(no subject)

I want to say something acutely intelligent and insightful because it is still March and still very much Women's History Month, but my mind keeps veering between wondering how to stop my thoughts dwelling on quail eggs (hardboiled) rolled in zaatar and pondering upon the importance of chocolate. I tried eating chocolate mud cake and that worked for a while.

Blame girliejones. She has brought me the most wonderful variety of food, all stuff that is hard to get or unobtainable in Canberra and in amongst the goodies is the most amazing chocolate drink you have ever seen and also a packet of zaatar. In my cupboard I keep quail eggs (doesn't everyone have a tin or two of quail eggs for emergencies? matches, candles, water bottles and quail eggs - the essentials for disasters). And they taste very nice together. Quail eggs and zaatar taste charming together, not quail eggs and chocolate drink. I also want to deep fry some of those boiled eggs Egyptian-style and then dip them in cumin and salt. Don't you think they would go well on a platter with felafel and stuffed vine leaves and slices of tomato and haloumi and maybe a bit of basil? Perhaps with the Belgian chocolate drink for dessert.

I am not actually hungry. That leaves me with no excuse for obsessing about food. None.

Today was one of those days that didn't permit of hunger, nor much time for obsessing. There was the fun of the Outcast booklaunch (went very nicely: Nicole has done the Canberra Speculative Fiction Guild proud with the publication, and I had the significant bonus of meeting stevecav): there were lots of wonderful people to talk with. So much good food. Why should I be obsessing about other good food?

My mind kept turning to potential fates for quail eggs even when Nicole and I watched the new Pride and Prejudice this afternoon. Not even my running commentary on it prevented thought heading quailwards. Nicole finally lost it to laughter when I pointed out that one of the words in the US ending wasn't round in Jane Austen's time, but she didn't know that the secret corner of my mind was calculating how much olive oil it would take to cook twenty eggs.

Because I can't say anything acute and insightful and intelligent and because you really don't need even more possible uses for quail eggs, I will link you to someone who can provide insight and so forth. In fact, I will link you to someone who has said all the things I ought to be saying about why it is important to read and remember both female and male authors. http://heocwaeth.blogspot.com/2006/03/why-medieval-women-writers-belong-in.html

And, because some of you are more into gore and grue than others, here is a link to cassiphone's latest, because it includes some of the more tasteless segments of Roman history from a female angle. http://cassiphone.livejournal.com/73444.html

Now please excuse me while I go to my pantry and stare at tins of quail eggs contemplatively for a little.

(no subject)

Did I forget to say I was bewildered today? I wonder why I forgot? Can't be because of quail eggs.

During dinner tonight a friend told me from across the table that she had seen me quoted in an article. I became all kinds of excited. I thought it it was something to do with my fictional self (I dream of being a famous writer because it is way easier to dream than to actually become one). It wasn't. It was my leadership-teaching self. And I had never been interviewed for the article. Either that or I talked to someone in my sleep and they wrote down my mutterances.

I am hoping the article ascribes amazing wisdom to me and I can float round life being stupid and looking as if I do nothing but produce intelligent sayings. Now if only I knew what those intelligent sayings were and where they appear: I feel like sending out little tags saying "send word samples to Gillian so she knows where she has got to, please."