Updating

6 January 2026 09:14 am
marthawells: (Witch King)
[personal profile] marthawells
I updated my sticky post with: PSA: if you get an email out of the blue that is supposedly from me, offering to help you with marketing or other publisher services, or asking for money, it is not me, it is a scammer. Also, if you see me on Facebook or Threads or XTwitter, that's not me either.

This is a very common scam now, one of the many scams aimed at aspiring and new writers.


***


I'm still sick, ugh


***


Nice article on Queen Demon on the Daily KOS:

https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2026/1/5/2361356/-The-Language-of-the-Night-Martha-Wells-takes-on-colonization

One of Wells’ most compelling gifts as a writer is the way she interrogates trauma, and trauma is very much in evidence in her recent works, especially in both Murderbot and The Rising World. Where the Murderbot stories form an enslavement narrative as personal journey and healing, the Rising World series applies a wider cultural lens to trauma and loss.

Kai has seen his world ripped apart twice: the way to the underneath, the world of his birth, is shut off; the world of his above existence, the world of the Saredi, is also gone, both of them murdered by the Hierarchs. (You could argue that the third traumatizing loss-of-world is losing Bashasa, but that lies in the gap between past and present narratives.) In the past narrative, a vanquished Kai himself is imprisoned in the Summer Halls until Bashasa frees him and he joins the ad hoc rebellion.

tiki

6 January 2026 07:16 am
prettygoodword: text: words are sexy (Default)
[personal profile] prettygoodword
[Sidebar: I didn’t fully unpack yesterday that the Austronesian language family includes, as a subgroup, the Polynesian languages. It encompasses the indigenous languages of Taiwan (the Austronesian homeland), the Philippines, Madagascar, Malaysia, most of Indonesia, as well as most Pacific islands to the east and south, excluding New Guinea and the continent of Australia. The Austronesian Expansion was … expansive.] [Sidebar2: Statements that Malayo-Polynesian is a synonym for Austronesian can be readily found yet are wrong: Malayo-Polynesian is subgroup of Austronesian, covering all the languages outside of Taiwan.]


tiki (TEE-kee) - n., a figurine or talisman in humanoid form of a god or ancestor.


tiki statue in Tahiti
Thanks, WikiMedia!

Also, as an adjective, relating to an exoticized representation of Polynesian culture characterized by tiki figures, palm fronds, tropical themes, etc. -- because tiki culture is indeed weird. Among Maori, talisman versions of tiki (called hei-tiki) are sometimes worn for protection/luck. Tiki was the first man in Maori mythology, and tikis are also known by the name of the first man in Tahitian (Tiʻi), though in Hawaiian the first man was Kumuhonua and a tiki is a kiʻi -- interestingly, tikis are known only in Eastern Polynesian cultures.

Which brings up the bonus word moai (MOW-ai), one of the large stone statues on Easter Island (Rapa Nui), which even though they are representations of ancestors, not to mention highly influential on tiki culture, are not considered tikis:

three maoi, chilling
Thanks, WikiMedia!

[Sidebar3: The emoji 🗿 is not actually a moai but rather a moyai, a Japanese sculpture inspired by maoi -- in Niijima dialect, where they were first carved, moyai means join forces/help each other, and mayoi are often used as meet-up landmarks.]

---L.
sovay: (Lord Peter Wimsey)
[personal profile] sovay
Doubtful as it may be under present conditions to find encouragement in anything of military origin unless it's the USS Princeton in 1844, about twenty-seven seconds into the two minutes' patriotism of Warship Week Appeal (1942) I cracked up.

Two hundred feet exactly of no-credits 35 mm, the object in question is a trailer produced for the Ministry of Information, essentially the same concept as the film tags of WWI: a micro-dose of propaganda appended to a newsreel as part of a larger campaign, in this case a sort of public information skit in which it is supposed that Noël Coward on the Denham sets of In Which We Serve (1942) is approached by Leslie Howard, slouching characteristically on with his hands in his pockets and his scarf twisted carelessly label-out, anxious to discuss a problem of National Savings. "How do you think we can make an appeal so it won't quite seem like an appeal?" With limited screen time to realize their meta conceit, the two actor-directors get briskly down to explaining the mechanics of the scheme to the British public with the shot-reverse-shot patter of a double act on the halls, but the trailer has already dropped its most memorable moment ahead of all its instructions and slogans, even the brief time it rhymes. Diffident as one end of his spectrum of nerd heroes, Howard apologizes for the interruption, excuses it with its relevance to naval business, and trails off with the usual form of words, "I'm sure you won't mind—" to which Coward responds smoothly, "I'm delighted to see you. And I know perfectly well—as we rehearsed it so carefully—that you've come to interview me about Warships Week." He doesn't even bother to hold for a laugh as Leslie snorts around his unlit cigarette. It doesn't feel totally like a bit. The interjection may or may not have been scripted, but Coward's delivery is lethally demure and his scene partner's reaction looks genuine; for one, it's much less well-timed or dignified than the smile he uses to support a later, slightly obligatory joke about the income tax, which makes it that much more endearing. It's funny to me for a slant, secondhand reason, too, that has nothing to do with the long friendship between the two men or further proof of Noël's deadpan for the ages: a dancer with whom my mother once worked had been part of the company of Howard's 1936 Hamlet and like all the other small parts, whenever her back was to the audience and the Hollywood star was stuck facing the footlights, she tried to corpse him. One night she finally succeeded. Consequently and disproportionately, watching him need the length of a cigarette-lighting to get his face back, I thought of her story which I hadn't in years and may have laughed harder than Leslie Howard deserved. If it's any consolation to him, his eyes really close up like a cat's, middle-aged, underslept, beautiful. It promotes the illusion that a real person might say a phrase like "in these grim days when we've got our backs to the wall" outside of an address to the nation.

