narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
I'm getting very into having eggy spicy things for breakfast, it seems!  

I've deliberately not called this a masala omelette, because that would be seriously stretching the truth.  It is an omelette, however, and it involves Indian spices.  What I've done from there is probably heretical.

Indian Spiced Omelette (serves one)

Finely slice half a white onion and a small green chilli.  Grate a small handful of cheddar (optional).

Add a splash of oil to a small shallow frying pan (I used groundnut oil today because it was what I had to hand).  Fry the onions until soft, then add the chopped chilli.  Meanwhile, crack a couple of eggs into a jug and whisk together, together with 1/2 tsp curry powder, 1/2 tsp garam masala, and a pinch of salt and pepper.

Tip the egg mixture into the pan and fry gently until the bottom has set and the top is wobbly rather than runny.  Add the cheese, if using.  Fold the omelette in half and cook for another minute or so, then tip onto a plate and serve.  (I had it with ketchup.)


narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
Something for the season...


One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted

One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.
 
Far safer, of a midnight meeting
External ghost,
Than an interior confronting
That whiter host.
 
Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
The stones achase,
Than, moonless, one's own self encounter
In lonesome place.
 
Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
Be horror's least.
 
The prudent carries a revolver,
He bolts the door,
O'erlooking a superior spectre
More near.
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
AKA what I had for breakfast.  So-called because I was initially grumpy that my husband had used all the milk and there was none left for my Weetabix.  (I was really being a bit silly, as I only eat cereal once a blue moon, and he wasn't to know I had a random craving for it this morning.)  By the time I'd poked around in the cupboards and rustled this up, though, I was definitely not grumpy any more.

I'm going to start trying harder to write down the random dishes I improvise and enjoy; often I throw together breakfast, lunch or dinner from whatever's kicking around, and then promptly forget what I did.  Putting them on DW lets me keep them somewhere I can easily reference them, and also share ideas with others.   That said, I am not a very good recipe writer as I tend to trust my eyes, fingers and tastebuds rather than pay attention to exact quantities and timings, so...your mileage may vary.

*

Grumpy Eggs (serves one)

Mince two cloves of garlic and one small green chilli.  Finely slice half a white onion and a small bell pepper (or half a larger one).  Also pre-heat the grill to medium-high.

In a small frying pan, warm up a couple of glugs of vegetable oil and then add:

- 1/4 tsp fenugreek seeds
- 1/4 tsp black mustard seeds
- 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
- 1 tsp nigella seeds (I am a bit obsessed with nigella seeds; you could probably tone this one down a bit if you wanted!)

Fry on a medium heat until the seeds are popping.  Add the onions, and cook until soft.  Turn the heat down low, add the garlic and chilli, and cook gently for a minute or two, then add the pepper slices and gently soften.  

After a few minutes, add 1/2 tsp powdered turmeric and 1 tsp curry powder.  Add a pinch of salt and plenty of ground black pepper, then stir to combine.  (If it looks like the spices are sticking and everything's gone a bit clumpy you could add a tiny splash of water to help form a small amount of "gravy", but this is deliberately not a saucy dish.)

Make two wells in the spiced vegetable mix and crack an egg into each.  Fry gently until the egg is almost cooked through, then flash under the grill for 10-20 seconds to set the top of the egg - the whites should be cooked through but the yolks still runny.

Tip onto a warmed plate and serve with orange juice and/or a pot of chai.  Amazing with ketchup.



narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
My Grandma used to sing this to get my siblings and I to go to sleep when we stayed at her house.  I don't know where she got the tune from; possibly she made it up?  Anyway her funeral was yesterday, which is why I'm a day late posting this, and it's very much an 'in memoriam' choice - please bear that in mind if you'd like to comment.


Vespers

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.
 
God bless Mummy. I know that's right.
Wasn't it fun in the bath to-night?
The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy - I quite forgot.
 
If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door.
It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.
 
Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I'm there at all.
 
Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me.
 
Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
The autumn nights are drawing in, and this little riddle feels appropriately spooky and mysterious.  No solution is given in the original manuscript, so suggestions welcome in the comments, as well as other translations from any Old English scholars in the house!


Anglo-Saxon


Ðeos lyft byreð      lytle wihte
ofer beorghleoþa.      Þa sind blace swiþe,
swearte salopade.      Sanges rope
heapum ferað,      hlude cirmað,
tredað bearonæssas,      hwilum burgsalo
niþþa bearna.      Nemnað hy sylfe.


