Christopher Rowe

2009

Not that you asked my advice, or that you necessarily need any, but I think you should go for it.

My tiger is now fast asleep...

Somewhere in all my wanderings I've lost the original of this I clipped from a Sunday comics section.

Man, Bill Watterson sure could draw.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Christmas Eve

On window panes, the icy frost
Leaves feathered patterns, crissed & crossed,
But in our house the Christmas tree
Is decorated festively
With tiny dots of colored light
That cozy up this winter night.
Christmas songs, familiar, slow,
Play softly on the radio.
Pops and hisses from the fire
Whistle with the bells and choir.
My tiger is now fast asleep
On his back and dreaming deep.
When the fire makes him hot,
He turns to warm whatever's not.
Propped against him on the rug,
I give my friend a gentle hug.
Tomorrow's what I'm waiting for,
But I can wait a little more.

Snowy days are pancake days.

We make ours in boring circles and put a bunch of extraneous stuff on top of 'em.

The dogs, though, they like theirs a particular way.

They like 'em a lot.

Some things Grigg learned from science fiction

One of my favorite passages from one of my favorite books, The Jane Austen Book Club.

This was the afternoon that made a reader out of Grigg.

Soon he had learned:

From Arthur C. Clarke, that "art cannot be enjoyed unless it is approached with love."

From Theodore Sturgeon, that "sometimes the world's too much to live with and a body sort of has to turn away from it to rest."

From Philip K. Dick, that "at least half the famous people in history never existed," and that "anything can be faked."

What Grigg liked best about science fiction was that it seemed to be a place where he was neither alone nor surrounded by girls. He wouldn't have continued to like it as he grew, if it really had been as girl-free a world as he initially thought. His first favorite author was Andrew North. Later he learned that Andrew North was a pen name for Andre Norton. Later still he learned that Andre Norton was a girl.

Tacky is as tacky does

For the convenience of those of my relatives who've started their annual round of phone calls and e-mails, one click access to my "amazon wish list™". Just twelve more days 'til my thirty-ninth birthday! And, y'know, whatever other gift giving occasions fall on that day.

If you didn't ask about this, just pretend this was one of those bicycling entries you usually skim over.

Hello, ladies.

adj.

Having more than the usual number of digits...

Don't know why I'm such a picture-taking mood this week. Just put up a bunch more on my Flickr, adding snaps of our redone study, living room, and guest room, and also a bunch of this guy and his many toes.

If Puck and Emma wrote a bluegrass song...

...they'd call it Rainy Day Ramble.

My very best William Gibson imitation

Inspired by Erin's mention of this Eamonn McCabe audio slideshow at the BBC, I just put up some pictures of my own working space in this Flikr set.

If there's a way to put links into Flikr photo notes, I haven't figure it out. So y'all get them here, instead. This sample photo features my tools:

• A black, 300 page "leather-look" notebook by the Spanish stationer, Miquelrius. I use the 6"x8" size ruled as graph paper with blue 4mm boxes
• A Mirado Black Warrior #2 pencil, manufactured by the Sanford Company in Lewsberg, Tennessee using fine California incense cedar (reviewed here)
• A mug of Barooti Assam, "broken leaf with golden tips," from the Ahmad Tea Company of London
• The AlphaSmart Neo sentence machine
• Boots of the Dúnedain, this specific iteration being a pair of Vasque Ranger GTX hikers in taupe and burt orange, with Strider outsole