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Continued from...

In Poztar, the wood-built capital of Urd, King Hormerath, friend of Blue Wizards, is dying.  Thingolodh of the Falas waits beside him, cheering his last hour with tales of the Great Sea in the West.  Or so he told us later.  Knowing Thingolodh, I'm not sure exactly how cheering that would be, but no doubt Hormerath was excited about going beyond the Circles of the World and discovering what comes next for Mortal Men, so he probably didn't mind too much.

The lords and notables of Urd come riding into Poztar, in preparation for the meeting of the Wiatt : the body that will choose the next king of Urd.

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You thought that was it?  You thought, how can there be more of this stuff?  Well, there is....

Laid low their towers and houses frail

Continued from...

In the cold winter evening, we came cautiously down the old road that runs across the marshy land of Raku.  Snow was lying on the ground and the wind cut fiercely.  The journey was long, but fortunately uneventful.  Here we are one evening, all huddled around a fire.

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There still seems to be a lot of plot left.  To be continued!  

The Hunting of the Earl of Rone

I have to admit to scepticism about this.   I grew up in North Devon from 1982, and lived two parishes away from Combe Martin.  North Devon is not a place where a lot happens.  We visited Combe Martin regularly.  We read the local paper, in fact we read both of them, even when the main story was about a goose or something.

The Hunting of the Earl of Rone strikes me as exactly the sort of event that would have been made up as an elaborate leg-pull for grokels, along the lines of the ancient rural practice of signpost-twirling, and the sign that fell down and was replaced by a neat not-quite-replica that read 'Wheretheellarewe', and hence went unnoticed by the local council for a couple of years.

But maybe it's real, and I just didn't notice it. Or maybe it began as a joke, and somehow took on reality. 
Last year around this time, we went on holiday to Middle Earth in the Second Age, and there wrought many mighty deeds.  But there was much still to do, and we still hadn't found Sauron -  so last week we resumed operations in the distant lands far to the East of the Sea of Rhun.

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Ginormous foster-lurcher (not jackal)

He was very stressed when he arrived and I spent most of last night trying to stop him barking constantly and whining miserably, but today he is much happier.   He is 12, and needs a new home because his owner has family medical issues that make dog ownership impractical. He was called Elvis, but Pp decided he looked like a jackal, and named him Carlos.  He doesn't seem to answer to either name so it's not much odds really.

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Unexpectedly awesome thing is awesome

We bought tickets ages ago to see a Fleetwood Mac tribute band (Fleetwood Bac by name) down at the Minack Theatre, which is a cliff-side theatre down at the far West end of Cornwall.  Yesterday lunchtime, as the cold rain sleeted down and the wind wailed, this felt like a really bad idea.   But the Minack seemed to think that things were not quite so awful at their end of the county, although the rain splodges on the webcam were not encouraging.  So, we (chainmailmaiden, pwibethran, pp and me)  gritted our teeth, resolved to be British and Not Put Off By a Spot of Rain,  and set off.Read more...Collapse )


Actually, this isn't an entirely random mine because I actually went looking for this one.   I had hoped that I might find some bluebells in the woods too, but it turned out that something rather terrible had happened to quite a bit of the wood...
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There was a change to the law recently which said that all dogs in the UK must be microchipped, and that the microchip record must contain the details of the current owner.  This came as a nasty surprise to the many dog rescues which had been keeping all the dogs they rehomed, microchipped with their own details, and consequently had thousands of dogs microchipped with one set of contact details - but the law was well overdue.

Dog rescues (in my opinion, and I have some experience with them) typically do not have the internal data management systems in place to keep in touch with all their adopters, let alone being able to update the contact records when the new owners move or go on holiday.Read more...Collapse )Read more...Collapse )

Impressive Tulips

Rosie Roo, expressing her surprise that the tulips which came from a bag labelled 'Yellow Tulips' have come up out a clear flame-red.


To Dartmoor, randomly.

Despite the terrible weather promised inevitably by a British Bank Holiday, I had agreed to meet my mother at Two Bridges.  To Two Bridges we went, therefore, and were greeted, to the joy of the hounds, by the return of blue skies.    And Rosie got some left-over scone while we were drinking tea at the Two Bridges hotel, which pleased her.

I keep forgetting how close Dartmoor is.  I must make the effort to drive the extra 10 minutes or so more often.
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