Translation


This air carries little creatures
over hillsides.  They are very bright, 
black, dark-coated.  Rich with song, 
they roam in flocks, cry loudly,
tread woody headlands, even the halls
of men.  They name themselves.



(Some possible solutions here; more about the Exeter Book here.)
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
A day late this week because of real life stuff, but I wanted to do it anyway.  Chat welcome in the comments.

The Way through the Woods

They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods, 
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.

Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods ...
But there is no road through the woods.

(I won't bother linking to an online bio of Rudyard Kipling; there are plenty out there.  I recently came across this poem collected here, but just the first stanza.  I remembered studying it at school; I hadn't thought about it for about fifteen years, but I immediately knew something was missing, and went looking for the poem in its entirety.)
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
Jazz Fan Looks Back
 
I crisscrossed with Monk
Wailed with Bud
Counted every star with Stitt
Sang “Don’t Blame Me” with Sarah
Wore a flower like Billie
Screamed in the range of Dinah
& scatted “How High the Moon” with Ella Fitzgerald
as she blew roof off the Shrine Auditorium
Jazz at the Philharmonic
     
I cut my hair into a permanent tam
Made my feet rebellious metronomes 
Embedded record needles in paint on paper
Talked bopology talk
Laughed in high-pitched saxophone phrases
Became keeper of every Bird riff
every Lester lick
as Hawk melodicized my ear of infatuated tongues
& Blakey drummed militant messages in
soul of my applauding teeth 
& Ray hit bass notes to the last love seat in my bones
I moved in triple time with Max
Grooved high with Diz
Perdidoed with Pettiford
Flew home with Hamp
Shuffled in Dexter’s Deck
Squatty-rooed with Peterson
Dreamed a “52nd Street Theme” with Fats
& scatted “Lady Be Good” with Ella Fitzgerald
as she blew roof off the Shrine Auditorium
Jazz at the Philharmonic.


(Taken from the collection Jazz Fan Looks Back, published by Hanging Loose Press.  Jayne Cortez died in 2013; her Guardian obituary, which gives an overview of her life and works, is here.)
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
I have 100% cribbed this idea from The Guardian, but mine is the lazy version.  I'm not planning to do any upfront analysis or thoughtful commentary, though chat in the comments is absolutely welcome and encouraged.  I just thought I'd post a poem (or an excerpt from a poem) every Monday evening after work - partly as something to look forward to after my least favourite day of the week, but also partly to encourage me to revisit old favourites, find some new ones, and share them with others who might like them too.

19-9-14

Last night I saw red in the sky's
angry fanfare, fiery waterfalls 
belching through black cloud,
my upturned white face
catching cold rays of sun,
my hands in my pockets, blue
& sore from clenching
against thin fists of merciless wind.
Eyes streaming & looking
over to Cumbria, caught between
somewhere neither England,
Scotland or me, I felt
for a second like a tiny
tattered flag, battered & blown
to bits, 'til all that remained
was a ragged hand unclenching,
stretching out fingers to
colour the sunset blue.


(Taken from the collection Border Lines, published by Indigo Dreams.  More about the author here.)

Song Meme

Sep. 28th, 2020 05:47 pm
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
Seen all over the place.  Nothing revolutionary in my choices, I don't think, but here they are anyway!

A Place: Loch Lomond by Alastair McDonald
A Food: Black Horse and the Cherry Tree by KT Tunstall
A Drink: Gin Soaked Boy by The Divine Comedy
An Animal: Starlings by Elbow
A Number: I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers 
Something To Wear: Halo by Beyoncé
A Colour: Mr. Blue Sky by E.L.O.
A Boy's Name: Sweet Baby James by James Taylor
A Girl's Name: Rosie by Jackson Browne
A Profession: So You Want To Be A Rock'n'Roll Star by Patti Smith
A Vehicle: The Day We Caught The Train by Ocean Colour Scene
A Day Of The Week: Friday I'm In Love by The Cure

narya_flame: Smaug the dragon sitting on a pile of gold (Smaug)
“I'm not signing up for Trick Or Treat,” she said. “No more exchanges. Not until next year. That's flat.”

But then, one dark and misty autumn night while her husband was away...

 

Yes, I went and did the thing. Hi, hello, and welcome to my very rushed Trick Or Treat letter.  

