Robin McKinley's Blog, page 177

Stephen Sondheim

 

This really is going to be Short Monday because I've just spent the last two hours* cruising the web for Sondheim music clips.  Of which there are lots, but very few of them are anything I'm looking for**—and furthermore way too many of them are students practising for their vocal finals and . . . not all of them are going to pass. 

Everybody knows who Stephen Sondheim is, right?   http://sondheimsociety.webs.com/aboutstephensondheim.htm  I feel that not knowing who Stephen Sondheim is would ...

Sunny Spring Sunday*

 

I am not sleeping very well lately** so 8 a.m. was earlier this morning than it sometimes is.***  It was one of those 'remind me about clothing' mornings.  I can build dangerously strong cups of tea in my coma, but getting dressed is harder.  All that fine motor control.  Also I like clothing.  This means that if I finish waking up several hours later and discover that my earrings don't match† and furthermore that pink does not go with that green aaaaaugh I will be deeply unhappy.  I try to ...

Guest Post by Bratsche

Concert

We've had guest posts about making a variety of things, including yarn (delicious for the eyes and hands), cakes (just plain delicious!), and pottery (fascinating, long process), so here's one about assembling a solo* viola recital.  

It's a fairly short list of ingredients: viola, violist, sheet music, pianist, performance hall (with piano), recital date, concert outfit, invitations, and audience. 

The last recital I gave was 12 years ago (funny what getting married and having kids...

Tea and Bell Ringing

 

Oisin was glad to see me today.  I brought tea. 

            There have been kind of a lot of Fridays this winter when I have crawled to my piano lesson on my metaphorical hands and knees and curled up (metaphorically) under the piano* rather than playing it.  There's usually some accessory whimpering.  I don't remember when Oisin started offering me a cup of tea, but I'm afraid the cup of tea** has now become rather standard, and last week when he didn't offer me one—I think we were...

Don't Annoy the Writer

 

I tweeted last night that Fiona, who was here again yesterday*, had brought me the best tote bag ever.  Isn't it wonderful?  I ask you, was this designed for meeeee or what?

            I do however like the idea that cranky authors are enough of a commonplace that it is worthwhile to create tote bags on the subject.**  Although the fear does linger that this is more about the myth of The Writer than it is about the truth . . . or that if it's the truth, the perceiver of said truth has left o...

Guest post by Mrs Redboots

Cooking Fat and Drain Cleaner

Whenever anybody asks me how I make soap, my invariable response is, "Oh, it's just cooking fat and drain cleaner". Which is absolutely true, and it never ceases to amaze me how just a few common items can become wonderful soap.

I usually make soap twice a year, in April and October*, and usually make goats' milk soap and lavender soap, because they're my favourites. This lot, however, was made as barter for a friend, who is making me a new skating dress in...

Blondel

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  BLONDEL HAS APPLIED FOR A JOB IN CANTERBURY/YORK/WESTMINSTER/THE OTHER FRELLING SIDE OF THE FRELLING WORLD!  HIS WIFE AND I BOTH HOPE HE DOESN'T GET IT! *

            The shock was apparently good for me in the immediate present however**.  I actually produced one or two notes that were not totally embarrassing, which is nearly a first.***  Of course Blondel's exercises merely get sillier:  to assist me in not collapsing he had me doing that...

Peachy karma

 

 As minor bad karma goes, today was a peach. 

            My PEGASUS proof corrections were due today. 

            This deserves a solemnising blank space.  And maybe some centring.  Maybe even some colour.

My PEGASUS proof corrections were due today. 

            Yes.  That dog-eared, grease-marked, red-penned, haphazard pile of pages was supposed to be tidied up into neat rows of rectification that, you know, other people could make sense of, by the end of the working day today.

           ...

A Drama in Eight Photos

 

It's all Maren's fault.*  Because I don't keep track.**  And if this crucial fragment of my future had been left up to me I would have found out about it when there were only three unsold pairs left in the universe, two of them size three and one size twelve.  Whereupon I would have had to twist my own head off with my own hands*** in despair.

            I'm actually still amazed that it worked.  I couldn't believe it when I found a site in England that listed them and claimed to have them i...

Guest Blog by Ithilien*

Learning Mandarin 

I've been writing this guest blog for months,** but it suddenly began to come together this month. (Finally!) The story starts with one of those virtuous New Year's resolutions.

We were sitting in a cabin on an isolated island off the coast. And we'd brought The Blue Sword with us, since it's one of my reliable travel books. (That is, I can read it over and over again and I've read it so many times that I can dip in and out of it and instantly know what's happening, rather...