Not much consolation to the MOI, Warship Week Appeal accomplishes its goal in that while it doesn't mention for posterity that a community would adopt the ship it funded, the general idea of the dearth of "ships—more ships and still more ships" and the communal need to pay down for them as efficiently as possible comes through emphatically. It's so much more straightforward, in fact, than I associate with either of its differently masked actors, I'd love to know who wrote it, but the only other information immediately available is that the "Ronnie" whom Coward is conferring with when Howard courteously butts in is Ronald Neame. Given the production dates of their respective pictures, it's not difficult to pretend that Howard just popped over from the next sound stage where he was still shooting The First of the Few (1942), although he is clearly in star rather than director mode because even if he's in working clothes, he is conspicuously minus his glasses. What can I tell you? I got it from the Imperial War Museum and for two minutes and thirteen seconds it cheered me up. Lots of things to look at these days could do much, much worse. This interview brought to you by my appealing backers at Patreon.
snowynight: Kino in a suit with brown background (Kino)
[personal profile] snowynight
Dear fandom, 

It's joyful to meet people who are enthusiastic about the same media /characters/etc! I love when you're creative and show me new ideas and insight. I am also thankful when you're supportive of my writings and ideas. I have a great time and hope you all enjoy yourselves! 

With love, 
Me. 

sovay: (Sovay: David Owen)
[personal profile] sovay
After a full week without water in the kitchen, the plumber cameth on half an hour's notice from the property manager and was horrified to hear about it, but he was swift and competent and we have a new and working faucet, which was all the problem turned out to be. Hestia made herself invisible in the bedroom throughout the proceedings. I washed a fork without first boiling water and it felt like a big deal.

I just finished reading David Hare's A Map of the World (1983), whose device of examining an interpersonal-political knot through the successive filters of the roman à clef, the screen version, and the memories of the participants reminded me obviously of similar exercises in metafiction and retrospect by Tom Stoppard and Michael Frayn, double-cast for an effect at the end approaching timeslip such as works almost strictly on stage. I did not expect to find some fragments preserved in an episode of The South Bank Show, but there were some of the scenes with Roshan Seth, John Matshikiza, Bill Nighy, Diana Quick. I wish I thought it meant there were a complete broadcast I could watch, but I'm not even finding it got the BBC Radio 3 treatment. More immediately, it reminded me of how many of the stories I read early were about stories, their propagation and mutation, their conventions, their shifting distances from the facts. "And, in time, only the bards knew the truth of it."

The problem with the denaturing of language is that when I say to [personal profile] spatch that the political situation is insane, I don't mean it's a little far-fetched, I mean it is driven by wants and processes that are not rational and it is exhausting to be trapped inside someone else's illness.

2026

5 January 2026 08:28 pm
moon_custafer: neon cat mask (Default)
[personal profile] moon_custafer
So, I’ve avoided posting about this, but just before xmas eve we discovered a bedbug infestation. It could be worse, I suppose—it’s pretty much localized to the bedroom, we threw out the bedspreads and a lot of stuff, and washed everything else, and have been camping out on the folding couch in the living room while we try to prep for the fumigators to come.

This has so far involved throwing out all the boxes that house Andrew’s comics collection—the comic books themselves seem to be ok, but the corrugated-cardboard boxes were definitely providing the ideal hideout for the disgusting critters. I bought thirty plastic bins and we’ve been transferring the comics and many of the books. Andrew’s been keeping it together better than I could have hoped, at least.

In order for pesticide spraying to happen, we need to 1. get as many of the shelves as possible away from the walls, and 2. to get the cats out of the apartment for 4-6 hours. This will be the hard part—Nana can be wrangled into a carrier, but in the five years since we brought her home, we’ve never been able to capture and hold Beatrice.

I guess, living in an apartment, it was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, of course, the wider world continues to be even worse.

In slightly better news, last week I read Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Children of Time. An SF novel about large intelligent spiders might seem an odd choice of comfort reading under the circumstances, but I’ve a feeling that in addition to watching a lot of David Attenborough nature films, Tchaikovsky has seen a lot of classic Doctor Who. His spiders are easy to root for, and his desperate human colonists fleeing a doomed Earth are somehow not quite as bad as real-life politics. I’ve also fond of Holsten Mason, the tragi-comic Classicist who, due to only getting woken out of cryogenic suspension when the crisis du jour specifically requires an expert on Old Galactic Empire dialects, is experiencing the whole multi-millenial epic as “a rough few weeks” during which most of the other crew outage him by decades.

I think my own writing is coming back after a rest following my Yuletide fic—I at least managed to make a bunch of notes today for Gentleman of the Shade, which for some reason has decided it needs another flashback, this one set in a 1970s supper club.

This evening’s migraine is being held at bay by rizatriptan, but it included, for the first time in my life, one of those zigzag rainbow auras I read about. Weird.

2025 in Books

5 January 2026 04:12 pm
starlady: a circular well of books (well of books)
[personal profile] starlady
It's the eleventh day of Christmas and high time to post this roundup. 

2025 Reading Stats
  • 144 books read, of which 12 were a reread
  • By gender: 45.5 (32%) by men, the rest by women and other genders
  • By race: 62 (45%) by people of color
  • By language: 28 (19%) in Japanese, 8 (0.5%) in translation
  • New books: 37 (26%) published in 2025
  • New-to-me authors: 27
…versus 2025 Resolutions
  • Read 125 books ==> Success! 144, an all-time high!
  • Read 25 physical books owned since 2023 or earlier ==> Success! 29
  • Read 35 books by authors of color ==> Success! 62
  • Read 10 books in translation ==> Fail
  • Read a volume of manga a week in Japanese ==> Well, I got closer than I have before?
  • Read all the comics bought before 2025, both physical and digital ==> Fail. But I did buy a refurbished 2021 iPad mini and reading comics on it in Kindle is a pretty good experience, unlike my old iPad which had been blinking off randomly for years. And I think I have done the physical part of it? Except for a few random bandes-dessinées I have lying around.
General Comments
I feel like I'm not entirely sure how I managed to read this many books (well, I read six Lumberjanes collections on the trains to and from New York on New Year's Eve, and I ruthlessly read a lot of novellas that had piled up in December), but I'm pleased about it. I'm especially pleased about reading so much manga, and also that I've gotten faster at reading Japanese again. Which is good because I still have so. much. manga to read. And I buy more every time I go to Japan. I'm also pleased about the physical TBR progress, which includes sorting a bunch of books lurking on the bookshelf for years into piles of "read this and then sell it back," which I will continue doing. Sadly Half Price in town closed because of landlord greed, so now I have to go to either Freemont or Pleasant Hill. Other than that, I did de-prioritize new books to focus on older ones, so there's a lot of good 2025 books that have piled up. Too many books, too little time!

