Joining the Q

So one has joined the Q and has to think about what to commence next.

The Q in question is, of course, the latest tome of one's A to Z of Unread SciFi and Fantasy Authors endeavour, and it has joined the list of letters read.

Finding an author with a Q surname proved a difficult thing and so, unfortunately for all of the universe, Pirate Dave won with his suggestion of Soldier of Light by John de Lancie.

It was a strange and interesting book with an intriguing central idea, locations that seemed meaningful to the author, all delivered with much run of the mill dialogue and description.
So not bad but probably still best if I've saved you from reading it. Three and a half stars.

After such a hard letter the next few reads in the A to Z will be a doddle, and shall come straight off one's sagging to-read shelf without any need to risk another Pirate Dave recommendation.

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I Claudius

So one has finished this long saga of lies, betrayal, and power at the top corrupting even those that have the best intentions.

 I believe I Claudius the BBC series first came to my attention many a year ago when Judge Mingus mentioned it in an obviously insidious manner and it finally provoked me to commence a watching of it all over a few weeks.

When One announced that One was tackling this cultural touchstone of the late seventies The Maple Maverick was quite derisory but even he had to agree with me that i was correct that it got better after the first 3 hours.

If your interests lie in interior sets for exterior locations ala early Dr Who; stage delivery of dialogue; early career work of Brian Blessed, John Hurt, Patrick Stuart (with curly hair!), the Bene Gesserit Mother Superior, and countless others; reasonably impressive ageing makeup; lots of "I say look at that interesting thing happening off screen!"; and in particular Roman history, then you may well have an enjoyable time with the I Claudius series.
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Fluffy. 13 Sep 2002 to 7 Nov 2019

So this has been a harder post for one to write than most of the pontifications one one has espoused over the years.

More than a week has passed since the sad day of the passing of one's feline companion - The Tiger. - whom one began taking temporary care of for Svetlana for just a few months back in 2005 and when the plan for shipping overseas fell through, well that was okay.

She of the fluffy physique had surpassed 17 years (nigh 85 in human servant years) and appeared to be going strong - albeit a little older and creakier with less leaping, more snoozing, and a splash of missed litter tray action - when all of a sudden one afternoon she took a turn for extreme lethargy with occasional whinging and not much interest in food.

One sat up with her overnight and she had started drinking a bit of water so in one's naive hope it seemed like it might have been a temporary illness thing - especially when she moved in for one of her infamous lap sits complete with evil eye of "don't you dare try to get up".

Lap sit complete with evil eye.

However in the morning she became more and more listless and at the end One was patting her and talking to her for what turned out to be the final 5 minutes until, after some toe scrunching responses to One's attentions,  she had a big stretch and released her last breath.

It hit One harder than One would have thought but I guess a 15 year companion does get intertwined in your heart - mayhap there was a dash of Stockholm Syndrome involved - and I seemed to have an immediate allergic reaction to her passing complete with watering eyes and constricted throat.


Salsa Girl, Hulk and I said our goodbyes over the course of the morning and are now trying to get used to the empty Fluffy space in our house and our routines.

• No longer is the morning trip down the stairs greeted by a raised head and mew of inquiry.
• No longer will one be trapped under a sleeping feline and forced to watch hours of b-grade scifi and fantasy.
• No longer shall one be woken in the night by mysterious banshee screeching.
• No longer will small children fear to enter our home.
• No longer will some of those children that do enter go missing.
• No longer will she participate in gaming nights 

Gaming nights are great for finding warm places to sleep.

• No longer will she wind and weft around the legs of anyone in the kitchen.
• No longer will the house thrum to the thudding scampers up and down the hallway.
• No longer will she be found sleeping in strange places - on top of posts, in egg carton lids, in her freshly changed litter, on any single sheet of paper left out, Salsa Girl's ankles, atop a lego construction,over the corner of the coffee table...
• No longer will our residence be rife with the fear of leaving a water glass unattended.
• No longer will one have to wait for her inspections to complete before continuing with any task that involves moving furniture or opening cupboards.
• No longer will anyone lying down on the couch be greeted with the "here's a bum" manoeuvre.
• No longer will the Vet quake in fear and lay in extra stocks of band aids before her visits.
• No longer will such deep purring be emitted from simple patting and stroking. 
• No longer will those little paws reach out in delight or those eyes go squinty with the pleasure of a chin scratch.

In her younger days - sleeping in a fruit basket.

Farewell Fluffy, you kept me sane when I was a single man living on my own, and then seemed to set out to balance the ledger once you became surrounded by family.

