Reporting in With the Morning Check

Yup, you read that right.

Well, this weekend proved wonderful. After all the stress.

You see, my most amazing flatmate in the world agreed a couple of weeks ago to drive me down to Montréal to pick up my brother and bring him to Ottawa, where he'll be staying until he gets a job.

Naturally, things went bust.

We went to see The Muppets Thursday night with friends. Thanks to T.H. for organising it, by the by. It was a great movie. We laughed liked crazy. Then, as we climbed into the car to head back, Jazz noticed a flat tyre. The front driver's side tyre was shot. We crawled down Bank St. towards the mechanic's at forty, then ten, the car sounding terrible, leaning heavily to the left.

Thinking that the shop would replace the tyre relatively inexpensively, we walked home not terribly worried.

Well, didn't I arrive home Friday after work to Jazz' words of greeting, "Don't freak out."

I freaked out.

We suddenly didn't have a car. Apparently, in addition to the flat tyre (which was replaced relatively cheaply), the car was leaking power-steering fluid. Replacing the necessary part put the repairs at something like $2 000.00. Yup. That's $2 000.00 neither of us very broke people had to spare.

Jazz' explained that she had to go to Montréal tomorrow and asked them to do a quick-fix. They said they'd try. Three blocks from the apartment, not even ten minutes away from the shop, the power-steering failed.

We had no car for Saturday.

Desperate to keep our word to my brother, we texted and called as many people as we could.

To the rescue, A.G. flew in with a car we could use. That girl deserves a cape and a badge. Honestly.

We now had a car.

The rest of the weekend went fairly smoothly. We picked up my brother, went to the Ruby Rouge in Chinatown for a Yum Cha lunch (Dim Sum), then headed home again. Then off we went to the Little Lamb Mongolian Hot Pot for dinner with Dad, transferred to bags over and sent Chris off to stay with Dad for a bit.

Then we slept. Yay, sleep!

So, a massive thanks to both A.G. and J.M-B. for their efforts Saturday. You both rock the Casbah.

Sunday was, thankfully, much more quiet. I met a friend for lunch and that was the entirety of the day.

Now I'm at work, falling desperately behind in my NaNoWriMo efforts because the computer took 3 hours to load properly. Go team.

I have to go and start writing, or I'll never make my daily 3 000. Wish me luck! I'm so going to need it today.

Bedfellow

The simplicity of ancient manners made it common for men, even of the highest rank, to sleep together; and the term bedfellow implied great intimacy. Lord Scroop is said to have been bedfellow to Henry V [as found in Shakespear's Henry V]:

Nay, but the man was his bedfellow,

Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with kingly favours.

After the battle of Dreux, in 1562, the prince of Condé slept in the same bed with the duke of Guise, an anecdote frequently cited to show the magnanimity of the latter, who slept soundly, though so near his greatest enemy, then his prisoner. Letters from noblemen to each other often began with the appellation bedfellow.

- Robert Nares' Glossary [of] the Works of English Authors, 1859

This unseemly custom continued common till the middle of the last century.

- Rev. T.F. Thiselton-Dyer's Folk-Lore of Shakespeare, 1884

Surely this isn't forgotten? Am I the only one who uses 'They make strange bedfellows.'?

This Computer...

There are very few things in this world that I actually hate. This computer is one of them. Piece of crap contraption!

I pressed the power button at 9am. It is now 11am and I'm only getting to writing this post now. That's how long this monster took to load.

ARGH!

I was seriously debating on beginning The Great Man, the sixth and final instalment of The Great Man series today. But thanks to this stupid beast of a machine, that's gone out the window. So I'll just listen to my music and daydream in preparation for writing tomorrow.

The story is literally starting to claw its way out of my head, so I guess I'd better put it on paper/digital paper.

If this computer will work.

Stupid machine.

This weekend was, thankfully, much better than this morning. Saturday saw the resumption of Lion Dance, which was nice. It's always fun with that group. In the evening, I met my Dad for a movie and a meal. We saw Killer Elite, which was fun. And we ate spicy Chinese, because I was craving spicy food. Mm-mm, yummy!

