May 12th, 2013

discworld angels from most-suspicious

"Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre."

Why is there a weather forecast for Rockall if no one lives on it? Naturally I'm pleased that a Canadian moose-lifting winch will aid the gentleman's efforts to do so, but I umm have my doubts? I don't say there's no such thing as a Canadian moose-lifting winch. I don't live in moose country. But Google informs me that there's a brand of winch called Moose- they also make plows- and I strongly suspect that that's what's meant.

Meanwhile, in the 'cast not a clout till May be out' department, it has been hailing all day. Bouncing little ice pellets, yes. Alternating with blinding sun. I feel for all the people who meant to have a backyard BBQ with Mom today in the kind of heat we had last year. But might I say that I actually *really like* this weather?

Finished A Discovery of Witches, which paleaswater says she warned me not to read. Cannot recall her doing so. It's the kind of book that leaves a taste in the mouth; not necessarily a bad taste, but a distinct one, and I think I need to read something else to remove it. So I shall postpone the Marlovian pleasures of Shadow of Night-- which are probably something to my purpose nothing, anyway-- and read oh I don't know. Something without vampires anyway, if I can find it. I suppose that precludes Rosemary and Rue?