Ropography 2.26.25

Standing on a hill in a mountain of dreams

Inputs

The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett: The first in a series set in 15somethingish Scotland. Kind of like Game of Thrones but no magic, plus a dash of the Mawwiage priest in The Princess Bride. Here, someone who has recently been injured in the mouth during battle tries to press on while clinging to a scrap of dignity:

Fifteen labourerth dithappeared during the work at Roxthburgh: four Thpanith bombardierth and twelve pikemen climbed the wallth and gone home. If I could, I’d do it mythelf. No beer: not enough food. How can I thtaff garrithonth without gold and thupplieth? And how do they think they can get thupplieth to uth when winter thetth in? Hell and perdithion!” said Lord Grey, goaded to fury by the unfair stings of Fortune. “Ith there no word in the Englith language wanting an Eth?

I could use a juicy series to sink into. Will I be among those who say “I have Dunnett” and push through the rest? I lost track of the plot pretty much immediately but the main character is a lot of fun and it’s overall a good hang, so perhaps. Bring me the FX limited series, cowards!

Outputs

Instead of convent lace I went to convent knitting. No one was there to learn anything or have a meditative experience. It was mostly nuns and they were there to crank out charity hats and chitchat. Comparing run-ins with the very exasperating parking garage at the Newton Stop and Shop. They reminisced about the dreaded needlepoint they were given for “recreation” on Saturday nights when they were novices. “You know who made us do it, it was…” “Titus?” “Oh, her, HMM WELL” said several in response. The nuns who had joined a few years later got guitars instead.

They had all been teachers. They are stressed about recent events. “Just try to remember how good it felt when Nixon resigned!” someone said. Can I just hang out here in this man-free citadel of do-goooderism, eating cookies and doing arts and crafts for, like, a while? I won't, I love HBO and buying things too much. But always the thought of the squandered chance, where we (everyone)

would all be if women could have gotten full custody of the Church when it divorced itself from relevance. This world of needlepoint and the jewel tones blazers for Easter, it's not going away but it will turn into something else. Which of its flaws will remain (or worse) and what good will be unreplaced when that happens?

Condiment Corner

Ebisuya was having a sale but, try as I might, I could not find a single Packet saving this one that I could actually eat. It is mackerel in a rather watery lemon sauce that I ate more or less as pictured. I added butter and parsley. I’ve eaten sadder meals with greater effort, but like Lord Grey above I was made to feel keenly aware of my physical limitations.