Sunday I went once more with K.R. for the final hike of the season. We did the 'Wolf' loop in the Gatineaus. It was incredible fun, and combined the best of the previous two hikes - waterfalls and brooks and spectacular views of Gatineau Park, wearing her autumnal vestments. So beautiful.

It was wonderful, and I'm very please to have hiked that trail. It's definitely my new favourite.

Right, well, there's stuff to do this morning, and I'm running late thanks to this stupid, stupid, stupid computer.

Hope you all have a wonderful Monday.

Thruffing

The whole matter.

- Jabez Good's Glossary of East Lincolnshire, 1900

In the phrase, "to know the whole thruffing of anything," to know all about it. Thruffish, thoroughly well. "Thruffish, thank you." Lincolnshire, Thruffable, open throughout; figuratively, transparently honest and sincere; a person capable of being "seen through." North Yorkshire.

- Joseph Wright's English Dialect Dictionary, 1898-1905

A Wedding, an Anniversary and a ... Funeral?

This weekend was jam-packed.

On the 24th, my beautiful eldest sister had her birthday. Without a computer at home, I wasn't able to wish her a happy birthday until today...

It also happened to be my dear friend, D.P.'s wedding. It was a beautiful wedding, simple and elegant, with a reverend who had a phenomenal sense of humour and often broke into song, and a intimate reception full of laughter and dancing. It really was a fabulous time. I met some lovely people that weekend, and I do hope that we stay in touch.

I am so glad that D.P. has found someone with as much wit and warmth as S.S. and I truly hope that they live long, fulfilling lives together.

And that's as sentimental as you're likely to find me.

Sunday the 25th saw an anniversary of the Hung Men Association here in Ottawa. Yes, I'm aware what that name implies. Yes, I've laughed hysterically at it already. But that doesn't mean you get to. Bear in mind, it's a Chinese association. There was a delicious Chinese lunch to attend... which I did, and gladly.

So you know, the Hung Men (or Heng Mun?) Association has very kindly allowed Wutan Canada the use of their facilities and equipment for our Lion Dance troupe.

Sunday afternoon, I returned home to have a nice long nap. Then I woke to clean house in anticipation of J.M-B.'s return. She's been in Boston for the better part of a week and a half. Before I swept, I decided to take another little break, and ended up snoozing on the couch in the living room.

Where I had the most horrifying day-dream (alright, it was night, but I was still conscious - and, one would have thought, therefore able to better control what happened in said dream). Two of my Kung Fu brothers (one my good friend, K.C.) were involved in this dream. Poor K.C. got the worst of it, and was killed. In front of me. After I had saved him from another life-threatening danger.

The dream had me in such a state, I was sobbing when the door opened and J.M-B. walked in. I had sobbed so hard, in fact, that the pillow on which my head rested was very, very wet with tears. When I tried to relate the dream to J.M-B., I started crying again.

I might need therapy.

Needless to say, I'll be writing that day-dream down. It is going to make the most depressing short story I've ever written... and that's saying something!

Speaking of writing, I didn't do any of it last week... and I didn't enjoy it at all. Taking time off is overrated. I say this every time, I realise.

I'm still not ready to face The Great Man yet. There's a whole lot of grief and angst and pain that I don't think I can deal with just yet in that book. Though, to be honest, I'll be glad when the series is finally written and I can leave it well behind me. Still, I should get back to writing again, so today I think I'll write that horrifically depressing short story, though not before I judge these other short stories I ought to be judging.

I also realise, that when I stop writing, my brain goes to the dogs. I realise that, for the second week in a row, I've forgotten the weekend Forgotten English. So, again, today you all get a two-for-one special.

Backend

They sometimes say the backend of the week, but latter end is more common.

- Rev. Alfred Easther's Glossary of the Dialect of Almondbury and Huddersfield, 1883

Late autumn; Cumbria.

- Alexander Gibson's Folk-Speech of Cumberland, 1880

The later part of a season.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

Backendish, rough and wintry, generally applied to the weather.

