Survey

If you look in the side-bar on the right of this page, you'll see I've started a poll. A certain Pomme de Terre Chasseur de Couleurs thinks I should start posting things in French, or carrément start a separate French version of this blog (Non, pas de pingouins, anyone?). Plus Belle Ma Vie thinks it should stay in English. I'm in two minds (nascent schizophrenia? Nah, just the usual mild befuddlement), so I'd like to know what other people think on this question. Writing in French wouldn't pose any problem- after 140 pages on obscure Anglo-Norman medieval history, a blog post now and then is no big deal- but my sense of humour occasionally fails to translate, usually because people aren't expecting it to.

I shall clarify.

When I respond to someone asking if my mother speaks French, for example, by saying "oui, un petit pois", I am not mixing up the words "pois" (pea) and "peu" (bit). I am, instead, repeating a common error made by numerous English speakers of French with the intention of it being funny. (This is, actually, a real example, said to someone who should have known better, who did think I was talking about vegetables).

So. Maybe I will write in French, eef you laike. Mais seulement si vous jurez de ne jamais, ô grand JAMAIS, me prendre au sérieux, and not to judge me for the fact my usual keyboard can't cope with accents.

Merry-go-Round

I've spent the last ten days on a hunting trip in Cambridgeshire. My prey- the elusive Job- has so far eluded me, but I have laid down some traps which I hope will work. Before leaving for the hunting trip, however, I did manage to catch- with my bare hands! - a small job (joblet?) for next week. The poor admin people at the jobcentre already struggle with the ridiculous range of things I apply for (editorial assistant, waitress, pastry chef, PhDs...)- I think they think I'm making half of it up. So, now, which of these things am I doing next week, they wonder?

PIT ORCHESTRA!

Hahaha.

I'm playing for a production of Carousel, a musical about which I know very little, except that it involves clams. My dad, who knows more about such things than I do, informs me that no, there are not going to be actors dressed up as shellfish and begging people not to eat them. 'tis disappointing. Ah well, we shall see.

A Monopoly Anomaly

This afternoon, my family (well, some of us) managed to finish a game of Monopoly. It's the first time in years we've actually got to the end of one without someone storming off or knocking over the board or the parents banning all board games for ever and ever and ever. There was a definite winner, nobody cheated, and noone gave up and made teams.

That's not how Monopoly's meant to be played, is it?

Adressing the Issue

Wedding planning is not really my thing. Sure, I'm excited about getting married and sure, I want it to be a nice day, but the merest mention of colour schemes is enough to make me feel faint and if I see another Facebook advert for "pre-wedding weight-loss plans" or the like I might actually punch the computer.

Then there's The Dress. Not a dress, but The Dress. I had thought about that a bit, thought about making one, then made a conscious decision to stop thinking about it because it was just annoying me.

On Thursday, I was out in town picking up a few bits of shopping when I saw, on a chalkboard in an alleyway, "wedding dresses on sale". I went and had a look, just on the offchance, and because the shop is actually a sewing workshop/fabric shop/dressmakers that just does a sideline in wedding dresses, it wasn't threatening. To me, no shop that sells animal-shaped buttons can be threatening.

I found a dress. I tried it on, because hey, I'm unemployed and I had nothing better to do. I liked it. I liked it so much that I made an appointment to go back and visit it again this morning...

and...

(drumroll please)

Reader, I bought it.

That was fairly painless, really- if all the wedding planning goes that smoothly, I will be one very happy tree-climbing gnome.

Walls

Following the general theme of posts-inspired-by-other-blogs, today I'm going to post a photo. As you may have noticed, I am not a good photographer; any good shots are almost purely accidental. This one came out quite well, though- relatively speaking, at least. It might be better with a wee bit of editing, but I can't do that either.

Palais des Papes, Avignon- one of many pictures I take of old walls, also one of very few that might interest anyone other than me

There are more, better pictures at Pablo's Pictures. Yay, themed post week!

Oh, and in the interests of achieving a better ranking in Google search results for a certain phrase-

Tree climbing gnomes

Tree climbing gnomes

Tree climbing gnomes.

That's all.

Conversion

That's it. Windows has blue-screen-of-death'd me once too often.

Yesterday, it would appear that Windows tried to update itself and failed miserably, meaning my computer wouldn't start properly, poor wee mite. I'd been pondering the idea of converting to Linux for some time now (I know, I know, I said no more penguins, but Tux is quite cute...) but had never quite found the nerve to do it. Faced with a poorlysick Arnulf (my computer is named after Arnulf de Montgomery, who I suspect not even medieval history undergrads have heard of), I finally took the plunge. The conversion was relatively painless, actually, even for someone as technically inept as me. Tech geek high five please!


