today with rambling

Feels more like Saturday than Sunday. Woe that it's not.

Today up early (but less early than those without DVR -- who had to rise at 6:30 to catch the expanded coverage) to watch Stage 9, otherwise known as The First Day in the Real Mountains. Yesterday, Armstrong's famous team that never abandons him was nowhere to be seen on a relatively easy climb (you and I would die, is what I mean by relatively easy). Very exciting. We had breakfast burritos and now we are having tea.

It seems like people are really prickly on the web lately, in a way that's getting tiring. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm envious. (And it's not any one thing, it's sort of this pervasive sniping.) I long for a shift to cutting people a little slack, especially for things they are dashing off, for free, in their blogs or journals. I'm not advocating free passes or not reacting to things that really deserve a reaction, I'm just exhausted by the constant pouncing. It hardly seems like the best way to conduct a conversation.

Maybe this is a sign I need to scale back on the number of sites I read.

Anyway.

Lately, been reading lots of fine things: Winslow in Love by Kevin Canty (Mr. McLaren, you'll like this one); A Princess of Roumania by Paul Park (which I plan a real review of when it comes out in August); rereading Kelly's stories in the shiny new Magic for Beginners (an Editor's Choice in EW this week, with A grade, yay!); To Charles Fort, With Love by Caitlin Kiernan (a wonderful upcoming collection); and some of the stories in God Lives in St Petersburg by Tom Bissell.

I want to get to The Hummingbird's Daughter and a metric ton of other stuff. I also finally picked up Peter Turchi's Maps of the Imagination, off the glowing recommendations of Matt Cheney and others. And most exciting of all, the crafty Barb Gilly and the wiley Richard Butner gave me a bunch of old magicians' society magazines as an early birthday gift that are the most, most fun to read. (M-U-M: Magic Unity Might!) The ads are priceless. (Purchase Doves Easy or The French Arm Chopper by Grant!) They know my proclivities too well.

Really working hard on the rewrite too, and working hard in general, which is the short explanation for why the content here is crappy and sporadic lately. Also, why I rudely, obscenely rudely, owe you email. The other good news is that the Mysterious Illness and its accompanying dark cloud mood have passed. I feel entirely back to normal.

Amazingly extensive circus poster gallery at this Netherlands site.

Matt Cheney blogs Readercon (it always sounds like so much fun; maybe next year).

We got our paper tickets to Glasgow yesterday. Paper tickets, so quaint.

And here's something else. Kelly scored me a copy of Merck's 1899 Manual at BEA. It's a beautiful little object. I leave you with this:

Creosote from Beechwood, Merck.--U.S.P.

Dose: 1-3 M, gradually increased to limit of tolerance, in pills, capsules, or with wine or brandy. -- MAX. INITIAL D.: 5 M single: 15 M daily.--ANTIDOTES: Emetics, stomach pump, soluble sulphates (such as Glauber or Epsom salt).--CAUTION: Wherever Creosote is indicated for internal medication, Creosote from Beechwood should be dispensed; and under no circumstances should "Creosote from Coal Tar" be given, unless explicitly so directed. Wood Creosote and Coal-Tar Creosote differ very widely in their action on the human body: Wood Creosote is comparatively harmless; Coal-Tar Creosote decidely poisonous.--Preparation: Water (1%). MERCK'S Beechwood Creosote is aboslutely free from poisonous coerulignol found in some of the wood creosote on the market.

Stay away from Coal-Tar Creosote; you heard it here first.