- Rev. M.C.F. Morris' Yorkshire Folk-Talk, 1892

Ronyon

From the French rogne, the scab or scurf. A term of contempt, applied to a female, as "scurvy fellow" was similarly applied to a male, and both derived from the same French origin, and neither having particular reference to size. "Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries." Macbeth.

- William Toone's Etymological Dictionary of Obsolete Words, 1831

The male [sex] organ.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1914.

The Cycle Starts Anew

And so it is that another summer has flown away. I know that technically, the summer doesn't end for another fortnight, but up past the 49th parallel, the days have cooled and the leaves have already started to turn. The geese sound their melancholic farewells as they fly overhead, seeking warmer climes.

I find this time of year strangely invigorating. Autumn is by far my favourite season (not least of all because Hallowe'en falls at the tail-end of this season). This weekend, I celebrated Autumn in style - by beginning everything again.

I attended my first Lion Dance practice in a couple of months. My injuries and general disposition preventing me from attending. The same can be said of my Martial Arts training. With the exception of my Equestrian Martial Arts, I did not attend much of the summer session of training. I was finding coping with that many people to be terribly taxing, and my injured feet were really hurting... I just couldn't do it.

Now, I feel rested, my feet are better... mostly... and I'm prepared to face the world again.

Also, in celebration of the season, and of starting afresh, I signed up for violin lessons. They were to start last Friday, but the teacher had to go out of town, so my first lesson will be this Friday instead. I am eager to get started. I've always wanted to learn to play the violin.

Saturday saw me recommencing reading - something I tend not to do when I'm buried in a project. Now that I have started again, I wonder why I ever stopped! I do so love reading! I am currently on the last few chapters of The Portrait of Dorian Gray. I will have a review of that up soon. With my room thoroughly cleaned, and the rest of the house tidy, I had nothing else to do but read. It was such a wonderful feeling to be able to read guilt-free!

Sunday saw me on my hike. The trail K.R. and I took this time was spectacular! There were some gorgeous brooks with little waterfalls. It was so beautiful and peaceful. This trail has, thus far, been my favourite. I will certainly walk it again at the first opportunity. Just lovely.

There will be pictures of it up on my facebook page as soon as I sort them out. K.R. leant me the use of her camera, and I took full advantage of it. I'm sure she's sick to death of pictures of brooks and waterfalls, but whatever! They're my favourite things in nature. That, and odd shaped natural formations.

Right, I have 3 000 words to write today, and I'm terribly behind. I hope you all had a lovely weekend.

Frugiferous

Producing fruit or corn. From Latin fruges, fruits, and fero, to bear.

- Rev. John Boag's Imperial Lexicon of the English Language, c. 1850

Fructiferous. From Latin frugifer, frux, frugis, and voro, to eat.

- John Ridpath's Home Reference Library, 1898

Frugiverous, that [which] devoureth fruit, corn, &c. From Latin.

- Nathaniel Bailey's Etymological English Dictionary, 1749

Happy Monday everyone!

A Dull-ish Weekend

You know those lives in which nothing exciting happens? Yeah... sometimes I feel like I'm living one (which is ridonkulous - I do so many cool things, it's not funny).

I'd love to excitedly tell you about an agent who wanted read more of my manuscript, or having met someone I just can't get out of my head.

I've got nothing. I spent most of this weekend in bed, trying to get my lower back to stop aching. It's been hurting for the better part of a fortnight. Woah... when did I turn into an eighty-year-old? Do I honestly have nothing more exciting to do than grumble about my latest ache? Man... time for a switch-up!

Here's some awesomely good news that I heard via my father on Sunday. My kid bro is thinking of moving over here in October! Yay! That makes me happy! I can't wait to introduce him to the Kung Fu gang!

There really isn't anything else. It's back to writing today, after a good long break. If I stay on target, I ought to kick the pants out of the half-way mark. If not, oh well. There's always catch up time on Friday, I suppose.

I should get to it. Oh, since I forgot to prepare a post for Saturday, you lucky ducks get two Forgotten English entries today.

Boniform

Of a good nature or character; from Latin bonus, good, and forma, shape.

