Dark and Jazzy
Worked hard all day, finishing The Inheritor, my new horror story on which I was making 'a few final changes', which turned into three days of fiddling. It is set in Guernsey, and again was taking a half finished story I had, and then completely reworking it. Nice to be thinking about the island even if disturbing things are happening there in my story. I have sent it to an appropriately named American publisher called The Dark Magazine. All I know is that I am greatly enjoying writing these horrific things.
Made a soup, which was weirdly brilliant from chicken stock, butternut squash, leeks, a few greens and a bit of onion, chilli, and ginger, plus tarragon, turmeric, and cumin and dancing.
All this against a national crisis. A vote of no confidence in the Maybot, which she won. The zombie leader staggers on towards the biggest act of national self harm I have ever witnessed.
Off in the evening to meet Anton who took me out for a bite to eat and a few beers. A nice night, although we went to a place called Easy Tiger, where I did notice the clue in the name, and ate some chicken wings which were volcanically hot. I suggested to that they were microwaved to the guy who bought them, as they were still steaming ten minutes after, which was flatly denied. A somewhat tetchy conversation ensued which did me no credit. Otherwise all good though, and Anton treated me to another bite in the Temple Bar (the Easy Tiger business was just a starter) and ended up in The Paris House, watching some musicians (The Will Gardener trio) play Jazz. This was fun.
Then we shared a cab home. Once Anton dropped off, the cabbie went on some random route in the opposite direction to where I was heading claiming it was a short cut. I pointed out in another tetchy interlude that it was bloody not, and he charged me half price. So all well in the end, but left reflecting on my own irritability.
Below the ah-hem, scene in The Paris House...
Made a soup, which was weirdly brilliant from chicken stock, butternut squash, leeks, a few greens and a bit of onion, chilli, and ginger, plus tarragon, turmeric, and cumin and dancing.
All this against a national crisis. A vote of no confidence in the Maybot, which she won. The zombie leader staggers on towards the biggest act of national self harm I have ever witnessed.
Off in the evening to meet Anton who took me out for a bite to eat and a few beers. A nice night, although we went to a place called Easy Tiger, where I did notice the clue in the name, and ate some chicken wings which were volcanically hot. I suggested to that they were microwaved to the guy who bought them, as they were still steaming ten minutes after, which was flatly denied. A somewhat tetchy conversation ensued which did me no credit. Otherwise all good though, and Anton treated me to another bite in the Temple Bar (the Easy Tiger business was just a starter) and ended up in The Paris House, watching some musicians (The Will Gardener trio) play Jazz. This was fun.
Then we shared a cab home. Once Anton dropped off, the cabbie went on some random route in the opposite direction to where I was heading claiming it was a short cut. I pointed out in another tetchy interlude that it was bloody not, and he charged me half price. So all well in the end, but left reflecting on my own irritability.
Below the ah-hem, scene in The Paris House...
Comments