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My brain is on holiday. This could be because I nearly designed myself a whole region without a single child. Obviously a doomed society.

Once I made a list of things like this, so I shouldn't forget. Ten pages, single spaced and I still left things out. Either my world is doomed, my writing is doomed, or I am overdue a tea break.

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I've been given the versatile blogger meme by two different bloggers. Thank you both Satima Flavell and Mary Victoria for your thought and your lovely comments (also for your blogging - it's nice to be named by writers I enjoy reading) and yes, I shall paste the picture and tell the world seven little known things about me. I put off thanking Mary Victoria (I love her whole name today - I find it very hard just to call her Mary!) because I thought of fifty bloggers and couldn't make choices between them. I want everyone to read everyone else, which is entirely useless in terms of recommendations.

First, though, the picture:



Now for seven things:

1. I was probably born in a hospital with swinging doors.

2. I don't like moussaka.

3. I broke my finger when I was nine and it's still a little crooked. I broke it by running into the playground. I didn't fall over (I remember the event quite clearly) I just ended up running in a different direction to usual. I realised I was going in the wrong direction when my hand and face hit the asphalt. "It doesn't hurt," I told everyone. It didn't, then. Soon, however, I discovered why everyone else runs on the playground and not into it.

4. I have a fake Amati under my bed. Let me emphasise the fake aspect ie it's not worth breaking in to steal, though it has a very sweet sound. It has a wonderful sentimental history that I am happy to expound upon if asked.

5. My number in the extended family is here (six brothers and sisters, none of whom ring me).

6. The largest number of cooking spices I have ever owned at one time is 103.

7. I read War and Peace and Gibbon's Decline and Fall in their entirety when I was a teen. I liked the Gibbon better. I need to use this information, actually. Next time I am given an evil comment for reading light fiction and enjoying it, I shall discuss the Gibbon. Not the Tolstoy - I decided when I was 13 that I was forever Dostoievsky's fangrrl. Then I read Bulgakov: The Master and Margarita is one of my favourite books of all time. Is that one little-known thing, or several half-known things? You need a final bookish one though, because it's eating away at my mind and will destroy my peace forever if I don't say it: Agatha Christie is better in French.