You shall be missed and have left your mark upon me. Several of them in fact.
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Les Misérables

So this long undertaking of One's has come to an end all of a sudden when the end still seemed quite far off. Still it can be quite hard to judge the length of these things when you are in the day to day of them.

M. Hugo's title itself may well be seen to be quite the apt descriptor for those who have been connected to this grand endeavour as it can be somewhat of a downer when the finish sneaks up on one.

I guess, after devoting so much of one's time to this enterprise, the one big question remaining is: what is next on one's agenda?

#BooksRead

A Conference Carol

What a month it has been. Filled with the lead up to One's annual conference and then the event itself.

Now that one has some distance between oneself and the happenings of conference it will be safe to report Objectively on the many happenings of the event.

--

Our hero's journey began on a sunny... rainy... sunny... windy Melbourne day as he boarded the train that was taking him to the exotic, far off, destination of Jolimont.

It seemed like mere minutes passed and suddenly he found himself checking in to the most haunted of venues, replete with the moaning of the unsettled dead whistling down the corridors (or if Old Mate and Dual Wielder are to be believed it's just the air conditioning).

Expect the twins to cycle round the corner any moment...

Our hero bravely pushed left his safe and secure room to attend the early arrivals get together. This year, as well as the usual early arriving attendees, there was an organised flash mob of the ghosts of past conferences. Among them Vivacious Em, Skeptic L, Comrade Treasurer, and Dubrovnik Hater; all doing their darnedest to resurface events of past conferences that still haunt our hero to this day.

--

Day the second began with the proper conference events and that familiar haunting feeling that every conference organiser has that something had been forgotten.
In any case all was well, except for the haunted projector flickering in and out during the first two hours of presentations.

The large morning events led into the smaller afternoon events and soon enough we were gathering for the evening Galah dinner wherein one found oneself at a table with Supervisor Grand Chief K. The horror continued when she left early and the now spare dessert was sent back to the kitchen as "not needed"... NOT NEEDED!!! Despite that horrifically traumatising event the fun level did seem to pick up as the night went on and there was even some dancing amid the conversation. However a chill did descend upon our hero towards the end of the evening as the ghosts of the present conference obviously took possession of both Sis and Old Mate.

The moment the spirits took control...

--

The third day began with Sister Serials and LibraryBFF joining Sidekick and our hero for the day.
After a few morning presentations the fun stuff of the AGM began wherein one's back-room dealings once again failed to return our hero to the presidential standing so richly deserved and he had to continue on as Secretary.
To make matters worse there were then afternoon training sessions in which post-lunch learning was expected!
Luckily it was over in the long-blink of an eye and we were all soon traipsing our way to the evening networking event Sis had booked in the back of a wardrobe, down some stairs, in a basement.
I begrudgingly presented the official crown of presidency to Sis only to have it refused and then stolen away by Jeza who seemingly had it glued to his head for the the next several hours.
Conversation and company was good and our hero was surprised to discovered that several of the other IT employed attendees were huge nerds/geeks about various things.
There was also the ghostly glimmer of potential future conference organising volunteers to warm ones spirit as the witching hour approached.
The return trip of the evening was rather less traipsy and more in the realm of stumbly. But it did involve a visit by Dual Wielder, guided accurately by our hero, to the model Fairy Village (also known correctly as the Model Tudor village) and the Fairy Tree before evening retirement was had at a sensible single digit hour.

--

Day four began.
Day four provided many more networking opportunities which, luckily for our hero, Sidekick was able to shoulder the load of.
And before you know it the great adventure was over.
Well, except for the part where our hero had to face one last trial: The Trial of the Unwinding Executive.
Once more spirits were summoned and traipsing the breadth (but not the length) of the city was undertook. Creamy fluffy cocktail temptation was faced and defeated by our hero - time and time again. And finally all were safely back to their haunted hotel rooms to head towards a well-earned sleep in before heading homeward in the morning.

The ghosts and spirits of conference where to linger with our hero and his faithful companions for days, nay the week, to come - for such a manifestation is not so easy to shake without a second weekend of sleep-ins...
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Qing up the next read

We have come once again, dear readers, to the stage of selecting the next book of one's A to Z of Unread SciFi and Fantasy Authors endeavour.

This time the letter that one's bookshelf shows a dearth of is "Q". It may well be that the genre shows a dearth as well but none the less we shall press on.


The Rules
Titles should be in the sci-fi and fantasy realms, or speculative fiction if you prefer.

The Author's Surname should begin with the letter Q and they should be one who's wares one has not sampled before.

Here is my Author list of already read Qs from the time span of The Tales:

Not a sausage from this small field.