Best of 2025
  • The Witch Roads and The Nameless Land (duology) by Kate Elliott
  • Holy Terrors by Margaret Owen
  • The Wall Around Eden by Joan Slonczewski
  • Tamsin by Peter S. Beagle
  • The Incandescent by Emily Tesh
  • Metal from Heaven by august clarke
  • Fuichin zaijian! (10 vols) by Murakami Motoka
  • Absolute Wonder Woman vol. 1 by Kelly Thompson et al.
  • Audition for the Fox by Martin Cahill

2025 Reading Resolutions
  1. Read 125 books
  2. Read 25 physical books owned since 2024 or earlier
  3. Read 35 books by authors of color
  4. Read 10 books in translation
  5. Read a volume of manga a week in Japanese
  6. Read all the comics bought before 2025, both physical and digital

Three Random Thoughts Make a Post

5 January 2026 04:57 pm
muccamukk: Bucky tightening Captain America's stays. (Marvel: For Beauty's Sake)
[personal profile] muccamukk
  • I was just thinking, "IDK who would even buy the English language side of LJ at this point!" (Especially with sanctions on Russia. Who could buy it?) Then I remembered hungry hungry data miners looking for things to feed into LLMs/Gen AI, and sighed. I guess they've probably scraped all the public posts anyway, but might be interested in paying for the locked content?

  • I'm vicariously delighted by everyone being so bouncy and excited about the hockey blorbos. I aggressively don't like men's ice hockey (except for that one fic), so will pass, but it's fun to see the enthusiasm all over my reading list. I wish you all a very merry time of it. ❤️

  • I seem to have found the other half of that one ship in D.K. Broster's "Mr. Rowl". He shows up 48% mark. (Though I can see the point about Mr. Howard Hunter, especially given that farewell). I find the comment, a girl to whom his attention had subsequently been drawn—indifferent though he was to the sex to be VERY INTERESTING for at least two reasons.

Does anybody have old magazines?

8 January 2026 07:23 pm
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
I’ll pay shipping costs. They just have to be picture heavy.

Hm. Maybe I should see if a local dentist or doctor was planning to weed soon….

I also didn’t expect

7 January 2026 04:34 pm
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
Such an open and bald admission that this is about the oil.
rachelmanija: (Books: old)
[personal profile] rachelmanija


This is a difficult book to review as almost all of the plot is technically spoilery, but you can also figure out a lot of it from about page three. I'll synopsize the first two chapters here. We follow two storylines, both set in an alternate England where Hitler was assassinated in 1943 and England made peace with Germany.

In one storyline, a young girl named Nancy lives an isolated life with her parents. In the other, which gets much more page time, three identical young boys are raised by three "mothers," in a home in extremely weird circumstances. They rarely see the outside world, they're often sick and take medicine, their dreams are meticulously recorded by the "mothers," and all their schooling comes from a set of weird encyclopedias that supposedly contain all the knowledge in the world, which are also the only books they have access to. There used to be 40 boys, but when they recover from their mysterious illness, they get to go to Margate, a wonderful vacationland, forever.

I'm sure you can figure out the general outline of what's going on with the boys, at least, just from this. What's up with the girl doesn't become clear for a while.


Spoilers through about the 40% mark )



Spoilers for the entire book )



This book was critically acclaimed - it was a Kirkus best book of 2025 - but I thought it had major flaws, which unfortunately I can only describe by spoiling the entire book. It's not at all an original idea, and I do think we're supposed to be ahead of the characters, but maybe not that much ahead. It also contained a trope which I hate very much and its thesis contradicted itself, but how, again, is under the end cut. It's a very serious book about very serious real life stuff, but that part really didn't work for me because of spoilers.


Lots of people loved it though. It would probably make an interesting paired reading with a certain very acclaimed spoilery book (Read more... )), which I have not read as I have been spoiled for the entire story and it doesn't really sound like something I'd enjoy no matter how great it is. But I suspect that it's the better version of this book.



Content Notes (spoilery): Read more... )

Snowflake Speed Run (Challenges 1-3)

5 January 2026 12:22 pm
muccamukk: The edge of an intricate pink snowflake. (Snowflake)
[personal profile] muccamukk
PSA: LiveJournal may be about to geolock to Russia. If you have shit there that you like, and want to see again without visiting Russia, now's a good time to save it. (ETA: Not sure if the terminology is entirely correct, but the sentiment is.) Here's a long bluesky thread about it by [staff profile] denise, which includes ways to export LJ to DW and/or to your drive. IDK how people are saving LJ scrapbook.

I'd say pass it along, but I think it's pretty widely broadcast by now. Pass it along to spaces where one can find LJ people are who aren't on DW?

Anyway, on with the show.

Two log cabins with snow on the roofs in a wintery forest. Text: Snowflake Challenge January 1 - 31


Challenge #1: The Icebreaker Challenge: Introduce yourself. Tell us why you're doing the challenge, and what you hope to gain from it.

Hi! I'm Muccamukk or Mucca. You may know me from Age of Sail, Stargate, Babylon 5, Marvel Comics, Band of Brothers or Top Gun fandoms, plus an extremely random selection of others across twenty plus years in online fandom spaces. I used to write fic and comment quite a bit, though I've been less active the last few years.

My pinned post and profile seem to be in good order, and I do still post link lists, book reviews and music from time to time.

I helped mod Snowflake for a few years there, and am taking this year off (mostly), so I'm looking forward to slightly lower-stakes participation, and maybe digging up some old memories/meeting new friends.

If you want to play an ice breaker game, check out my 2025 Media Tracker and ask me for a hot take on any albums, movies or shows on there (I think I've reviewed all the books up to December, which I'll cover in the next few weeks, but other media not as much).


Challenge #2: Pets of Fandom: Loosely defined! Post about your pets, pets from your canon, anything you want!

Somehow, the only pet I can now think of is Darwin from seaQuest: DSV, who isn't strictly speaking a pet. The talking robot dolphin was a lot of fun, though.

