Saving Our Botanics
The Glasgow Botanic Garden is a treasure grove of abandoned Victorian buildings, rose gardens, playing grounds, medicinal plant beds, squirrels chasing squirrels and big glasshouses filled to the brim with exotic plants.
For some unfathomable reason, a property developer has decided that it would be a really fantastic idea to put a nightclub in the middle of this. And for an even more unfathomable reason, the idea has actually made it to the City Council.
Quite apart from the fact that the Botanics provide a wonderful gateway to the River Kelvin, that they are a real haven in the midst of the very busy West End and that you already have numerous nightclubs in the area, the suggested site is the abandoned railway station dating back to the late 19th century.
The railway station lies underground and its platforms are only visible in glimpses - magical, wildly absurd glimpses - and in order to redevelop it, a large portion of the Botanics would need to be disturbed. A protected species of bats live in the rail way tunnels. They will lose their habitat.
So, today we went to the Botanics, were handed small flags staking a claim to the Botanics and planted our flags in the wet, muddy place that might just turn into a nightclub. The organisers had managed to gather a huge crowd, the sun came out just in time for the news cameras and children played among the daffodils. I'm a firm believer in ordinary people being able to use our voice to change things. I hope our voice will be heard.
Save Our Botanics // More than 1,000 people gather in the Botanics // Botanics protest held in West End
Careful, Stumble, You Might Fall
I'd show you a picture, but it's a bit too gruesome: I have yarn burn on my left hand. It's all band-aided up now, but I had to abandon the yarn-fest late yesterday night after it started hurting too much. Who knew that my latest obsession would turn this nasty? I'm accustomed to paper cuts, of course, and dropping books on my feet/head/other limbs - but yarn is supposed to be soft and snuggly, isn't it?
Life's small adventures continue.
I nearly had a blackout in my favourite bookshop (scroll down to end of page) the other day. Again, you might think "Fainting in a bookshop? ah, but at least they have aisles and nice sofas.." but my favourite bookshop is naturally one of those places where the books are overflowing the shelves, spilling unto cluttered piles on the floor and me keeling over dramatically would just cause an avalanche of books that'd block the entrance. Plus I might injure one of the cats or dogs.
I'm awaiting an appointment with a neurologist.
And finally, just because I have a huge stack of SF/fantasy links (mostly all from Other Half who's slightly tired of me obsessively surfing for beautiful, beautiful injury-inducing yarn): say, you want to create an alien language..?
Novy Odense
The pilot gingerly untangled his fingers from the rope he'd been holding on to, worked out which way up he was, shifted the tool box off his legs, wiped the oily water out of his eyes, and hauled himself upright.
"Well, Hester, looks like we're getting the hang of this," he said.
His dæmon, who looked like a small sardonic jackrabbit, flicked her ears as she clambered out of the tangle of tools, cold-weather clothing, broken instruments and rope. Everything was saturated.
"My feelings are too deep to express, Lee," she said.
You can read the excerpt from Philip Pullman's prequel to His Dark Materials here. Once Upon A Time in the North will be out on April 3 and is available to preorder from Amazon already.
Riddle Me This: What Can You Do With Paper?
Today a gækkebrev arrived. Literally meaning "a riddling letter", a gækkebrev is a letter in the shape of an elaborate paper cut-out with a riddle written in its middle. Sometimes a snowdrop is included with the letter, sometimes the riddle just alludes to the snowdrop.
The letter is commonly associated with Easter in Denmark and school children absolutely love making them. The reason? Quite apart from kids being creative and conjuring up gorgeous paper cut-outs, the letters bear a prize: an Easter egg. Above all other things, the gækkebrev is anonymous and the writer will leave a hint in the shape of dots (four dots if your name has four letters etc). If you can identify the sender, you win an Easter egg. If you are fooled by the riddler, you owe him or her an Easter egg.
