I have nothing to say.

27.5.11 § 0 commentarii


It’s work’s fault, of course. Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying it, but I’ve really had to hit the ground running. All these bank holidays, the recent nice weather and the slow build-up of the summer season have all conspired to make me rather work-focused, to the detriment of the rest of my life.

However, as I don’t want this blog to degenerate into a sequence of bitter rants about the life of a chef, I’ve decided not to post about what’s happening to me at the moment in my everyday life. You don’t want to read about my irritating commis or our ongoing quest for a reliable KP. Nor, I suspect, do you want to read self-pitying whining about my mental health and my husband’s seemingly interminable bankruptcy proceedings. It’d be like a really depressing “real lives” section from Closer! magazine.

In lieu of actually writing substantial posts, what I’ve been doing is jotting down ideas for future blogposts, to be written when I regain some energy and motivation (i.e. September). Aside from things I’ve already set up and need to continue (like the conception of Lugus thing), I’m plotting a few posts about some of my favourite languages, both real and invented: Dalmatian, Romansh and Romani on the one hand, Tailancan and Dravean on the other. A post about oaths and oathbreaking in the context of ritual purity (were it an article for publication, I’d title it something grand like “Towards a Celtic reconstruction of miasma”). Something about Romance philology and why I find it quite so fascinating. Maybe a few recipes. Some anecdotes about my time as a drunken, drug-addled bacchant. I’m not sure yet. I wouldn’t expect anything soon, however, as I really don’t know when I’m going to wake up on a day off with sufficient energy to get dressed before three, let alone actually write anything.

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