was on the phone with me past her scheduled departure time. I thanked her for that.

Entry tags:

ephemera

Going back to work

I start my new job tomorrow! My brain is a hive of bees.

I've been out of work since I was laid off in July 2024. It would have been really inconvenient to be working for a lot of that time, as I was helping my brother see our mother through her decline and death from dementia and also having some serious health issues of my own. (And Mom left me some money, which allowed me to say "I'm too stressed to job-hunt" and then not job-hunt, a rare luxury that I'm very grateful for.)

But I have to admit I've also been bored and restless and lonely. It will be nice to have co-workers, and tasks, and a paycheck again.

On the other hand, it's been thirteen months since I consistently had to be any place in particular in the morning. And the cat is going to be sad.

Fiction, including an unhappy rant at the end

Edward Abbey, The Monkey Wrench Gang: ( Ecoterrorists )

Ben Aaronovitch, Stone and Sky: ( Abigail to the front )

Rachel Hartman, Among Ghosts:( ghosts versus abusive family )

Adrian Tchaikovsky, Bee Speaker: ( Mars to the rescue (?) )

KJ Charles, Death in the Spires: ( murder among the swells )

Antonia Hodgson, The Raven Scholar: ( my favorite book so far this year )

The Best Science Fiction of the Year: Volume One (2018), ed. Neil Clarke: ( the pulse of the moment )

Richard Siken, I Do Know Some Things: ( prose poems )

Scott Carson, Departure 37: ( eerie phone calls )

Charlie Jane Anders, Lessons in Magic and Disaster: ( magic and community )

Melissa Caruso, The Tethered Mage:( palace intrigue and magic )
Chuck Tingle, Lucky Day: ( Not for me, sorry )

Kate Elliott, The Witch Roads:( survival in a dangerous magic world )

KJ Charles, A Nobleman’s Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel: ( more m/m in rural England )

Ray Nayler, ( Three very interesting books )

Matt Dinniman, Every Grain of Sand: The Shivered Sky - Book 1: ( Nope, need more Donut )

Ada Palmer, Too Like the Lightning( also not for me )

Allie Therin, ( 2/3 of a paranormal m/m trilogy )

Mira Grant, Overgrowth: ( Rant incoming! )

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Hemlock & Silver, by T. Kingfisher

After disliking both The Hollow Places and The Seventh Bride by T. Kingfisher, and for similar reasons (idiot heroine who refused to believe in magic when it was happening right in front of her; annoying tone), I gave up on her works. But since lots of my customers like her, I ordered this book. And when it arrived, it was so beautiful that I had to pick it up and examine it. And then I figured I'd read a couple pages, just to get an idea of what it was about. Those couple pages quickly turned into the first chapter. Then the second. The next thing I knew, I was actually enjoying the book, and finished it with great pleasure.

Anja is a scientist specializing in poisons and antidotes, who regularly takes small doses of poison to understand their effects and test out antidotes. She saves the lives of poisoned people, sometimes. This gets her enough fame that one day the king shows up, asking her to save his daughter, Snow, who he believes is being poisoned...

This is a very loose retelling of "Snow White," making clever use of elements like the apple, the mirror, and the poison.

Like the other books of hers I read, this one is set in an unambiguously magical world and/or has a portal to an unambiguously magical world, and has a heroine who doesn't believe in magic. I guess this is an obligatory Kingfisher thing? At least in this one, Anja doesn't deny that things are happening when they're clearly happening, she just thinks that maybe there is some underlying scientific explanation. This makes at least some sense, as she's a scientist. (Though in my opinion, science is basically a framework and a worldview, and a scientist in a magical world would be doing experiments to figure out how magic works, not denying its existence.) In any case, Anja does not act like an idiot or a flat earther, but pursues the clues she finds and doesn't deny what they suggest. She's kind of monomaniacal, but in a fun way.

Hemlock & Silver meshes multiple genres. It's not a horror novel or even particularly dark for a fantasy, but it has some genuinely scary moments. It's often very funny. And one aspect of the story, while technically fantasy, is so methodically worked out and involves so much science (optics) that it feels like science fiction. There's also a murder mystery, a romance, a surprisingly agreeable rooster, and a talking cat. It all works together quite nicely.

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Unrolling the bottoms of my trousers....

Just back from dental checkup - no major problems, one tooth could do with having an inlay done, unurgent.