 

Read more... )
 
narya_flame: Green leaf on black background (Leaf)
"I had a mind to make a body of more or less connected legend, ranging from the large and cosmogonic, to the level of romantic fairy-story – the larger founded on the lesser in contact with the earth, the lesser drawing splendour from the vast backcloths..."

- J. R. R. Tolkien, 'Letters'
 


Read more... )
narya_flame: Maglor, with tousled hair (Maglor)
Dear Creator,
 
Hello! I have no idea how it's this time of year again; 2020 has been...well. Maybe the less said about that the better. Anyway, this is one of my favourite fandom events, so seeing it announced put a much-needed smile on my face - it's time to explore some weird and spooky corners of Middle-earth (and beyond)!
 
I have combed the tagset and pulled together a set of deliciously dark Tolkien prompts and requests to tempt your muses. Don't feel like you have to draw or write to any of my specific ideas; they are 100% optional and intended for inspiration only, so please go in a different direction if that's what your piece wants to do. Also feel free to combine prompts, if it works – for example, Maglor turning up in Cardolan or Arthedain.
 
I'd be equally thrilled with anything about any of the tags and characters I've selected so please don't read anything into the length of the prompts, or the number of tags I've combined with a character, or whether I've requested the characters for previous exchanges. I haven't included tons of shippy/smutty prompts here because most of the tags I've picked out are focussed around horror, injuries and supernatural goings-on, but if you do want inspiration in that direction, there are plenty of character-agnostic likes and ideas in my Chocolate Box letter from earlier this year.
 
 
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
Dear creator,

Hello! I'm SO EXCITED about this exchange and I had a really hard time even narrowing down which fandoms I wanted to request, let alone which characters I wanted within those fandoms. Result - I have ended up with a ridiculously long letter. Oops?

Read more... )
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
A few years late, but I just played through this short, bittersweet visual novel after downloading it from Steam, and it was like having all the awkwardness and uncertainty and second-guessing of my teenage years distilled into a few short IM conversations.  Nicely done, developers. 

Semi-spoilery nattering )
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
The SWG's block party challenge for Monday was "go behind the scenes of one of your own fanworks," and I forgot to do it because work.  Today I haven't got the energy to think of a fic and come up with something interesting to say about it, so if anyone wants to play, I'm flinging this open - anything you fancy asking about any of my fanworks, or the characters I write, or why Tolkien, or my writing process in general, go ahead.  Ask as many things as you like, though complicated or multiple questions will take me longer to respond to! Who knows, it might get me into the mindset to write again, because who knows where that has gone lately.

(There are some fun ideas for general writing questions here, but I'm also more than happy to answer specific questions about individual fics.)
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
 The lovely Greykite has translated my fic Snow Bears into Russian.
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)

Dear Writer,

Hi! Thank you for making a gift for me, and for reading my letter. I do a lot of swaps and hurt/comfort is always high on my “yes please!” list, so I'm excited to see it get an exchange all to itself.

Read more... )
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
Dear Author,

Hi!  Thank you so much for writing for me and for taking the time to check my letter; I love fic in unusual formats, so I'm really excited to read what you come up with.


Read more... )
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
 AO3

Faerie

SWG

Annatar takes a brooding Celebrimbor for a walk in the snow.  Written for My Slashy Valentine 2020 as a gift for erlkoenig, who requested a tender moment between Celebrimbor and Annatar, and prompted “hot cider.”

General Audiences.  M/M (pre-ship).  1.2k words.  Choose not to warn.
narya_flame: Young woman drinking aperol in Venice (Default)
Challenge #15

In your own space, create your own challenge. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.


Get warm and dry again after surviving today's apocalyptic deluge in Edinburgh.

No?

OK, on Day 6 I wished for an event for the smaller Tolkien canons (i.e. not Hobbit, LOTR, Silm/HoME), and...if you want the thing, make the thing, right?  I'm thinking along the lines of a low-commitment fic and art swap, but there are a few things giving me pause:

1) I don't see a logical space in the Tolkien fandom calendar for it.

2) I already co-mod a pretty big fandom event in the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang, which consumes my fannish life from May to September (and I wouldn't have it any other way, I love that event and I'm so proud of it).

3) Is there even any demand for an event like this or am I paddling the canoe on my own?  I know that the small canons can be requested in a lot of events, Tolkien and multi-fandom, but it's rare to match on them even in Tolkien-only events.

Thoughts, Tolkien friends?  If enough people are interested and I can see a way to make this happen in a fairly low-effort, low-stress manner, I might be willing to take it on.

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