- Edward Lloyd's Encyclopaedic Dictionary, 1895

A faculty by which moral goodness is appreciated; from Latin boniformis.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary , 1893

Batten

To fatten, or grow fat. In Stenberg's Folk Lore and Glossary of Northamptonshire [1851], the local phrase is quoted, "Them pigs batten in the sun."

- Charles Mackay's Lost Beauties of the English Language, 1874

Fattening and battening, a toast of a child's fattening and thriving given at its baptism in private, when the bread, cheese and whisky are partaken of.

- Alexander Warrack's Scots Dialect Dictionary, 1911.

An Unproductive Weekend

But it was fun.

Saturday saw a birthday party at Mooney's Beach. It was simply a small gathering with a potluck meal. Still, it was lovely, and I met some pretty cool people.

Sunday, I went for a hike - on the correct path, this time. No more random adventures in unknown territory. It proved to be a lovely walk. I even reverted back to my half-feral bush baby self and did the hike mostly barefoot. Towards the end there it hurt a bit - my feet aren't as hard as they used to be.

I hate shoes.

If downtown were free of broken glass, and my route not currently torn up by construction, I would do a lot more walking bare foot.

Le sigh.

Thanks K.R. for a great weekend.

I meant to clean the house, but that didn't happen. I'll have to do it in fits and starts starting this evening. Hopefully, it'll stay clean this time.

I really don't know how the house manages to get so messy...

Writing is going well. I'm on target, so far (after writing Friday). Today I should hit the 15 000 mark... assuming I can write today. I'm a little tired and my brain is a little fried. We'll see.

There really isn't much else to report. I shall go now, and try to catch up on all the stuff I neglected to do this weekend (computer wise). Have a great Monday, all!

Borrower's Cap

The borrower is supposed to be ever ready to off with his cap and show complaisance to him from whom he wishes to obtain a loan.

- John Phin's Shakespeare Cyclopaedia and New Glossary, 1902

Wow. Just... Wow.

So, I received my new proof right on time on Friday for The Dying God & Other Stories. I was excited about this one. I'd reviewed the first proof, fixed all the errors I found, and fought valiantly and eventually defeated the evil .pdf converter.

It all looked set to publish.

Except... I found yet more errors. Stupid errors. Stupid little grammatical errors. And now I have to change all the different versions of the eBook. Again. I have to make the corrections to the print version. Again.

Worst of all, I have to fight with the evil .pdf converter. Again.

The last fight had me almost in tears of frustration. Technology and I aren't friends.

I am decidedly unimpressed with myself. Le sigh.

I'm contemplating doing this all today, putting aside my writing for now. Only, I can't quite bring myself to do it. I'm in the middle of the battle that occurs at the end of Puppet Master, and I have to say, writing battle scene are by far much more fun than writing all the heavy emotional stuff that came before. I like trebuchets and boulders smashing walls, and primitive bombs and stuff. It's all so much fun!

So, perhaps I'll leave The Dying God & Other Stories until my no-writing day on Friday. Of course, that means a whole week of dreading that battle I must face with the EVIL .pdf converter. Did I mention that thing was evil?

The weekend saw me busy, as always, but it was a fun sort of busy. Saturday, I tidied up after the Harry Potter party we threw... though the living room still looks like the room of requirement.

Incidentally, the final instalment of the film franchise was well worth the watching.

Sunday, I went out to brunch with my father, before heading out to a hike with my friend K.R., before going to a dinner theatre production (which my father helped direct and in which he performed). The hike was an adventure!

We had decided to do a relatively short 3.5 hike on a black diamond trail. For those not in the know, black diamond is considered exceptionally difficult. We decided on trail no. 6 in the Gatineau Mountains (Gatineau Park, Quebec). We arrived in the early afternoon on what was a sweltering hot day.

No, really. It was really, really, really hot and just as muggy.

Off we went down the easy trail that would lead us to the difficult trail. We arrived at the beginning of the trail and, with nothing else to do, dove right in. We walked, and walked, and jumped over rocks, and up many steep slopes, and around little swamps filled with cute little frogs. We were eaten alive by mosquitoes every time we stopped to rest.