***

Not bad for one of my years, eh?

The other day I was flitting around online and I came across some advice page where a young(ish) woman was complaining that her ma kept relying on her to do a fairly simple basic computer thing for her own business enterprise (!!!) even though daughter had A Life and increasingly busy career of her own -

- but, she goes, what can you expect, Mother Is An Old and they are not at home with Ye Tech, alas.

Age is given and Ma is young enough to be My Daughter, and not just Had I Been A Gymslip Mother in the 1960s, or even had I rushed to the registrar's office straight after receiving my degree -

For in those halycon days, my little ones, although we received GRANTS to go and study, did a lady-scholar marry while pursuing a tertiary education her grant was seriously reduced -

No, I could have been out into the world some few years before succumbing to maternity.

So really, that is no excuse, I don't consider that makes her even An Old - menopausal brain fog perchance? - but honestly, a woman of those years has had every opportunity to get up to speed with extremely basic computer operations, as in, creating documents and transmitting them to the persons with whom her business is dealing, in fact I don't know how she has managed to avoid this knowledge.

One suspects she is just exploiting Daughter.

(no subject)

Happy birthday,

kindkit!

Returned from Mitchagain

I picked a hotel based on price and reviews, and I think I picked poorly. Housekeeping was by request only, but they communicated that exactly bloody nowhere. The staff were universally friendly and courteous, but the lack of communication about that vital issue was overwhelming. I had to request housekeeping on Sunday twice, and the second time the person who arrived with fresh towels and to take away the garbage said something peculiar, about having us on the housekeeping list the next morning. I inquired, and learned that it is a lingering Covid safety policy. I would rather have universal masking as the lingering Covid safety policy.

Spicy mango frozen margaritas are delicious. We went to a local brewery, I think on Friday after the parish hall setup for the party. S & Z went for the frozen margarita "flight" and we passed the little goblets around for tasting. I tried the raspberry daiquiri (non frozen) and found it too sour. But I was able to enjoy the hot rim on the mango margarita, to the extent that I looked up recipes and got a bottle of Tajín after we got home. We played Sushi Go (except for Mums) and Wizard (except for me). There was no duckie in the big fishbowl drink as they were out. Alas. Hot Rim is our new band, and all the titles of the songs are double entendres, each followed by a B-side entitled "... Vociferously!"

Pips' partner H came for Saturday and Sunday, and it was very good to meet them. Belovedest has a sticker on their water bottle reading "I'm the enby sheep", and H is another such enby sheep. And Goth. We took to each other immediately.

The anniversary party was a hit. I even convinced Belovedest to dance with me to "I Will Survive", which I named as "our song" — not incorrect, but it's my song from nerd camp, and I believe their song by way of yeeting the evil ex, rather than our song together.
Cleanup on site was very swift, and we didn't actually have to stack all the chairs. Afterwards at home (the parental home), V and Mums put away leftovers and sorted the salad (cucumber and tomato separate from the lettuce) while the rest of the kid generation gossiped and played games and I carefully pulled the photos off the science fair board and sorted them back into their ziplock bags.

There was Sunday brunch, and I think we may not go there again — both of us and perhaps more of the party had mild food poisoning symptoms that afternoon. It didn't ruin our days fully, but I was glad to have my fully stocked medical kit on hand.

Squaredle is one of the family preoccupations. It's a NYT game that resembles Boggle, except it's a composed game rather than random, and the boards vary in size and shape. (One recent one was a 5x5 doughnut, with the middlemost letter missing.) There were also games of Boggle.

I did have the new folding power chair for the trip, which saved my strength for the important things. The acquisition is its own story, with the Bastard & Our Lady's own lucks. (This is a distinct entity from the folding scooter, which should arrive later this month.)

Crochet updates:
My #10 crochet cotton super Goth beaded choker is finished with the structural crochet work and needs the final outside beading. I'm waiting on more of the beads.
The self-striping granny triangle shawl has the first triangle complete, and I could wear it like that if I wanted to. Now that I know how it's sized, I've started the second triangle of three to make it a trapezoid.
Secret #10 crochet cotton project with a due date: I need to make a crucial measurement, but I found the perfect button in my collection. Awaiting the first chain. And I am pleased beyond measure to have been commissioned it.

Yellface is extremely glad we're home. She lectured us at length about having left, in tones I've never heard from her before. That was the extent of her displeasure, fortunately.

