Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum.

- Graycie Harmon
Showing posts with label Rest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rest. Show all posts

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Happily Resting

This week and last week were hectic at best. Now with everything more or less settled, I can relax a bit. I'm doing this to day by listening obsessively to The Piano Guys. If you've never heard of them (their vidoe Cello Wars went viral a fortnight ago), here are two of my favourite songs they've released:


And my favourite-est ever (sigh):


Ahhhh..... I heart them so much. Honestly, it's an addiction. I can't stop listening to them. Luckily, I don't have to.

On that note (pun only marginally intended), I'm going to sit back and listen to beautiful music, and probably do some Beta Reading.

Have a great Thursday all!

Kissing-Bunch

A bush of evergreens sometimes substituted for mistletoe at Christmas.
- Thomas Wright's Dictionary of Obsolete and Provincial English, 1857

The old "kissing bunch" is still hung in some of the old-fashioned cottage houses of Derbyshire and Cornwall - two wooden hoops, one passing through the other, decked with evergreen, in the centre of which is hung a "crown" of rosy apples and a sprig of mistletoe. This is hung from the central beam of the living-room, and underneath it is much kissing an romping. Later on, the carol singers stand beneath it and sing God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen.
- Peter Ditchfield's Old English Customs, 1901

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Waving Back.

Hi Jen! Thanks for following.

There is absolutely nothing interesting going on right now. The last night in the training week is tonight. I'm so covered in bruises I look like I have some strange skin-eating disease. I haven't written anything in a whole day.

And it's fraying on my nerves a little. I might be a little OCD when it comes to writing. But I shall endeavour to give myself the time I need to properly rest up. I'll probably start writing again soon, though.

Since there is so very little to note, I'll let you all get on with your day then, shall I?

Catlings

The strings of a violin or lute, they being formerly made of the intestines of a cat and usually called cat-gut. Shakespeare's Troilys and Cressida.
- William Toone's Etymological Dictionary of Obsolete Words, 1831

Stringed instruments.
- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1893

... I'm pretty sure I've seen on Qi that violin strings weren't made of cat gut at all - it was a myth started by violin makers who wanted to keep their secrets. I'm not certain though, so I'll have to double check and get back to you.