Actually, we were just eaten alive. Resting or no.

Several times we actually lost the trail, to pick it up again a little further on. Several more times we thought we were quite lost, until a tiny plaque with the trail number in a black diamond was spotted nailed to a tree.

I had a blast. I adored scampering over rocks and around swamps and across barely running streams. Several times, I sung the Lord of the Rings theme, as well as the song Bilbo sings as he sets out from Bag End:

The road goes ever on and on,

Down from the door where it began.

I'll follow where [forgot the words so just started humming at this point]

Yes, I'm a dork. I thought this was established?

In any case, that trail was fun.

When we hit the road, it looked oddly unfamiliar. The reason it was odd was because we ought to have come out right where we went in. Not so.

Scowling, we consulted the map before realising we, thinking we were on trail 6, which makes a nice loop, were actually hiking trail 8, which doesn't make such a nice loop. More of a 2.5 km long semi-circle. We ended up 3.5 km away from the parking lot - about 3 km further away than we were supposed to.

Uh... oops?

On the map itself, trail 8 more or less ends about 1.5 km in. The rest of the trail was still trail 8, but didn't appear on the map except for a very short dotted line about where we exited the trail. It's a little difficult to explain, and I'm not sure what it means. Any experienced hikers out there know?

In any case, we walked back to the parking lot, after asking for directions because I was certain we were lost... again. But we weren't. Poor K.R. got a blister and, being unused to walking as much as I, had a tougher time on the black diamond trail. However, she soldiered on brilliantly and, despite suffering a bit from the shakes one gets when faced with a calorie deficiency or dehydration (yes, we stayed hydrated during the hike. Promise), she managed to get me to my Dad's play on time.

I am SO grateful for that (thanks, K.R.).

The play - a humorous musical romp through an old woman's memories - was wonderful, and wildly entertaining. We exited the Centre Pauline Charron to find that it had rained. When I got home, my flatmate told me it hadn't just rained, there had been a storm of epic proportions, including tornadoes. One tornado had, apparently, touched down at Base Camp (where she was currently working) just moments after the evacuation order was received. One poor guy had another car slammed into the tray of his ute.

Oh, I should explain. A "ute" is short for "utility vehicle" in Aussie slang. It describes the car that most people in North America describe as trucks - a car with a tray back and a cab. They're not trucks. A Mac Truck is a truck.

This is a ute.

I digress.

I was actually quite sad I missed it, as I adore storms. Luckily, just as I was drifting to sleep, a thunder storm rolled through. The cats hated it. I adored it. I think I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

Right. I think that covers everything in over-the-top detail. I have a battle to write. If you'll excuse me.

Dortiness

Pride, haughtiness, arrogance, insolence.

- Edward Llyod's Encyclopaedic Dictionary, 1895.

Clearly Needs a Title

A plethora of strange dreams had me up very early this morning. I should have written them down, but failed to and now have no record of them. I'm sure they'll pop up somehow in my writing via my already overloaded subconscious.

Writing today resumes as normal, though this computer has been so painfully slow, I doubt I'll get my 3 000 in today. It's already 10:45am and I'm just getting to my post now. To give you some idea, it turned on the computer to load at 8:43am.

Yeah.

There isn't much news from the weekend to state. I went to Lion Dance practice on Saturday, and had a great time, as usual. I'm currently hand-sewing a sleeveless surcoat which should be finished soon-ish and I spent much time on that on the weekend.

Other than that, nothing exciting has happened. Life goes on.

Oh, I should note that, for some reason, The Dying God & Other Stories is up on Goodreads.com thrice. There should only be two versions (Unillustrated and Illustrated) so I'm going to have to take one down today... if I can figure out how. Perhaps I'll get even less writing down now, as I try to figure out how to remove the repeat version of a book.

I should start, so here's today's Forgotten English:

Earth-Hunger

An inordinate desire to become the possessor or tenant of a small holding [of land]. Specifically, the intense feeling evinced by the Irish in favour of a peasant proprietary.