I experimented, and got us a first class upgrade on our way out. There was almost enough foot room for Belovedest, and enough elbow room for me. I even napped some. There was a cheese plate, and I felt secure enough in my prophylactic meds to partake. The only problem was the combination of my swoopy sleeves with armrest cup holders, so my right sleeve became saturated with ginger ale for a while.
Coming back was very crammed, even though we were in the premium seats with some extra foot room.

I'm glad I went.

Entry tags:

fun with polls

Labor Day Book Poll

Poll #33561

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 112

View Respondents

Which books would you most like me to review?

View Answers

Hemlock & Silver, by T. Kingfisher. The first book of hers I've actually liked!
53 (47.3%)

Lone Women, by Victor LaValle. Fantastic cross-genre western/historical/horror/fantasy.
36 (32.1%)

Into the Raging Sea, by Rachel Slade. The best nonfiction shipwreck book I've read since Shadow Divers.
38 (33.9%)

The Blacktongue Thief/The Daughter's War, by Christopher Buehlman. Excellent dark fantasy.
26 (23.2%)

The Bewitching, by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Three timelines, all involving witches.
17 (15.2%)

Mexican Gothic, by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Exactly what it sounds like.
32 (28.6%)

Archangel (etc), by Sharon Shinn. Lost colony romantic SF about genetically engineered angels.
34 (30.4%)

We Live Here Now, by Sarah Pinborough. Really original haunted house novel.
34 (30.4%)

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, by Stephen Graham Jones. Outstanding indigenous take on "Interview with the Vampire."
46 (41.1%)

When the Angels Left the Old Country, by Sacha Lamb. A Jewish demon and angel leave the old country; excellent voice, very Jewish.
61 (54.5%)

Some other book I mentioned reading but failed to review.
3 (2.7%)

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Possibly really after someone of the same name???

Some while since I posted about being solicited to attend a dodgy-sounding medical conference ('a boutique-style event that emphasizes depth and interaction. Modest in scale but rich in content, the conference’s intimate setting fosters close communication and meaningful dialogue.').

My dears! they must be quite desperate for me to attend, for I have subsequently received not one, no, but TWO further invitations to 'be an Oral Speaker and/or Session Chair', they 'would be honored' to have my participation.

This may be like that invitation I received to a Virtual Trade Mission to Estonia in the supposition I was person of similar name to mine who had at one time had something to do with the Alpha Chi Omega Fraternity, Inc (I do not know whether it would have been of any relevance to them, either).

Maybe there is an actual OB/GYN person of similar name - further hilarity if they are of a different gender, my first name being liable to confusion - and even more if they get queries asking them to be on podcasts about Queen Victoria's sex life and other saucy topics.

On another prickly paw, this person, who does in fact exist and Know Who I Am, and has been assured my continued existence and (relative) compos mentis state, has quite failed to get back to me. Perchance the tone of my response was just a tad tetchy - I did not say JFGI but even these fallen days I felt that a little poking around on Ye Internettez would have uncovered usable contact details.

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Rakesfall by Vajra Chandrasekera

Rakesfall

3/5. Chandrasekera’s first book made a splash, but this one really didn’t. I didn’t know why until I read it, and now I’m pretty sure it’s because no one wants to talk about it and demonstrate that they have no freaking clue what it’s about.

I’m . . . sort of . . . kidding. This is a strange passage of a book. It is ostensibly about two people who are instantiated across many lives over huge spans of time, and how they relate to each other, and how they don’t. It’s also about colonialism and modes of resistance and a sort of cosmic war. Probably?

Mostly, it’s a beautifully written piece with extremely clever intertextual stylings that is disorienting (on purpose, but I suspect he thought he was being much clearer than I think he is) and that does the reader only a few very basic favors in trying to figure out what is what. Or who is who, from chapter to chapter. Read if you like that sort of experience of disorienting fragments stitched together into something that, for me, did not resolve much at all.

Content notes: Many kinds of interpersonal and terroristic violence.

(no subject)

Happy birthday,

philomytha!

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(no subject)

Sometimes you hit the end of a book and immediately think 'I'd like to read that over again' because there's some sort of big twist that you know will make you experience the whole thing differently, and sometimes you hit the end of a book and think 'I'd like to read that over again' not because of any Major Plot Reveals, but because the book is woven together in an interesting enough way that you want the chance to fully appreciate how all the pieces fit now that you've seen the full puzzle.

