Robin McKinley's Blog, page 197

Guest post by Bratsche

How Does One Become a Violist? 

When I was in high school, I never thought of myself as a passionate person, which made me very puzzled when people who knew me well confidently declared that I was.  I have since discovered that they were right, and that there are some things in life about which I care very, very deeply indeed.  Most of those things seem to have snuck up on me (shhh…she's not looking…GET HER!).  My music certainly fits in that category.  

So, how does one become a professional v...

Handbell Wedding Two

 

We got there so disgracefully early* that Niall made us ring her in.  I could be reading proofs!  I said.  (Of course I brought them with me.  Weddings always run late.**)  Niall is the reincarnation of Genghis Khan and Simon Legree.***

            Then I read proofs.†

            Then we went and hung around the church door until people started coming out, and then we rang some more.  And some more.  And some more.  And more.††  And . . .

            And then I went and accosted some...

In Which I Totally Lose Control of My Footnotes

 

 . . . But I am under terrible stress.  The Second Frelling Handbell Wedding is tomorrow.   There are of course one or two other contributing factors* to the stress level.**   But right at the moment, twelve hours*** before Colin swings by to pick Niall and me up† I am chiefly focussed on the fact that I have to ring handbells in public tomorrow.  For a wedding!  For somebody's Momentous Life Event!  Crumbs and cockatoos.  I keep remembering, years ago now, when Niall and Esme were first...

Nnnnnnnnng

 

. . . Which is actually one of your vocal-exercise noises–to help position your voice in your 'mask' ie all your nice echoy head sinuses–but in this case has to do with someone noticing that it seems to be past one o'clock in the morning and she's sure she only got back from bell ringing about half an hour ago.  How time flies when you have your head down over your unfinished novel which is due in about three weeks.*

 

Hellhounds wondering how to get any action in this house.  You know here...

Pupdate – 4 months

by B-Twin

It's hard to believe the little black and white slugs are now 4 months old.

All the ones that I wanted to sell all found new homes – and I have been hearing some very good feedback about them too*.

But I only have pictures of the two I kept (Bramble and Brighid).  Getting them to stand still was … tricky. LOL

Proud mother and her girls

Bramble

Tweet

 

It's almost midnight* and I haven't started writing tonight's blog entry.  I've been burning on with PEGASUS, of course.  And I started on it late today because . . . I had my voice lesson.  Ahem.  In spite of PEGASUS and the relentless approach of 8 October.  I have been telling myself since the weekend—since Saturday or Sunday night, while tweeting, I mean singing**, my exercises***—that I should frelling cancel my voice lessons till I get dranglefabbing PEGASUS done.†  I mean, I've only b...

Another Tale of Bells

 

 Bells are either keeping me sane, or helping me over the edge.  Or both.  Ding dong.

            We had a wedding yesterday.  Sunday weddings are no one's favourite—well, the St Paul's or York Minster band may love weddings, because they just dust off their Superlative Surprise Number Two Maximus* and ring a quarter peal.  Down here among the grubs, if we're going to ring all eight**, we're probably ringing call changes.  On a very good day we might have a Grandsire Triples band*** . . ...

Miracle

 

Okay, guys.  Listen up.  I need a miracle.  Anyone got one you're not using?   Out in the garage, up in the attic, in a shoebox under the bed?

            About thirty seconds ago, in a final death-defying sprint of several thousand words over the last two days, I finished the third draft of PEGASUS.  (I am therefore also blind, deaf, dumb, stupid, and crazy.  Just so you know.)   This ought to be great news. 

            It would have been great news either—say—the end of June, or if it were ...

Guest Post by Ajlr

Staying in Trim 

Ever wondered how the captain of a big loaded cargo or passenger aircraft knows that it will be able to take off – that is, that the lift given by the wings and other aerodynamic surfaces at take-off speed is greater than the force of gravity holding it on the ground? Or why it doesn't either topple onto its nose, or one wing, or drag its tail in the dust? It's all to do with the payload and 'trim' – and by that I don't mean what colour the seat cushions are. 

Many years ago I ...

September 11

 

I have just been looking back to September 11 last year to see if I was going to be repeating myself tonight and . . . I'm not.  Last September 11 I talked about board games.  I remember that post* but what I don't remember is why I decided not to say anything about the anniversary.  Too personal?  Too sombre?  Too political?  I suppose the blog's brief has expanded a bit.  September 11:  the day the world changed for Americans.  Perhaps I was thinking about it more in the front, blog-topic ...