Bonus points if the book is available in the work catalogue - which doesn't look likely.

Even more bonus points, and probably the win by default, if you place your recommendation into one's hands.

So better get to it Internet, and recommend away.
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17 of the Beast

Last Friday - the thirteenth - was the occasion of the seventeenth birthday of The Tiger.

Now in her equivalent of 84 servant years The Tiger has started to show signs of her graceful age.

She has become a little hard of hearing, which allows One to sometimes sneak through the room without being accosted for more canned food.

She is moving a little more gingerly - seemingly having to save up her leaping energy for only once every hour or two.

She is forever hungry (although see below) and has taken to scavenging around busy kitchen feet like a hyena - despite the regular crushing of her fluffunimous tail.

She seems to have lost all her different demanding screeches in favour of only the "give me canned food now!" demonic yowl. This leads to the situation where she thinks, "I say I would really love to curl up on a lap right now" and then screeches at us "give me canned food now!" then looks askance at the canned food provided in response and proceeds to screech at us "give me canned food now!". This goes on until One sits down in disgust whereupon one of the saved-up leaps is rapidly used and one is trapped under a sleeping kitty for hours.

She is having a little trouble squatting in the litter and so we have had to artificially raise the wall heights around the edge to reduce the frequency of "flooding".

She has decided that rules about what surfaces she can stroll across and what vessels she can eat or drink from are no longer in need of even passing deference.

Still,  all in all, she's definitely worth having around the house because we all know pets have an effect on your stress levels.
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Going Digital

So one has finally completed ones catch up reading of the last of one's printed Judge Dredd comics. The frantic catch up reading proceeded at around 1.2 weeks per week for the past several years - demolishing Pirate Dave's rash prediction of  only 1 week per week in the process.

I shall now be moving into the world of digital comics and commence catching up on the 7 years of digital to-read pile (folder?) that has accumulated whilst one has been catching up.

I anticipate I can get my catch up speed really moving now and may even reach as high as 1.3 weeks per week.
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Gettysburg aka Hairysburg

One watched this filmic rendition of the historic Civil War battle  over a number of days last week. It was a recommendation from The Maple Maverick who later confessed that he hadn't been able to make it past the second day.

Speaking of which I consider it a brave decision by the creators to have the film last about as long as the actual battle.
Of course they did try to distract from this by filling the screen with the most amazing array of facial hair variations, including Tom Berenger in the fakest beard ever.

The film used many of the actual locations and thousands of eager re-enactors, many of whom proved to be eager over-actors.

Overall it is an interesting film with some information to be learned and visuals that will amaze you.

In short: come for the History and stay for the beards!
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Hulk's Super Day

Last weekend past saw a great gregarious gathering of heroes and baddies to celebrate the occasion of Hulk's becoming 7.

Hulk was, of course, BatGirl for the day, and was joined by a plethora of other heroes and baddies -Catwoman, Wonder Woman, Thor, several Ninjas and the infamous villain The Dad Joker, were all present.

There was much crazy rushing around and a formal super powers testing session that didn't stay formal for very long once one introduced the Dodge The Squishy Balls test.

I believe everyone failed the Cake Resistance test and tucked in joyfully to this years magnificent Salsa Girl creation.

All in all a great day was had by all - except maybe for The Dad Joker who never could get anyone to tell him if they were hungry...
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Packin’ Up The House

So, one has been a tad busy this past week or so packing up one’s old stomping ground in preparation for a Grand upgrading of facilities. 

Along with the likes of Mr Prada, Days of our Libraries, Country Girl, The Maple Maverick, and Sidekick, One has been dismantling technical equipment, moving furniture and uncovering dust bunnies not seen since the Jurassic (and the other half of that delicious biscuit one lost down the side of one’s old desk back in the Spring of ‘08). 

It has been quite an exercise in lifting, carrying, and cord untangling and it has proven tiring for one to direct all that frenzied activity. 

Going Solo

Of course previous weeks have also been busy as One was left to one’s own devices several weekends ago and forced to go solo with Salsa Girl and Hulk off to the sunnier Northern climes of Bendigo. 

... With Solo

The first solo occasion was marked by spending the evening with Sneaky Pete and BrotherStealer watching one’s copy of Solo which refuses to play on one’s blue ray. 

It was an enjoyable evening of of visual and gastronomic feasting. 

... with The Great Sandro

One’s next solitary activity was an expedition to that horrible stadium that is far from Marvel-lous to watch the Pies not play at all. 

Joining one in solitude were The Great Sandro and Sneaky Pete. The less said about the experience the better. 