Instead: here's a list of fic I've written that include significant pets (canonical or otherwise), because writing pets is really fun, given they're often (very cute) chaos goblins designed to throw plans awry. (Presented in order written):

Unstinting
Fandom: Marvel 616 (Captain America)
Summary: Sam Wilson, downtime.
Pet Content: Sam Wilson's canonical cat, Figaro.
Read on DW | Read on AO3

Found Sleeping
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Summary: After Replacements, Bill and Johnny look for Bull.
Pet Content: Original mama cat and kitten characters.
Read on DW | Read on AO3

To Say Nothing of the Tiger
Fandom: Hornblower (TV)
Summary: Admiral Pellew wants a favour. Horatio wants to do anything to help. William just wants to spend time with Horatio.
Pet Content: Admiral Pellew's [historically] canonical tiger.
Read on DW | Read on AO3

A Dog's Eye View
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Summary: How Trigger sees the events of "Crossroads."
Pet Content: The dog that Tab probably stole found in Holland.
Read on DW | Read on AO3

Also, here's a picture of my cat, who is a fandom pet insofar as she's named after Kaylee from Firefly.Read more... )


Challenge #3: Write a love letter to fandom. It might be to fandom in general, to a particular fandom, favourite character, anything at all.

I have a vague memory of a History of Psychology class some twenty years ago, where the professor was talking about the uncertainty of knowing if the world you perceived with your sense and senses was even remotely similar to the world anyone else perceived. He described philosophy (which is more or less what psychology was for most of history) as being like creating an image of the world, and holding it cupped in your hands, then opening your hands to show it to other people, and inquiring if that matched their image of the world, a process which bagged a number of questions for future philosophers to attempt to unpack. (Some of all of these details may be incorrectly recalled, with apologies to Professor C.)

This is how I feel about art in general, and fandom specifically: that need to articulate how one understands the world, and see if anyone else feels the same. And, yes, that does often involve a lot of pornography, but the point of transformative works as a form of philosophical communication remains.

I see a story out in the wide world, and it sparks something in me: resonates with a life experience, and emotion, something I want and don't have, an aspirational or cautionary way of moving through life, a new idea, something that just really pisses me off. The story speaks to me about how I perceive the world, and I wonder if that's true for anyone else, too.

So I take that story, and say to a friend and peer, "Hey, did you see that? Did it inspire/intrigue/inflame you too?" And someone else comes back and says, "Yes, but also..." or "Yes, and this too..." or "No, because..."

(or they don't, ask me about being in a fandom of one...)

And that communication can take the form of edits, or discord conversations, or meta posts, or pic spams, or setting the story to music, or rewriting it into a new story, or making a picture, or... or... or.... (In some ways, those reaction fic, that just retell a scene in a show or movie from the PoV of the author's blorbo, are the most immediate form of this.)

As a form of philosophy, it's imperfect, and often shallow, and inherently biased, but holding my fannish heart between two cupped hands and showing it to others has gone a long way to formulating how I interact with the world, and often made me feel less alone.

And for that, I'm grateful.

taboo

5 January 2026 07:40 am
prettygoodword: text: words are sexy (Default)
[personal profile] prettygoodword
So. Theme week: words from Polynesian languages, which are spoken on those Pacific islands in the triangle defined by New Zealand, Hawaii, and Easter Island, excluding Fiji. [Sidebar: Fijians are not Polynesian, but rather ethnic Melanesians (that is, related to Papuan peoples of New Guinea) who came to speak an Austronesian (i.e. non-Melanesian) language that’s closely related to the Polynesian subfamily.] This is definitively not part of last year’s series of words from various indigenous American languages. It happens to be aligned with one segment of that series, in that Hawaiian is Polynesian, but it and Rapa Nui are the only Polynesian languages of the Americas (and we didn’t get enough words from the latter to fill even one week), but to reiterate, this is separate. I have no plans to continue with other language groups of the world — no, not even Malay, even though it’s in the same Austronesian family — but nonetheless, here’s a two-week theme of words from Polynesian languages that aren’t Hawaiian, starting with:


taboo (tuh-BOO, ta-BOO) - n., (in Oceania) a prohibition excluding something from use, approach, or mention because it is sacred and inviolable; (in general) a ban on saying, mentioning, or doing something from social custom or emotional aversion. adj., (in Oceania) excluded from use because of its sacred nature; (in general) cutlurally forbidden. v., to mark as taboo; to ban, forbid.


Although the word and concept is found throughout Polynesia, including Maori tapu and Hawaiian kapu, we know in this case it's from Tongan tapu because the first use is by Captain James Cook in his journal of his 1777 visit to Tonga. (In Tongan, p and b are apparently hard to differentiate.) In general, his account of the word is fairly accurate, by our modern understanding of the concept.

In contrast, there's the Bonus Word noa (NOH-uh), having no sacredness / being free of taboo / a blessing, which is used almost exclusively in New Zealand English and so can be considered taken from Maori, though the word is common across Polynesia, including in Tahitian and Hawaiian. Per Wikipedia, "Noa, on the other hand, lifts the tapu from the person or the object. Noa is similar to a blessing ... A new house today, for example, may have a noa ceremony to remove the tapu, in order to make the home safe before the family moves in."

---L.
sovay: (Rotwang)
[personal profile] sovay
This administration has run so hard from the start on leaded fantasies, the presence of a fossil fuel in its latest scream for the headlines seems macabrely apropos. Oil is indeed a lucratively unrenewable resource, but aren't those equally heady fumes of the Banana Wars and Neptune Spear? In my own throwback to the twentieth century, I haven't been able to get Phil Ochs out of my head. It was in another of his songs that I first heard of United Fruit. I live in endless echoes, but I am tired of these threadbare loops of empire that were already sticky shed and vinegar when another fluffer of American exceptional stupidity hung out his banner of a mission very much not accomplished. Is it the Crusades this time or Manifest Destiny? War Plan Red hasn't panned out so far, but we can always rebrand the Monroe Doctrine. Colombia! Cuba! Greenland! Daddy's shadow and Deus vult. "Every generation of Centauri mourns for the golden days when their power was like unto the gods! It's counterproductive! I mean, why make history if you fail to learn by it?" I was thirteen when I heard that line and I understood the question. Who knew I was going to spend the rest of my life finding out just how many people were never even interested in trying?
snowynight: colourful musical note (Default)
[personal profile] snowynight
The cats in my childhood media: Luna & Artemis (Sailor Moon); Garfield, Odie, Arlene & Nermel (Garfield & Friends). They will probably argue that they aren't pets though.

