(no subject)

Today I'm persnicketty. I'm having an involved discussion with an editor about a single word (we're not arguing - just trying to work out the best solution to a very tricky problem). I'm wrangling commas later in the day. Not just commas. Punctuation in general - two hours of someone else's. And I was already in "You can't say that, it's inappropriate for the time and place" mode. I spent most of my sleeptime analysing all the ways in which a particular film missed the book, the history and even the mood.

There's a reason I'm blogging this. If I'm at a moment where I'm liable to point out dangling particles* and inappropriately split infinitives and that Avignon was not part of France in 1325, then due warning is essential.

The funny thing is I keep picking up my own errors. And castigating myself for them. At the very least I'm consistent.



*For when Simon realises what I typed - yes, it was intentional.

(no subject)

Fresh homegrown blackberries eaten with ricotta are a solid underpinning to happiness. (Which is another way of saying "Thank you, Elizabeth!")