Jan. 17th, 2015 11:17 pm
A day like that
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muckefuckTurns out the answer to, "When will the copy of Sensation I ordered arrive?" is "In three business days." And that's with ordinary shipping. PM Press, you are a class act. I will take the enclosed sticker and display it prominently at my workplace. Innsmouth Free Press I'm less sanguine about. Where PM sent me an immediate acknowledgment, plus another when my purchase shipped, Innsmouth has sent me nothing at all. They took my money though. Or at least PayPal informs that some dude whose name I don't know accepted it, so if he doesn't work for them I'll have reason to be annoyed. In direct contradiction of Murphy's Law, the book that arrived is the one I'm most anxious to start reading, so go me.
The weather outside is, to quote Dylan Moran, "fierce mild". If I didn't know better, I'd think it was March. On the way over to Touché, I work nothing more than an overshirt and Miss Cleveland kept worrying I'd be cold without a coat. I wasn't. Afterwards, they treated me to dinner at the mediocre stealth Thai place around the corner, the one![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu and I tried once and decided we'd never visit again. Any doubt that that was the right decision was dispelled during the appetiser course, when Bigbones used his napkin to capture a cockroach clinging to the exposed brick above his head. We traded it to the waitress for free edamame. Not sure what you get if you catch the next size up and never going to find out.
BigBones leaves for his new job in Pittsburgh the middle of this week while Miss C will stay on a while longer to wind down the household. I e-mailed them several days ago offering my help and suggesting a farewell dinner. As usual, I got no acknowledgment until this morning Bigbones called and asked if they could stop by. I wasn't annoyed, just glad I wasn't committed already and could see them. As I told his husband on the way to the restaurant, it seems any time I start to get really comfortable with new friends here, they either leave town or stop talking to me. He countered by saying that Bigbones is happier than he's been in ages, and I don't begrudge him that a whit.
Unfortunately, it was too late in the evening for the Old Man to join us. But don't pity him: he got homecooked chowder. It was my third or fourth try at making my father's recipe. Last time I was disappointed with how thin the broth was so I decided the cream-of-celery-soup substitute needed ramped up with a purée. (The recipe calls for canned soup which I replace with a roughly equal amount of Béchamel.) I'm not a big celery fan and I thought celeriac would add more body anyway, but I was making a half recipe and didn't need a whole head. Luckily Devon had parsley root and two of those was just enough. (Actually, I needed four since I burned the first two during the steaming process.) It's more work, but the results merit doing it again.
The weather outside is, to quote Dylan Moran, "fierce mild". If I didn't know better, I'd think it was March. On the way over to Touché, I work nothing more than an overshirt and Miss Cleveland kept worrying I'd be cold without a coat. I wasn't. Afterwards, they treated me to dinner at the mediocre stealth Thai place around the corner, the one
monshu and I tried once and decided we'd never visit again. Any doubt that that was the right decision was dispelled during the appetiser course, when Bigbones used his napkin to capture a cockroach clinging to the exposed brick above his head. We traded it to the waitress for free edamame. Not sure what you get if you catch the next size up and never going to find out.BigBones leaves for his new job in Pittsburgh the middle of this week while Miss C will stay on a while longer to wind down the household. I e-mailed them several days ago offering my help and suggesting a farewell dinner. As usual, I got no acknowledgment until this morning Bigbones called and asked if they could stop by. I wasn't annoyed, just glad I wasn't committed already and could see them. As I told his husband on the way to the restaurant, it seems any time I start to get really comfortable with new friends here, they either leave town or stop talking to me. He countered by saying that Bigbones is happier than he's been in ages, and I don't begrudge him that a whit.
Unfortunately, it was too late in the evening for the Old Man to join us. But don't pity him: he got homecooked chowder. It was my third or fourth try at making my father's recipe. Last time I was disappointed with how thin the broth was so I decided the cream-of-celery-soup substitute needed ramped up with a purée. (The recipe calls for canned soup which I replace with a roughly equal amount of Béchamel.) I'm not a big celery fan and I thought celeriac would add more body anyway, but I was making a half recipe and didn't need a whole head. Luckily Devon had parsley root and two of those was just enough. (Actually, I needed four since I burned the first two during the steaming process.) It's more work, but the results merit doing it again.
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I have the same problem with new friends moving away. It feels so unfair. Although I have also been one of those who moved, so I shouldn't complain.
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I was going to give Innsmouth a week before I emailed them to ask "What gives?" As I say, I'm in no particular hurry to start on the Nickronomicon, but it would be nice to no what's going on.