Why Kindles Are Ordinary.

There is a shop in Blackheath village, full of vintage books and maps and prints. It used to be permanently locked with a little sign up saying that book viewings were by appointment. Now it has changed hands, and the new owner has decided to make some radical changes, i.e opening. What a stunning place! I fell in love with an old copy of Arabian Nights, complete with Dulac illustrations. On Sunday larians attempted - and failed - to be surreptitious, and left me in the local ice-cream parlour while he snuck off to see what he could find for my Christmas present. He came back with a box in a carrier bag. Seems that the lovely book has gone - can't say I'm surprised - but I am pretty convinced that there's a book in that box in that carrier bag.

What is it that makes old book shops so magical?

The Right Thing To Do

I have demurred from giving a talk at a pagan event in the near future.

Part of me is unhappy at reneging on an sortapromise, but the intense relief I feel indicates that I am doing precisely the right thing. I have been very honest with the lovely lady organising it all; for sure I can talk, talk until the cows come home doubtless, but I am in the middle of a learning process, and until closer to understanding it, am in a very inadequate place to discuss such matters.

My power is the ability to bang on most entertainingly, but the scene is full of people who can do that. Right now I don't feel it, so it's best I turn up and show my support by having a good time.