Luna (Sailor Moon)Artemis (Sailor Moon)Garfield, Odie, Arlene & Nermel


two log cabins with snow on the roofs in a wintery forest the text snowflake challenge january 1 - 31 in white cursive text

New Years Book Meme

4 January 2026 08:27 pm
muccamukk: A figure on a dune holding a lamp. Text: "Your word is a lamp." (Christian: Your Word)
[personal profile] muccamukk
From [personal profile] sanguinity:

  1. Grab the nearest book.
  2. Turn to page 126
  3. The 6th full sentence is your life in 2026.

Nearest book is Glitter Blessed: Already Whole, Already Holy edited by Sean Neil-Barron, but it doesn't have 126 pages.

Next nearest book is A Beautiful Year: 52 Meditations on Faith, Wisdom, and Perseverance by Diana Butler Bass, which gives me:

Mark beckons us to a radical Lenten faith—to trust in rainbows even when covered with ash.

Which, given how the year is looking to shape up, is probably accurate. Hopefully accurate?
rachelmanija: (Books: old)
[personal profile] rachelmanija


I picked up this 1969 novel at a library book sale based on its premise. I had never heard of the author. One of the great pleasures of reading, at least for me, is trying random old books I've never heard of. In addition to the possibility that they might be good, they're also an interesting window into other times. (Often, alas, extremely racist and sexist times.)

Sixteen people, eight women and eight men, who were on a flight to London, wake up in plastic boxes on a short strip of road with a hotel, a grocery store, and two cars without engines. Everything else is a forest. Naturally, most of the women scream, faint, and cry, while most of the men randomly fight each other (!), or run around yelling. Our hero does this:

Russell Grahame, feeling oddly detached from the whole absurd carnival, ran his left hand mechanically and repeatedly through his hair in the characteristic manner that had earned him the sobriquet Brainstroker among his few friends in the House of Commons.

He then goes to the hotel, finds the bar, and has a drink. Everyone else eventually follows him, and he fixes them all drinks. They are a semi-random set of passengers, including two husband and wife couples, plus three young female domestic science students, one Indian, and one West Indian girl improbably named Selene Bergere. I have no idea why that name is improbable, but it's remarked on frequently as unlikely and eventually turns out to not be her real name (but everyone goes on calling her Selene, as she prefers it.) They can all understand each other despite speaking different languages.

Russell takes charge and appoints himself group leader. They find food (and cigarettes) at the market, select hotel rooms, and then the husband-and-wife physics teachers point out that 1) the constellations are not Earth's, 2) gravity is only 2/3rds Earth's and they can all jump six feet in the air! Astonishing that none of the others noticed before. I personally would have immediately run outside and fulfilled my lifelong dream of being able to do weightless leaping. Sadly none of them do this and the low gravity is never mentioned again.

They theorize that possibly they've been kidnapped by aliens, maybe for a zoo or experiment, and the gender balance means they're supposed to breed. Russell approvingly notes that many of the single people pair up immediately, and three of them threesome-up. This is like six hours after they arrived!

On the second night, one of the three female domestic science students kills herself because she feels unable to cope. The next day, a party goes exploring (Russell reluctantly allows women to take part as the Russian woman journalist reminds him that women are different from men but have their own strength) and one of the men falls in a spiked pit and dies. Good going, Russell! Three days and you've already lost one-eighth of your party!

All the supplies they take are replenished, and one of the men spies on the market and sees metal spiders adding more cartons of cigarettes. He freaks out and tries to kill himself.

I feel like a random selection of sixteen people ought to be slightly less suicidal, even under pressure. In fact probably especially under a sort of pressure in which everyone has quite nice food and shelter, and they seem perfectly safe as long as they don't explore the forest.

One of the guys tries to capture a spider robot, but gets tangled up in the wire he used as a trap and dragged to death. Again, this group is really not the best at survival.

We randomly get some diary entries from a gay guy who's sad that no one else is gay. He confesses to Russell that he's gay and Russell, in definitely his best moment, just says, "Wow, that must be really hard for you to not have any sexual partners here." Those are the only diary entries we get, and none of this ever comes up again.

They soon find that there are three other groups. One is a kind of feudal warrior people from a world that isn't earth where they ride and live off deer-horse creatures. Another is Stone Age people, who dug the spiked pits to hunt for food. The third are fairies. The language spell allows them all to communicate, except no one can speak to the fairies as they just appear for an instant then vanish. The non-fairy groups confirm that they were also vanished from where they come from.

Russell and his now-girlfriend Anna the Russian journalist theorize that the fairies are the ones who kidnapped them. They and a Stone Age guy set out to find the fairies...

And then chickens save the day! )

So, was this a good book? Not really. Did anyone edit it? Doubtful. Did it have some interesting ideas and a good twist? Yes. Did I enjoy the hour and a half I spent reading it? Also yes. Would I ever re-read it? No. Do I recommend it? Only if you happen to also find it at a library book sale.

I am now 2 for 2 in reviewing every full length book I read in 2026! (I have not yet gotten to one manga, Night of the Living Cat # 1, and six single-issue comics, three each of Roots of Madness and They're All Terrible.) I think doing so will be good for my mental health and possibly also yours, considering what I and you could be doing on the internet instead of reading books and writing or reading book reviews.

Can I continue this streak??? Are you enjoying it?

Rain, Tree Cleanup

4 January 2026 10:26 am
ranunculus: (Default)
[personal profile] ranunculus
It is still raining.  Our total here at the house is 15.75 inches.  It rained heavily overnight, so the official rainfall total is lacking that information, but it is at 18. 16.  That measurement is taken from the valley floor some 400 feet below us. There is often a difference in measurement, which is very distressing in drought years, and much less so in a year like this where we have 137% of normal at the moment.  That is just over 1/2 the normal rainfall for the year.  January and especially February are the months we usually get the most rain.  It looks like it will be a really soggy year. 
This summer we cut down several trees along the power lines.  No cleanup was done after the trees were on the ground because it was dry enough that running a chainsaw had the potential to start a fire. Not much of a chance, but any chance in these dry summer hills is too much.  Yesterday was cleanup day for three smaller trees. All little blue oaks, the biggest of which was perhaps 35 ft tall and about a foot in diameter at the base.  All three are now chopped up into firewood and stacked next to the road.  I'd like to get the other two, similar sized trees cut up today and a tarp over the wood.  The wood had a chance to dry during the summer, if it is protected from more rain it will be good firewood next winter.  It is getting critical that I sharpen chainsaw chains... 
The current mystery is where the fence tester is that should live at the Red Barn.  It has vanished. 