After all that Solo activity the following weeks became a blur of work and school holidays - I am fairly sure that I attended the correct one. 

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A Need to P

We have come once again, dear readers, to the stage of selecting the next book of one's A to Z of Unread SciFi and Fantasy Authors endeavour.

This time the letter that one's bookshelf shows a dearth of is "P".

The Rules

Titles should be in the sci-fi and fantasy realms, or speculative fiction if you prefer.

The Author's Surname should begin with the letter P, and they should be one who's wares one has not sampled before.

Here is my Author list of already read Ps from the time span of The Tales:

H. Beam Piper
Edgar Allan Poe
Frederik Pohl
Jerry Pournelle
Terry Pratchett
Philip Pullman

Bonus points if the book is available in the work catalogue

Even more bonus points, and probably the win by default, if you place your recommendation into one's hands.

Now young Badger has already paradoxically beavered away and returned some results - in physical form - along the lines of Pynchon and Peake, including multiple copies of one title he is yet to dip into to allow a two-person bookclub style read.

So better get to it Internet, and recommend away, if you want to avoid a Badger fait accompli.

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A Handy Eighty

This weekend past was the occasion of the celebrating of Handy Dad passing his 80 year milestone.


A grand gathering of friends and family was had for a lunchtime feast and so Salsa Girl, Hulk, and Oneself dutifully set forth to dutifully stuff ourselves to the gills with entree, main and dessert (twice for Hulk who may not have fallen far from the tree).


For the ceremonial side of things Freeloading Mum insisted that one earn ones fill and say a few words over the raucous sounds of the lively bistro crowd. Being the reluctant public speaker you all know me to be I respectfully spouted some truths about dad to enlighten everyone to the changes he would be undergoing at his significant age - I believe that I have managed to keep my favourite son status intact despite his shock at the new requirements for beer intake.


When it was all done we headed home from the event to all partake in a celebratory nap in honour of the birthday boys favoured afternoon hobby.
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Traditional Easter

So, this Easter break was another traditional Easter with all the traditional Easter holiday activities and holiday day names.

Starting with the traditional Evening-Before-Good-Friday footy watching, wherein it was good to see the pies back on track.

Continuing with the traditional Saturday-After-Good-Friday-and-Before-Easter-Sunday gaming day of Magic playing with Sneaky Pete, Gavman, ElfBoy, and Commander Fry, all partaking in some traditional Magic card playing (absent were BestFriendSincePrep and MatrixMan, both partaking in non-traditional going away for Easter).

Next was the traditional Easter-Sunday-Two-Days-After-Good-Friday-and-One-Day-Before-The-Monday-After-Easter-Sunday early wakeup and hunt for fluffy little chickens and eggs with Salsa Girl and Hulk. One will be discovering the things in odd places for weeks to come.

And finally today on the Monday-After-Easter-Sunday holiday it is time for the traditional what do we do with an extra day of holidays day. Incorporating all of the traditional too much chocolate events.
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Proust In his first book wrote about...

Having been gifted a classic fiction calendar by Grandma J for Xmas One was inspired to attempt to read the monthly classic fiction.

January kicked things off with a doozy - In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust.

So dutifully I trotted off to Project Gutenberg to collect the ebook version of this. Upon arrival I found 7 volumes!! A quick redefining of One's self-imposed terms was undertook and the terms settled on as Volume one only (I also had February's 1984 already-read in one's past and able to be skipped so confidence was high.)

The astute amongst you gentle readers will note that it is now very late March. It was a long volume one and one suspects that the remaining volumes shall remain unread by oneself.

So what was it about?

That really is the question.
My entry in Monty Python's Summarise Proust competition:

There's a family who live in the French countryside and the young boy is concerned with how little his parents express their love for him, and the family is also rather obsessed with visits from the upper class neighbour, the titular Swann, until rumours of his wife concern them slightly, we then jump to Swann himself in Paris visiting through upper class society and falling for Odette whom becomes his lover but also has her own life which drives Swann to fits of jealousy and many stalking thoughts and events, and hijinks ensue to ensure coincidental appearances at her holiday destinations until we switch back to the young boy now older and moved to Paris and obsessing about a young girl who is revealed to be Swann's daughter and eventually we hear her mother is Odette and wonder if the middle section was a flashback as section one included the young wife, and if it really matters in the flow of the story which is not so much a story as a recounting of the week to week flow of times in the narrator and M. Swanns past, all translated in nice flowing prose but using altogether far too few full stops.

The Start of Footy Expedition

So this Friday past a great expedition was undertook to purvey the first footy game of the season.