This second case was my experience with The Fortunate Fall, a cyberpunk novel from 1995 that came back into print last year and that I did not quite manage to read in time for the Readercon book club (so I extremely appreciate

kate_nepveu's extensive notes on it including the intertextuality with Moby Dick.)

The book is narrated by Maya Andreyeva, a 'camera' -- a cyborg news-reporter modified to provide not just full sensory experience but also associated memories, context, etc. to the viewing public. When the book begins -- well, when the book begins, it has already ended, as Maya tells us; her whole audience has already experienced all the relevant events through her eyes, and now she's telling it to us again, in a narrative that she can control and that's on her own terms, contextualizing only what she wants to contextualize and hiding what she wants to hide. Which is a very fun way to begin a book, by consciously keying you into its distortions and elisions, and for the most part I think the text lives up to it.

Anyway, when not the book but the story begins, Maya has decided to put together a series commemorating the anniversary of a major [future]-historical tragedy, and has just gotten assigned a new screener for the project -- a sort of editorial figure who sits in between the camera and the audience, filtering out bodily functions and bad words and anything else that could be trouble for the network. Because of the amount of time they spend immersed in the heads of their cameras, screeners tend to become rapidly very enthusiastic and romantic about them! Maya's new screener Keishi is a beautiful and mysterious young woman who is, indeed, very enthusiastic and romantic about her! And definitely not keeping any secrets about her skills, her identity, or her reasons for being there working with Maya, no sir.

In true noir mode, Maya's initially normal-seeming historical research into a tragedy that's as long-ago and terrible and world-shaping for her as the Holocaust is for us ends up leading her increasingly out of the bounds of conventional society down a dangerous rabbithole, at the end of which lies forbidden knowledge about the world, forbidden knowledge about her own past, and forbidden knowledge about a really sad whale. And, following along with her, we as readers gradually start to piece together not only the particular dystopian shape of the world -- the parts that Maya already knows and the parts that Maya doesn't -- but also the shape of the story, the themes that it cares about and that have actually been driving the plot this entire time: embodiment, censorship, the atrocities we commit to end atrocities, and the power and beauty and absolute hard limits of queer love, just to name a few.

I don't know that everything about the book has fully aged well. I understand the well-meaning failure mode in cyberpunk that leads an author to posit a Monolithic Utopian Isolationist Africa when the rest of the world has gone to dystopian shit, but I think it is a failure mode. I also admit that I thought the entire grayspace digital-world sequence was a little bit boring. But for the most part the book is not at all boring, it's interesting in the way that only a book that actually trusts its readers to be doing an equal amount of work as they go is interesting. I did not in fact actually then read the book over again, upon hitting the end, because it was extremely overdue at the library [and I had five more equally overdue books on the pile] but I expect I will do so sometime in the nearer rather than the further future. Maybe I'll have the chance to hit another book club.

Entry tags:

cdrama,
cooking

Don't be afraid of the stars

I'm at the penultimate episode of Coroner's Diary and there are simply too many cinnamon rolls of the kind who die tragically. I am on melodramatic tenterhooks for the second, third and fourth couples. If it all goes too pear-shaped I am watching A Dream Within A Dream again.

In other news my copy of Hetty McKinnon's latest, Linger, has arrived. Coronation cauliflower and chickpeas is calling to me.

Entry tags:

cooking,
recipes

Culinary

This week's bread: loaf of Dove's Farm Organic Seedhouse Bread Flour, v nice.

Saturday breakfast rolls: brown toasted pinenut, strong brown flour, possibly rather too many in the way of pinenuts.

Today's lunch: halibut fillets, panfried (the packet possible exaggerated cooking time), served with samphire sauce; with La Ratte potatoes roasted in goose fat, baked San Marzano tomatoes, and Boston beans roasted in pumpkin seed oil with fennel seeds and splashed with gooseberry vinegar (a bit too al dente, not sure if this was innate or due to inadequate cooking time/temperature).

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Murder by Other Means by John Scalzi

Murder by Other Means by John Scalzi

3/5. A novella in a series about a world where people who are murdered come back to life 999 times out of 1,000, except natural deaths still stick. I was hiding from my library book (shut up, it happens) and let Audible give this to me for free.