Arne in January

4 January 2026 01:54 pm
puddleshark: (Default)
[personal profile] puddleshark
Arne in January 1

Met up with C. and her terrier for a walk by the harbour at Arne in the January sunshine. The water silver, still as glass. Cormorants and grebes performing vanishing tricks through a mirror.

I didn't get any good photos, but the light was gorgeous - you cannot take light for granted in January - and the harbour was very quiet, just the calling of the wading birds, or the splash of a rower passing by. Afterwards, coffee and cake at the café, sitting outside, the terrier curled in C.s lap, half-dozing in the sun, waking just enough to grumble halfheartedly at other dogs passing by.

Read more... )

More snow

4 January 2026 12:03 pm
cmcmck: (Default)
[personal profile] cmcmck
The forecast was for snow later this afternoon but it has already hit us!


More pics )

not yet reading

3 January 2026 06:44 pm
thistleingrey: (Default)
[personal profile] thistleingrey
A web search, its results no doubt infested with sloppy attempts to gain page views, indicates that if I like reading (some of) Ann Cleeves's novels, I would also like the work of

Louise Penny
Elly Griffiths
Richard Osman
Tana French
Kate Ellis
Val McDermid
Kia Abdullah

I'm happy to wade through a novel or two apiece, but if anyone has thoughts on these, I'm interested! Any writers you'd add? (ETA Janice Hallett has been suggested in the comments.)

I've bounced off the first two French titles, some years ago (though I may try her newer setting). McDermid seems more thriller-angled somehow. Isn't Abdullah known for tense courtroom scenes?

Perhaps relevant: I don't love Cleeves's work and have bounced off at least three of her novels, but (this is positive!) her fiction has reliably been just interesting enough, just intricate enough, to feel soothing when I'd like not to be surprised much by a novel. To me, her stories emphasize humans and their places. I prefer the Matthew Venn sequence to Vera Stanhope or Jimmy Perez because Venn makes the investigations almost an ensemble effort---trickier to write, perhaps.
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
I thought I outgrew this behavior a good two decades ago, but I guess illegal wars really get my dander up.

The conversation, such as it was, was long and pointless, but it did have this amusing, paraphrased exchange:

Them: I didn't say that you should say "ones of them", I just said that even though it sounds wrong it's technically grammatical! Go to ChatGPT, it'll tell you the same thing!

Me: No, it won't, here's the screenshot.

Them: Well! That doesn't count because it doesn't cite a rule! I did check before posting that you should go to ChatGPT, you know!

(They spontaneously claimed elsewhere that they understand the idea of descriptivist linguistics, but I think they don't understand how much of language has yet to be described, even in very well-studied languages like English.)

"Mr. Rowl" so far

3 January 2026 05:27 pm
muccamukk: Alan, holding a glass of brandy and gesturing broadly, attempts to summarise Scottish history. (Kidnapped!: Let Me Sum Up)
[personal profile] muccamukk
I needed a novel to round out my holiday reading, so I picked up "Mr. Rowl" by D.K. Broster (who wrote part of the Gay Jacobite Extended Universe). I'd read a couple reviews, but they were long enough ago that I remembered the following:

1. There are no gay Jacobites.
2. Because it's set during the Napoleonic War.
3. One of the characters (Raoul des Sablière) is a French officer who is a prisoner of war in England.
4. Everyone is very worried about their honour.
5. Readers of my acquaintance ship the French prisoner with an English dude.
6. The ladies are cool.

So I go into the book and immediately meet Raoul, and start looking for whoever I'm supposed to ship him with.

I meet Sir Francis, who is a handsome English Lord who Does Not Like Raoul. This seems like it's probably who I'm supposed to ship.

Except! Sir Francis is immediately a controlling dick to his fiancée. I have pretty generous shipping goggles, when need be, but I don't think anyone could read Sir Francis as being a controlling dick because he wants to be with Raoul. He's just a dick. He is very worried about his honour, though, so it did seem somewhat likely that he might still be the one.

No, one character being a dick has not slowed fandom down before. But isn't usually 100% my thing. So then I was feeling a little sad that I wasn't going to be into the pairing my friends like.

However, as I got farther into the book, and Sir Francis became even more of a dick, I was like, "This is going to be one hell of a redemption arc!" But also doubt.jpg. Also, also, wow, it's funny to have mostly aligned ships with someone, then have them be ride or die for something that's rapidly turning into a NOTP for me.

Finally, I broke and looked at AO3, and figured out I'm supposed to ship Raoul with some guy who has not yet showed up, as of 20% of the novel.

Which is a relief. Because I quite like Raoul, even if he has the Broster characteristic of being slightly silly about his honour, and he deserves better than Sir Francis, who is a dick.
sovay: (Otachi: Pacific Rim)
[personal profile] sovay
Before the news was overtaken by this latest and gratuitous moving fast and breaking of the world, I discovered that on Boxing Day there had been a three-alarm fire on the working waterfront of Portland's Custom House Wharf. I used to spend a lot of time there with my grandmother. She would buy her fish nowhere but from the Harbor Fish Market, which in the '80's and '90's had the great dried skin of a sturgeon on its wall along with its charts of catches and soundings and a wet-planked floor through which the harbor itself could occasionally be seen lapping in a wrack-green brindle of light. It smelled at once like open water and the clean insides of fish. It was spared the blaze; other addresses were not. Between the icing temperatures and the flashpaper of the buildings, the firefighting efforts sound even more heroic since no one seems to have died, but the damage beyond the total losses of gear and business remains significant. The Maine Coast Fishermen's Association has been taking donations for their support and partnered with a local restaurant toward the same end plus T-shirts. It is a small shoring-up of the world and it matters. "When I say charity, I don't mean, 'I've got a sixpence I don't want. You can have it.' I mean, 'I've got a sixpence I do want. You can still have it.'"

