Archive for January, 2004

Marmalade and Perseverance

Tuesday, January 27th, 2004

I made marmalade yesterday, according to a theory of my own which has turned out particularly well. Everyone who makes marmalade at all, as far as I can see, develops a theory of their own about which they become evangelistic. Germaine Greer once gave me her recipe, assuring me at a characteristic 80 decibels or […]

A List of London

Tuesday, January 20th, 2004

Things which I brought back with me to the Deep North from a recent visit to the Smoke, in no particular order, mostly gifts, some purchases.
A gold ring set with a Hellenistic intaglio of clasped hands (on my finger where it remains, and will remain); two Sassanianian intaglios on lapis set in silver; a recording […]

Eighty-five per cent

Sunday, January 18th, 2004

We have been rather quiet for a while now, for a variety of reasons, including all having colds one after another. But also, it has also been remarkably difficult to use the computer. The Lady Novelist’s modem was struck by lightning over the New Year (fourth this year, comes of having overland power cables, apparently) […]

The pursuit of knowledge

Wednesday, January 7th, 2004

I was just rummaging about on the Web looking for information about the Killigrew family in the 16th and 17th centuries. They were a Cornish family (the castle overlooks Falmouth Bay as I remember, because Henry Scott Tuke painted it) with four singularly tedious habits, at least when taken together: they were clever and tended […]

Happy New Year. Magari.

Thursday, January 1st, 2004

Like Rogue Semiotics, we are suffering from computers. You would think that they had contrived to stumble out and celebrate in their own way; they’re all acting hung over. But it would be very difficult for them from here — a couple of rash friends decided to first-foot the Geordie Embassy and ended up at […]