- Edward Lloyd's Encyclopaedic Dictionary, 1895.

Those silly Irish...

Some Stuff About Some Stuff

Happy Monday all, or at least it would be if this damned computer would work.

Just so you all know, it was 8:50am when I turned this computer on. It's now 10:10 and only now am I able to type out my blog post. I really do despise this computer.

There's actually quite a bit to go through... I think... there was this morning at 8:50, at least. I'll have to try to remember it all. Let's hope I leave nothing out.

I suppose I ought to start with writing news, since this is this blog's primary function. Today is the first day of my return to writing The Great Man. I make a start on book 5 - Puppet Master. I like the title. I also like the fact that this one is darker than the others, darker and melancholic. For some reason, that makes me absurdly happy.

It might have something to do with the weather. It's been gloomy, rainy and cold all weekend. I should be sad about it, but to be honest, I quite like this weather (though I actually do get S.A.D (Seasonal Affect Disorder)). Which reminds me, must take my vitamin D.

Saturday was wonderful as always. Lion Dance practice in the morning went well, and now that we're switching dancers on the fly, it's even more fun. Exhausting, but fun. The troupe goes out to lunch after, and that is always a good time. Then the afternoon was spent teaching Kung Fu. I say the afternoon like it was the entire afternoon, but really it was just an hour.

That evening I went to dinner with my father, and we attended a concert at a church. One of the lawyers in the office at work is in the Ottawa Centennial Choir and they performed Celtic songs (including some really awesome mouth music) for the evening. There were also instrumental pieces.

I have to say, the Uilleann pipes are one of my favourite instruments. Closely followed by the erhu and cello. I was very pleased to see a set there, and happier still to close my eyes and listen. It was a great concert and a lot of fun.

Sunday morning was lesson 2 of Equestrian Archery. It was rainy, cool and generally miserable, so of course I had an awesome time! The drive up was terrible. The rain poured down so hard I could barely see out the windscreen. It had lessoned significantly when we arrived.

We arrived to some bad news... the arena was taken, so we had no choice but to work outside in the cold and rain. It was easy, given the weather, for my imagination to run riot and I was briefly transported to another world where we were preparing for battle in early Iron Age Europe. Yup, I'm a dork.

It was a brilliant lesson, despite the ankle-deep puddles and Nash's attempts at a hostile strike (as in a union strike, not as in a kick or blow to any part of the person). I hit the target twice at a canter. Missed thrice and on one of those misses, lost the knocking and had to reset the arrow to fire... only I wasn't quite fast enough to manage it and was almost past the target by the time I drew. Sigh. Oh well, practice must continue in order for me to improve. Happily, practice will!

Also, I fell in love with a kitten who fell asleep with a goofy smile on it's tiny little face as I cleaned the gunk from it's tiny little eye. Most of the kittens at the stable have cat flu. I didn't take the kitten home, though I was sorely tempted. It was so cute, clinging to my thumb and sleeping, with it's teeny tiny back legs just hanging down...

Le sigh.

Photos and video of lesson two will go up on my Facebook page. If you're not there yet, just click on the link to the right, and you will be.

As most of us know, blogger was having a few issues, and some posts vanished, and for a time, I couldn't post at all. One of the posts that vanished, but has been replaced, was this one by Pam Asberry, who very kindly awarded my another blog award.

Many thanks for it. Unfortunately, I can't pass on the award as I don't have 5 new blogging buddies to pass it along to. The only new blog I follow is George R.R. Martin's blog (entitled Not a Blog). Thus, though I am flattered, I'll spare you all the blog roll.

I think that about covers everything. Here is today's Forgotten English, before I dash off to start writing:

Byspelt

A strange, awkward figure... acting contrary to reason, or propriety; as if labouring under the influence of a spell.

- John Brockett's Glossary of North Country Words, 1825

Byspel, one whose worthlessness is proverbial.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

Monday, or This Post is Late

Of course this post is late. It's Monday, the computer is running all sorts of scans, it's bitterly cold outside (but at least there's sun!).... I'd be pretty unhappy too, if I was a computer.