The trains were uncharacteristically on time as The Great Sandro and I headed in early to the venue.

Joining us in the vicinity was Sneaky Pete direct from work, and we all made the journey across the MCG parkland/carpark.

As we approached the entry to the sportsplace we were impressed that there was so little crowd at such an early time. Especially as it was touted to be a blockbuster and online tickets were going to cost us upwards of $160 altogether, compared to the $55 and oneself free for just turning up early for general admission.

Entering the ground One was almost overcome with the large amount of seating choice. Eventually we decided on a location and settled in the setting sunlight to await the relief of some shade in the stands.

The match began a scant two hours later and we were all enthralled in what was a scrambly error prone mess of a game that showed that new high-score encouraging rules can't do much to make players kick straight.

Half time saw us swoop on the idea that it had to get better as the players must be warmed up now. Wherein we had to endure a continuation of the low scoring motif for the second half.

The final siren finally blew to indicate finality for the game and the magpies had lost our first one for the season.

The Great Sandro commenced his usual stream of "Well you have to be happy for me, we won, and I got to see Gary Ablett in person"

We eventually headed home using our slingshot-train-into-the-city-and-back-out method to procure seats for the journey home method.

All in all a grinding evening to celebrate the start of the footy season.
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The End of Footy Expedition

So this Sunday past a great expedition was undertook to purvey the final footy game of the season.

As the trains were uncharacteristically in disarray, Hulk and oneself collected The Great Sandro and drove to the vicinity of the venue.

Joining us in the vicinity were Sneaky Pete and Mirri Cat Warrior and we all made the journey across the bridge to the promised land of Victoria Park.

As we approached the free entry sportsplace we were informed by neon-clad officials that we had to go around to the proper entrance instead of walking up and over the hill.
Entering the ground One expected The Great Sandro to burst into flames - a fate the hot day actually threatened for all attendees not just #@%&! Carlton supporters - however naught happened in that regard and we promptly made our way to some shade in the stands.

Choice of seating was left up to Hulk who decided that the midst of a pride of Lions supporters was the primest of seating. One breathed deeply to remain calm.

The match began and we were all enthralled in what was important. Cries of "Go Pies!", came from oneself and Sneaky Pete,  "I don't really know what's going on" from Mirri Cat Warrior, and "I'm bored, where are the chips" from Hulk.

Half time saw us swoop on the chips - as the Magpies had swooped on the lions - and then return to the blessed shade. Wherein we had to endure a low scoring second half.

After crawling through the constantly under attack second half the final siren finally blew to indicate finality for the game and the magpies had won our first one for the season!!

Hulk commenced vigorous flag waving, song singing, and cries of "I've never been so happy!!"

Post-match running all over the field was indulged accompanied by shouts of "I want to be a footballer" and practice tumbling to the ground.

We eventually headed home accompanied by much humming of the theme song emanating from the back seat.


All in all a great day to celebrate the end of the footy season.
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The Birthday Month

It seems that having a birthday in a month is not conducive to regular blogging - it's a proven fact.

Well many days and nights of gaming were had along with a return to work - which is the best birthday present ever. Even better when one's birthday coincides with a Strategy Team Meeting. Oh the giddy heights of excitement.

The return to work also heralded the return of regular public transport irregularities and exercises in sardine imitation.

The return of footy also happened in the form of one's women's team, although having been heavily pillaged by other teams it is hard for it not to feel like starting over again.

The return of Hulk to school brought some welcome relief all round as we all missed school.

And to finish off the birthday month the return of stinking hot weather has served to make one slow down to a standstill at the end of the month of partying.
Which is all well and good for, as Salsa Girl and a plethora of one's work supervisors can confirm, without external factors one was likely to keep moving forever.
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The Holiday Break

And so it seems that one of the first things to break on the holiday is one's determination to keep posting to The Tales.


One of the next is the peace and quiet at home as Hulk's first year of school ends and she is home with Salsa Girl and I, as a raucous bundle of energy with nigh insatiable play demands.

The Xmas days in sweltering Bendigo conditions along with Grandma J caused a break in one's mental faculties.

The trip away was a break the family was looking forward too and one managed to survive despite no break in the frequency and variety of insectile creatures determined to feast upon one's delicate flesh.
Time with Doctor David, and Grannie A, and also as a family in a tent in a storm helped provide a break from the ongoing itching and scratching.

Next to break was one's belief that BestFriendSincePrep had not played in the previous Tuesday Knights game of Judge Dredd. The sight of a well used character sheet began the breaking of one's mind.

And now, with the return to work just a scant few days away, one is looking forward to the break from holidays.

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