Windows hurt Arnulf
Arnulf now has Linux
Yay for Ubuntu.

And that, for those who hadn't figured it out, was a haiku, inspired by The Steen from Land of Teeny- and so the week of blog-friend inspired posts continues!

Just Quickly...

This week, I'm taking inspiration from some of the blogs I have links to in the sidebar.

For those of you who don't already read it and/or don't speak French, Plus Belle Ma Vie does a weekly post on the keyword searches that take people to her blog, and there's been some really wacky stuff in there. Up until now, nothing too odd's come up in mine- just a lot of stuff about penguins, marshmallows and evil sprouts. Until now, that is- I've just found out that someone got here by searching for 'tree-climbing gnomes'. Oh God. There must be two of us out there. Hello, other me!

I've just tested it, and this site is the ninth result for 'tree-climbing gnomes' on Google. I'm going to make a concerted effort to put more tree-climbing gnomes in here from now on to see if I can make it to no. 1 search result. Watch this space (but not for too long, you'll hurt your eyes...)

Book of the Fortnight, No. 2

Once again, I seem to be running a bit late, but better late than never, right?

This fortnight's book is Isabella: She-wolf of France, Queen of England by Alison Weir. Yes, it's a history book...well, all that education needs to serve some purpose, seeing as up until now it's not managed to get me a job. It looks like quite a long book, but actually, a good quarter of it is notes and references at the end. It's quite satisfying to finish an "educational" book sooner than you expect, even if you are enjoying it. The book also has two picture sections, as this kind of history-for-everyone book often does, which makes for a little light relief part way through.

Anyway (I should stop starting paragraphs with anyway). (I should probably stop using quite so many brackets, too). The subject of the book- Isabella, oddly enough- was the wife of Edward II, who, to all intents and purposes, was A Bit Of A Numpty. Her popular reputation is that of General Evil Queen Type Woman, mainly because of stuff Christopher Marlowe wrote about her 200-odd years after her death. See, spin is nothing new. She's also That French Tart In Braveheart- see, I was sure you'd have come across her before! Alison Weir is one of the "great three" female writers of historical biographies of medival women (yes, yes, I know, it's a very small field..) alongside Antonia Fraser and Anne Somerset, all of whom write books that are very, very readable. Philippa Gregory also deserves a mention here- although she writes fiction it's very well researched, and by 'eck, her books are good (this last phrase should be imagined in the voice of Wallace from Wallace and Gromit. Thank you.)

Anyway (see, I did it again!) (AND the brackets). Isabella kept me occupied for three hours in Lancaster train station, which seriously takes some doing. I really don't like that place, I seem to spend half my life stuck there, and very few things can distract me from clock-watching every time I end up there. I only flicked through to look at the pictures once. If you've never tried reading a history book, this might be a good place to start- and if you don't know what happens, so much the better, that way there's suspense too!

Next book in a fortnight's time. I'd better get going, there are so many books in my cupboard at the moment that I barely fit in it.

Llama Bread

Not to be confused with lammas bread. I may be small, but I am not an elf.

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. I haven't been around much lately- I've succumbed to the ailment known as Unemployment Lethargy, whereby the less one does, the less one wants to do. I actually just need a good, well-aimed kick (virtual) to get me going again. Ah well, 't'll'aa be reet int'end. (If you understood that last phrase, well done. If not, don't worry, unless you're planning a trip to west Cumbria soon you probably won't need it. Ever.).

Anyway, yes. Back to the llamas! I was making bread- it happens- and wondered why it was that I only ever made normal(ish) or hedgehog-shaped bread when there are so many options out there. The result was this:

As ever, the photo isn't very good- I need more practice! - and the llama looks a bit evil, but I do think it still looked like a llama at this point. Later, the bread rose, as bread is wont to do...


One obese llama. It kind of absorbed its legs and stopped having a neck, poor critter. And then we ate it, so it was all fine. The leftover bit from the back end got used in a bread and butter pudding, now known to the household as "llama bottom pudding". Oh dear.

Still here...

I've been a bit occupied (read: stuck in the cupboard) this last week, but hopefully normal service will return tomorrow, when there will be llamas.

To whet your appetite, here's a classic:

The Llama Song