Now It Can Be Revealed

3 January 2026 06:37 pm
moon_custafer: sexy bookshop mnager Dorothy Malone (Acme Bookshop)
[personal profile] moon_custafer
(The story I wrote for Yuletide 2025):
Dog Hamlets (3241 words) by moon_custafer
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lord Peter Wimsey - Dorothy L. Sayers
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Lord Peter Wimsey, Harriet Vane, Mervyn Bunter
Additional Tags: casefic

Going West

3 January 2026 09:03 pm
steepholm: (Default)
[personal profile] steepholm
I'm now back in Bristol, and the duties of 2026 beckon, so I will wrap up my account of my Japan trip quickly. After Onomichi my next stop was Kobe, where I was meeting up with friends: Mitsuko for lunch, Yuka for dinner, and then Ayako and Irina the following day, when we visited the Kitano Ijinkan where Western merchants lived when Kobe was a treaty port after the Meiji restoration.

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We visited two of the Ijinkan houses - ones I recommended, having been to them before: the English house (with its Sherlock Holmes and Alice themes) and the Trick House over the road. It's strange to think that Conan Doyle and Alice Hargreaves (nee Liddell) lie just a few miles apart, in graves in the New Forest - and are also juxtaposed here in such a different context.

2249322495

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Then it was on to Odawara, where I spent Christmas day itself in the warm bosom of the Kodaka family, where three generations had gathered to partake in the sacred Christmas ritual of eating KFC. The little boy, Rui, was particularly charming - going off into another room and calling out "Irasshaimase!" every now and then while people went in and pretended to buy things.

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One great thing about staying there is the view from my bedroom window, at least when the weather is right - as it was on Boxing Day morning.

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Finally, I went back to Tokyo and a couple of nights with Rei (my former tenant) and her husband Shuzo in their flat in Kanda. It was great to catch up with them. And my friend Hiroe took me to a puppet theatre, which has been going since the 1970s, just five minutes' walk from Shinjuku station. There we saw a rendition of an old Slovak folk tale about a mistreated girl who has uncanny encounters with the spirits of the months while out picking strawberries...

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And that was that - back to Bristol, then a quick trip to Brighton to see my brother and ring in the New Year, and now I'm in my own study again for the foreseeable.

In spare moments during this trip I was a) reading the Kalevala with profit and pleasure and b) copying out 200-year-old letters, or rather scans of them. Much more on that in entries yet to come, but I've been making some interesting discoveries of the family history variety.

Butterfly, by Kathryn Harvey

3 January 2026 12:11 pm
rachelmanija: (Books: old)
[personal profile] rachelmanija
My New Year's resolution is to attempt to review every full-length published book that I read this year. We'll see how it goes. For my first full-length read of 2026, which is obviously highly symbolic, I have of course carefully selected a beautifully written novel with deep themes and social importance.

Just kidding! I randomly picked up a trashy beach read novel from the 80s, purchased at a thrift shop, while in the bathroom, got surprisingly engrossed in it, and took it out of the bathroom to read on the sofa. Which, to be fair, is probably symbolic of both the year to come and my reading habits in general.



Above an exclusive men's store on Rodeo Drive there is a private club called Butterfly, where women are free to act out their secret erotic fantasies.

I have a thing for "fancy sex club/brothel with highly-paid sex workers who like their jobs and fulfill your erotic fantasies." So I bought this book (50 cents, at a thrift shop) and actually read it even though it's in a genre I almost never read, which is the fat beach read about rich people's sex lives written in the 1980s.

Butterfly follows three women who patronize the club, Butterfly. It's named for the beautiful little butterfly charm bracelets women wear to the store to identify themselves to the staff as patrons of the club, so they can be whisked upstairs to have their sexual fantasies satisfied (just by men, alas), whether that means recreating a cowboy bar complete with sawdust on the floor to a bedroom where a sexy burglar breaks in to a dinner date where you argue about books, yes really. The women are all accomplished and successful, but have something missing or wrong in their lives: the surgeon can't have an orgasm, the pool designer deals with on the job sexism, and the lawyer is married to an emotionally abusive asshole. Their time at Butterfly leads, whether directly or indirectly, to positive changes in their lives.

Spoilers are almost certainly not what you're expecting. )

This novel, while dealing seriously with some serious topics, is also basically a fun beach read. I read it in winter with a space heater and hot cider, which also works. I'm not sure it converted me to the general genre of 80s beach reads, but I sincerely enjoyed it.

Content notes: Child sexual abuse, child sexual slavery (not at the Butterfly sex club, everyone's a consenting adult there), forced abortion, emotional abuse.

Protest at Times Square at 2pm

3 January 2026 09:44 am
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
There is no chance of me making this one - I just got off of work at 8, and I need to sleep.

But as soon as I figure out what to say I'll be contacting my... my everyone. My congresscritters and anybody else.

Happy New Year!

3 January 2026 08:58 am
oracne: turtle (Default)
[personal profile] oracne
While the church for my choir's New Year's Eve performance was not absolutely jammed, it was pretty full, including the balconies, and judging from comments from friends as I exited through the sanctuary, it was an excellent and meaningful performance. Jean, who used to sing with us, said she had cried through the entire part three. Whoa. It was also special because for one of our regular soprano soloists, Jess, it was her fiftieth performance as a soloist.

Rebecca and Jess are founders of Variant 6, my favorite local small vocal ensemble. Rebecca is on the left, Jess on the right, in gold:


"Laudamus Te" from last year's NYE Bach B Minor Mass.


After the performance, I was too wiped out for dinner; luckily, a bus came pretty quickly. I got home, ate dinner, removed my eye makeup, and crawled into bed. Surprisingly, after my afternoon coffee, I managed to get to sleep fairly soon. I don't recall hearing many fireworks (apparently, someone saved their illegal firecrackers for the night of New Year's Day...a lot of them).

New Year's Day, I had decided our menu was nachos and another small trifle. The nachos had cheese, pre-cooked chicken seasoned with adobo and mild salsa, and spinach. The trifle was in a glass loaf pan: more cinnamon graham crackers for a base, a layer of spiced peaches (from a jar), a thick layer of whipped cream, pumpkin snaps, blueberries, and a drizzle of the sugar syrup from the peaches. It all turned out great!

January 2, I hung out with [personal profile] drinkingcocoa and family.

Today is laundry and more Flight Rising. I have to go back to the dayjob on Monday, so I might do some cooking today or tomorrow as well.