The weekend was quite lovely. Again, due to family obligations on the part of our coach, there was no Lion Dance training on Saturday. Thus, I scored another sleep in. This is becoming a bad habit. I'll not be able to get up when there is Lion Dance training!

The afternoon saw me teaching Kung Fu, again. I acquired a new student but lost two old ones. You can't see me right now, but I'm making a sad face.

That evening was the birthday celebration of my dear friend, T.H. It was crazy fun - a return to the birthday parties we had as children, complete with loot bags. The loot bags created a silly amount of fun. Not only were there lollies inside, but also a paddle ball, a bottle of bubble solution, and glow sticks. After trying, and failing miserably, to master the paddle ball, the lights went out and a miniature rave (minus the drugs) took place.

Then we discovered the Xbox Kinnect. Now that was crazy fun! My favourite has to be the obstacle course. It was more of a work-out than the Wii (largely because you could, and had to, jump)!

Writing-wise, I have set aside my novel for now to work on a short story for a contest my dear friend A.H. brought to my attention. I wrote the short story in a matter of hours on Friday. It's all written, I just have to go back and edit and possibly rewrite. That is my task. Deadline for submission is February 4th. I should have it in long before then.

I had best get editing.

Before I leave, however, I haven't forgotten today's Forgotten English word:

Bensle:

A bleak, cold place. A place where the frost wind finds easy admittance. Also a person with a saucy air - as much thinking that he does not care a damn for the world . . . He passes the poor with a sneer, and capsizes the infirm with a laugh - his bosom is a bleak place, a bensle - cold unfeeling blasts whistle round his frozen heart.

- John Mectaggart's Scottish Gallovidian Encyclopedia, 1824

So, Ottawa would be a bensle today...

Weekend Shennanigans

I had a lovely weekend. How was yours?

Saturday Lion Dance practice had been cancelled as several members were unable to attend. That was both a good thing and a bad one. The good thing - I got to sleep in. The bad thing - no Lion Dance.

In the afternoon, I taught Kung Fu as usual.

Sunday was an entire day spent with my Dad. We had an early Yum Cha brunch in Chinatown, then headed down town to watch some movies. We ended up seeing two movies because we had the time and nothing better to do.

The first was The Green Hornet. It was a mountain of fun. There were some things I'm sure that were designed to mock traditional super hero movies, like the use of what I like to call "the Batman voice." Everyone who knows me will know what I mean by that. If you don't know me, well, it's the gravelly, slightly lower than normal voice always used by Batman when he's being Batman. I find it a little irritating, actually. In The Green Hornet, however, it was used to comedic effect and I was highly amused by it.

Jay Chou was actually very good in his role as Kato. I had liked him as an actor since Curse of the Golden Flower, but friends of mine were sceptical. He did very well. Also, he rides a motorbike. I'll leave it there.

Seth Rogan was also very good. He managed to walk the very fine line between pathos and comedy well.

If you don't take this movie seriously and you're expecting some plain old-fashioned fun then you'll love The Green Hornet. If you're expecting a serious treatment, don't go.

The second flick we saw was Season of the Witch. I haven't read the book, and I'm certain the film doesn't compare. However, it's still a good watch. There are some things which will annoy some viewers. For example, American Accents. We are so used to watching historical movies in which actors use British accents (even if it's set in France - and that bugs me!), that any other accent seems odd to us.

Also, the CG was not terrific in places. I should note that the wolves changing was a bit ridiculous. Real wolves are by far more frightening than fake ones.

However, as far as acting goes, I have no complaints.

The plot was good, but could have had a better treatment.

All in all, a pretty good flick, actually.

Now that I've thoroughly bored you with my opinions on movies, here is something much more interesting. Today's Forgotten English word/phrase:

Death Hunter:

An undertaker, one who furnishes the necessary articles for funerals. Carrion hunter, an undertaker, called also a cold cook.

- Francis Grose's Classical dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 1796

One who furnishes a newspaper with reports of deaths; a vendor of dying speeches or confessions.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1897