People will go to great lengths to fool the recipient of a gækkebrev. They might post the letter in another town, they might get a friend to write for them in case their handwriting is too distinct or they might even deliberately travel out of the country and get someone else to post their gækkebrev. Or perhaps that is just my family and friends?
The sender of my letter wrote me using a painstakingly different handwriting and altered the number of letters in her name - opting to sign with a pet name rather than her real name. Sadly, I still recognised the handwriting (your lower-case "r" is really distinct, Chris) and now I'm awaiting my prize. I love traditions - particularly when they go my way.
A few relevant links:
+ A guide to DIY gækkebreve in English
+ The fairy tale writer Hans Christian Andersen's paper cut-outs and gækkebreve. Gorgeous stuff.
+ Contemporary paper art by Dane Peter Callesen carries on the tradition of paper cut-outs and paper art - and he really, really ups the game. My current favourite of his is Icy Sea/Eis Meer which has been created using an A4 sheet.
The Chalets – Feel the Machine
Still one of the best singles of the Noughties (and I love the video too).
No Electricity, But Much Excitement
We went to the hospital today for a long-awaited appointment. I have been undergoing epilepsy tests but they came out negative. No abnormal electrical currents or any abnormal brain structures - I'm relieved that I'm not dying of a brain tumour and I'm frustrated that I could not get a clear, concise answer to wtf is going on with me today. We're off to see my GP to find out what is next. Exciting times.
So, a compensation I was allowed to buy three skeins of very, fabulous, very expensive yarn. I am not sure if it is entirely healthy (for my bank account or my partner's sanity) to both suffer from bibliophilia and, er, yarn-philia?
Speaking of bibliophilia, one of my major interests is artists' books: the idea that the book is more than just a transparent medium but actually plays a major part in our understanding of texts (and thus the world) is very, very appealing to me. This year's Glasgow's International Art Festival caters to this interest of mine with the Glasgow International Artists Bookfair. It'll feature all sorts of books about books as well as actual artists' books and workshops on bookbinding etc. I'm so there. No surprise that I will also be found here looking very excited at this exhibition.
Glasgow is good to me.
A Corner of a Foreign Field
A blustery day in Glasgow. We seized the moment when the rain stopped and went into city centre to buy me a cinnamon latte and browse quickly through the bargain offers in Waterstones. This is what passes for normalcy - I could do it because the city was quiet, I had company and I had had a good night's sleep. Yes, I am starting to get cabin fever but the next hospital visit is on Wednesday. Please cross fingers for a solution.
In the meantime life goes on.
And life right now equals being crafty with yarn. I have embraced Etsy - although I am slightly disturbed by the fact that you can buy handmade nipple tassels (link not safe for work, obviously) as well as pig ballerina cloth sanitary towels (reusable) (link not safe for your sanity). I have also become a beta tester of Ravelry which is a knitting/crochet community. I feel very middle-aged - particularly as I have been crocheting along to PUPPIES these past few days. Youth, youth, where hast thou gone?
Finally, I'm much amused by The Independent's latest marketing decision: free glossy booklets featuring the Great Poets. Who else would have thought that would entice more people to pick up the newspaper? Who?
Underneath the Trees
Ladies and gentlemen, we had snow the other day. You might think that my Viking Blood might've caused me to embrace the weather and frolic through the snow like some demented Norse god, but no. I hate snow. Blame it on too many schoolyard snowball fights which I always lost. No, I stayed indoors and read.
Speaking of which, today is World Book Day. Hooray. Worryingly the site has plenty of fun games involving Paddington Bear (who recently abandoned marmalade in favour of Marmite) and Jacqueline Wilson. I'm not so sure about the chosen strategy, but then again I'm an old hag who's currently more obsessed with yarn than books.
Selective linkage on the unrelated theme of anatomy (in the broadest sense) and art:
+ SteamPunk Lego Star Wars (yes, really)
+ Art resulting from asking children what they thought the body looked like “under the skin.”
+ InsectLab. Also rather steampunk and not for people with entomophobia.
Go forth and read. I'm curling up in front of the heater.