I read the second novella first by accident, and had a decent time. It’s one of those stories that I’m never going to really love because it is built around thinking through the implications of a single premise and how that would change society, but there’s no attempt to actually explain anything, and that’s probably for the best because there is no explanation that would be interesting or satisfying. The implications are mildly interesting, though – how do you murder someone under these constraints, for one? So, entertaining enough, but meh.

Then I realized I read the second one first and tried to read the first one and no, please, stop. The tortured infodumping is just so bad, I cannot. Apparently ‘second in a series, we assume you already know how this works’ is the degree of explanation I want for this sort of shallow construct.

Also, Zachary Quinto narrates these (Audible Originals, they do that sort of thing) and he’s . . . aggressively okay at it. Aggressively okay is kind of the whole vibe.

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Haunted Toilet — Best Craigslist Post This Decade

Free Toilet – Haunted. Slightly Used. You’ve Been Warned.

Posted 7-Aug-2025 from the north side of Madison

In a dark room, a standard toilet seems to glow white

( click for pic )

Do you have guts of steel, a strong back, and a questionable sense of judgment? Then boy, do I have the throne for you.

As Paul Harvey intoned, the rest of the story…

I’m giving away a toilet. Not just any toilet. A porcelain enigma, a mystical butt-bucket, a vessel forged in the deepest depths of a cursed Home Depot clearance aisle.

It flushes with the fury of Poseidon’s trident and occasionally emits sounds that suggest it’s trying to communicate in Morse code. It once screamed. Not like the pipes—like a person.

The backstory? This toilet was installed in my guest bathroom, affectionately known as “The Chamber of Screams.” Three guests used it. Two of them have since moved to Canada without explanation, and the third refuses to make eye contact with me at barbecues.

What you need to know:

Flushes. Sometimes violently.

Bowl glows faintly during thunderstorms.

Came with a bidet. Now it just hisses and sprays randomly like a venomous snake.

Every full moon, the tank fills with glitter. Unclear why.

One Yelp review from a plumber simply said “no.”

I just want it out of my house. You must pick it up yourself and sign a waiver that I am not responsible if it follows you home.

NO SCAMMERS. NO WITCHES. NO EXORCISTS (already tried). Serious inquiries only.

If you’re brave enough to sit upon the throne and live to tell the tale, contact me ASAP.

archived version

Entry tags:

Peeple B weerd

Casn't seem to locate link to the article but apparently taking your dog to the movies is a thing these days? YOY? - and apparently one reason is so as not to have to get in a dogsitter for pooch while out at the pictures. What happened, we asked, to leaving one's faithful canine to guard the house during one's absence? O tempora, o mores, etc.

Presumably contra-indicated viewing would be Old Yeller....

***

Also in modern-day weirdness, another thing that is apparently A Thing is doing Extreme Days Out, which involves jetting off at the crack of dawn to some touristic spot, doing The Sights (at presumably a brisk pace) and then jetting home again, no doubt to soak in a recuperative hot bath.

Aside from the horrid environmental impact going on with this, how far can anyone be enjoying Tourist Spot if they're going at high-speed clip to fit everything in? It sounds like hell. No time to stop and stare and appreciate. Point thahr, misst.

I was therefore delighted to come across this in Lucy Mangan's column:

[O]ver breakfast I read about the great sunflower fields at Westgate Farm near Walsingham, Norfolk, which for the two weeks that the mighty blooms are in mighty bloom across its 16 acres invites people to come and pick their own for a small fee. Have you ever heard of anything better? Desire – no, need – filled me.
I demanded my husband – the driver of the family, for Walsingham is a short car trip away – abandon his desk, crowbarred my son out of bed and by 10am we were looking out over acres of sunflowers under an azure sky, and do you know what? It was even better than I had imagined. It’s just sunflowers, you see. Sunflowers almost literally as far as the eye can see. All facing the same way, because they are – get this – flowers that follow the sun.
We followed the little dusty tracks that led through the fields and wind about so that eventually you are facing the flowers and they are facing you, and the effect is so joyful and uplifting that even your family hostages begin to break into smiles.
We picked our allowance of five each and were home by lunchtime. They are now in a massive vase I was once mocked for buying but which I must have known somewhere deep in my soul was meant for this, and life is good.

Even if I was then depressed by her mention of the high levels of Ye Clappe in North London, sigh.