Day of 'faith and luck'

4 January 2026 01:16 pm
shewhomust: (Default)
[personal profile] shewhomust
Yesterday morning we said farewell to D. and [personal profile] valydiarosada who had helped us to see in the New Year: we sent them off into heavily falling snow, but the shower passed, and word came that they had reached home safely.

Unusually for us, we were still up to see the new year arrive. In recent years we have simply ended the evening and gone to bed as usual, but this year, for whatever reason, by the time we looked at our watches it was so close to midnight that we decided to wait. It helped that the BBC has been filling our evenings with Only Connect specials and been filling our evenings with Only Connect specials and the University Challenge alumni edition; and Our Friend the Quizmaster had posted the 'missing' quizzes (while there's a break from the pub quiz) online... So what with this and dinner and the crossword, New Year's Eve just flew by.

On New Year's Day we lunched at the Rose and Crown in Romaldkirk: not the first time that we have chosen this venue to meet D's sister and brother-in-law, as it's halfway between us and them, serves good pub food and welcomes their dog. The drive out was drab and grey, but while we were at lunch the late afternoon sun came out, low but brilliant. It hit the windows of the church (the Kirk, I suppose) so tha the little leaded diamond panes gleamed black and brilliant like splintered coal; it picked out the white farms in the green valleys and gilded the tawny hilltops.

Bedoba )

So that's the year off to a good start. We looked at the snow, which is still lying, and the other things to be done, and decided to skip this morning's farmer' market. But this afternoon we will go to S's Christmas leftovers party, and next week there will be ghost stories at the Lit & Phil, so the festivities are not over yet.

Moonset

3 January 2026 11:34 am
puddleshark: (Default)
[personal profile] puddleshark
Moonset

Had planned to get up early for another expedition down to the coast, but the roads were very icy first thing. Decided I was not brave enough to go far afield, so instead took a sunrise / moonset walk through the forest.

Read more... )

(no subject)

3 January 2026 06:17 am
conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
What the hell did I just see on the news.

2025 game roundup

2 January 2026 09:20 pm
pauraque: Guybrush writing in his journal adrift on the sea in a bumper car (monkey island adrift)
[personal profile] pauraque
In 2025 I posted reviews of 44 games, of which 10 were replays, 1 was a revision of an old review, and 33 were games I hadn't played before.

and here they are )

(I made sure to number them because when I went back to number my book post I realized I had shorted myself four books! It was actually 51!)

My ongoing gaming side-quest is to play games from different countries. This year my new countries were Brazil, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, Greece, Hungary, Iran, Peru, the Philippines, Scotland, Spain, Sweden, and Taiwan, bringing my total to 28. (At least the way I'm counting. I realize that "what is a country?" is a fraught question, but it's also a question that's way above my pay grade so I'm trying not to sweat it for such a low-stakes project.) My list of potential games to play includes 31 more countries. There are still lots and lots that I haven't yet identified a game for, including some seemingly low-hanging fruit, but since I'm keeping it to titles that would be of interest to me outside this project, the search for options can take longer.

My game list is a bit silly right now because I decided to add every game I could remember playing... ever. I love revisiting childhood games, and I enjoy searching for obscure titles and figuring out how to get them to run, so I'm okay with the list just being long. I actually do think it is possible, in principle, for me to review every game I played as a child, while attempting to do the same for books would be totally absurd. I've read a lot more books than I've played games, I started reading at a younger age, and I think I'm much less likely to forget a game than a book simply because I have a strong visual memory. Anyway, for future reference (I know I'll want to know next year) I currently have 280 games on my list.

Of the games I played for the first time in 2025, my favorites include: Until Then, Disco Elysium, Engare, I Did Not Buy This Ticket, The Last Door, and The Drifter.
sovay: (Lord Peter Wimsey: passion)
[personal profile] sovay
The afternoon's mail brought my contributor's copy of Not One of Us #85, containing my poem "The Avalon Procedure." It is the Arthurian one, in debt to and argument with Bryher. It belongs to the outsider issue which kicks off the 'zine's fortieth year of alienation, characteristically incarnated by the short fiction and poetry of Steve Toase, Devan Barlow, Lauren Hruska, and Gwynne Garfinkle among others. The threshold shadow of the cover art by John and Flo Stanton is an excellent advertisement, or harbinger. Pick up a copy or contribute to the strangeness yourself. I remain so glad it sneaked into our reality.

"These clocks are like Time herself. Magnificent edifices, but secretly fragile. In need of constant attention . . . Forgive me. My pet subject, Time." I didn't realize until I opened the jewel case that Sigil (2023) was dedicated to the memory of Murray Melvin: it was his last recording for Big Finish, released posthumously. It starts like a classic M. R. James with a series of weird and hauntological misfortunes attending a three-thousand-year-old bronze bird ever since its ill-omened excavation in the Victorian era and then it twists much more cosmic, with a pure sting of Sapphire & Steel. I can't tell if it was designed as a farewell, but it makes a tantalizing final communiqué from Bilis Manger, a gorgeous, wickedly silken and knowing performance from Melvin whose voice caresses a stone circle because it's "an ancient timepiece" and can put a harvest-withering contempt into a statement like "I've never owned a scatter cushion in my life." There's a sort of promotional interview at the end of the CD, but it poignantly does not include Melvin. The last we hear of him is in definitive character, so much time echoing backward and forward in his voice that was then eighty-nine human years old and still made you think there could be younger barrows, meadows, stars. "What could murder a murder of crows?"

I had no idea about this historical reenactment at Prospect Hill, but I am happy to read of its turnout in the new snow. I have not gotten the sestercentennial onto my mental calendar. I am still not convinced of this decade at all.

Shovel Work, Storm

2 January 2026 02:40 pm
ranunculus: (Default)
[personal profile] ranunculus
Yesterday involved a hike up over Power Pole Hill and then up Fairview Hill.  The goal was to make lots of water bars on the trails in advance of today's storm.  The trails and roads all looked pretty good considering the downpours that have happened this year.  Possibly because  of work done last year and the year before.  Between hiking up, up, up steep hills and shoveling it was a great, extended cardio workout. 
Today the promised storm is moving in. It is windy, starting to rain a bit, and not very pleasant outside so we are sitting by the fireplace in the living room.
I did get lots of canning and storage jars moved up to the attic.  Lots of home canned stuff is getting eaten up, which is good!

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