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Silly Peter
2 Nov 2025 05:01
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Such vivid memories! But when I was a kid, the camera was pretty much reserved for visits from rarely seen relatives, which required us to stand on the lawn facing the sun ("Stop squinting! Smile!") in a stiff cluster with said relations. I do treasure those pix, but how I wish I had visual backup for vivid memories. Like the year we put our bulldog into my little brother's pajamas. How people laughed to see him trotting proudly along!
Then there was the horse costume I made with a friend when I was ten or eleven. I designed it and we sewed it by hand--by then I had designed and made so many doll clothes out of scraps that coming up with a horse costume didn't seem all that hard, just more stitching. Our trick or treat bag was held by her dad, who insisted on coming along.
It was a huge hit around the neighborhood, but! Though we each had had to model the body in order to get into it, we hadn't thought to practice very long. We soon found out that one person bent over, hanging onto the other's waist was super hard on the back. When we first took off, her mom did want to take a pic, but we were too impatient, and promised to stand still at the end of the evening. When we got back, we were both so sick of bending over we refused to pose, so we never did get a picture, though her mom was willing. Ah, well!
When I was a teen, and deemed too old to go out, I made a robot out of cardboard to deliver candy down a chute. That was fun. my little brother adored it. Some of the neighbor kids came round a couple of times just to see it work.
In those days, pretty much all costumes were homemade. There were some for sale in stores, but they were flimsy, made of really cheapo material, and few parents in our neighborhood wanted to waste the money. I remember my first Halloween, when I was little, my dad had mom divide an ancient sheet and cut out holes for eyes, and we were supposed to save and use the sheet ghost costumes, but mom made some for us when I was about six. I remember a bride dress, which I loved. I kept sneaking out to the garage to put it on afterwards and getting scolded. (We--friends and I-- later scored give-away cocktail dresses for acting out our stories.) I started making my own costumes with the horse.
Then there was the horse costume I made with a friend when I was ten or eleven. I designed it and we sewed it by hand--by then I had designed and made so many doll clothes out of scraps that coming up with a horse costume didn't seem all that hard, just more stitching. Our trick or treat bag was held by her dad, who insisted on coming along.
It was a huge hit around the neighborhood, but! Though we each had had to model the body in order to get into it, we hadn't thought to practice very long. We soon found out that one person bent over, hanging onto the other's waist was super hard on the back. When we first took off, her mom did want to take a pic, but we were too impatient, and promised to stand still at the end of the evening. When we got back, we were both so sick of bending over we refused to pose, so we never did get a picture, though her mom was willing. Ah, well!
When I was a teen, and deemed too old to go out, I made a robot out of cardboard to deliver candy down a chute. That was fun. my little brother adored it. Some of the neighbor kids came round a couple of times just to see it work.
In those days, pretty much all costumes were homemade. There were some for sale in stores, but they were flimsy, made of really cheapo material, and few parents in our neighborhood wanted to waste the money. I remember my first Halloween, when I was little, my dad had mom divide an ancient sheet and cut out holes for eyes, and we were supposed to save and use the sheet ghost costumes, but mom made some for us when I was about six. I remember a bride dress, which I loved. I kept sneaking out to the garage to put it on afterwards and getting scolded. (We--friends and I-- later scored give-away cocktail dresses for acting out our stories.) I started making my own costumes with the horse.
The Girl Genius comic for Friday, October 31, 2025 has been posted.
The BBC has announced that the latest Doctor Who Spin-off, The War Between the Land and the Sea, is due to launch in the UK on BBC iPlayer and BBC One this December.
The five-part series will showcase how the world reacts when a fearsome and ancient species emerges from the ocean, dramatically revealing itself to humanity and triggering an international crisis.
Featuring a star-studded cast including Russell Tovey as Barclay, Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Salt, Jemma Redgrave as Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Ruth Madeley as Shirley Ann Bingham, Alexander Devrient as Colonel Ibrahim, and Colin McFarlane as General Austin Pierce.
Other previously announced cast members include Adrian Lukis, Patrick Baladi, Francesca Corney, Mei Mac, Vincent Franklin, Waleed Hammad, Iestyn Arwel, Hannah Donaldson, Manpreet Bachu, and Ann Akinjirin.
Russell T Davies, Showrunner, Writer and Executive Producer says:
This is a huge, spectacular Christmas treat, with heroes and monsters and battles and romance, in a world on the edge of disaster. And remember. Watch the seas!
The series is produced by Bad Wolf with BBC Studios for the BBC and Disney Branded Television and will air on BBC iPlayer and BBC One in the UK in December, and exclusively on Disney+ outside of the UK (where available) in 2026.
The series was created by Doctor Who Showrunner and Executive Producer Russell T Davies, who has written the series with Executive Producer Pete McTighe. In addition, Executive Producers for Bad Wolf are Joel Collins, Julie Gardner, and Jane Tranter.
The series is directed by Dylan Holmes Williams, with Lorne Balfe serving as the show’s composer.
The Girl Genius comic for Wednesday, October 29, 2025 has been posted.
The BBC has confirmed that Doctor Who will return to screens worldwide at Christmas 2026.
The series will continue with a special episode written by the current showrunner, Russell T Davies and produced by Bad Wolf with BBC Studios for the BBC.
The BBC has also confirmed that Disney+ has decided to end its partnership with the corporation and will not be involved in any future series of Doctor Who. The BBC has said they remain fully committed to the show and will announce plans for the next series in due course.
Lindsay Salt, BBC Director of Drama
We’d like to thank Disney+ for being terrific global partners and collaborators over the past two seasons, and for the upcoming The War Between the Land and the Sea. The BBC remains fully committed to Doctor Who, which continues to be one of our most loved dramas, and we are delighted that Russell T Davies has agreed to write us another spectacular Christmas special for 2026.
We can assure fans, the Doctor is not going anywhere, and we will be announcing plans for the next series in due course which will ensure the TARDIS remains at the heart of the BBC.
We can assure fans, the Doctor is not going anywhere, and we will be announcing plans for the next series in due course which will ensure the TARDIS remains at the heart of the BBC.
The War Between the Land and the Sea, a spinoff from Doctor Who, is heading to BBC iPlayer and BBC One later this year, as well as a brand-new animation series for CBeebies, which is in development.
I love Boston so much, especially this area around Harvard. The trees are rich with color, the air is brisk, requiring all my layers of flimsy California-wear, and the sidewalks brick with lumps of tree roots. I love it all.
Yesterday I went with Nine to the Mapparium on the other side of the river. (The bus ride down Massachusetts Ave is great for scenery!) If you've never heard of it--I hadn't until one of the Viable Paradise workshop writers clued me in--it's an enormous glass globe that you can walk into, to see the entire world, worked in jewel-toned glass, as it was in 1935. It was constructed to be a reminder that we are all in this world together; a needed warning then, as now. (Naturally those who need it most won't see or hear.)
We had a great time looking, then testing the amazing sounds created by voices enclosed in glass.
Afterward we met up with Rushthatspeaks for tea and chocolate at L.A. Burdicks. Oh, they know how to do chocolate so, so right. Delish. We chatted and reminisced and cackled like maniacs. Today we'll visit the Fogg to see a Botticelli that is usually hidden in a private collection. I can hardly wait!
I'm coming down from the high of a very successful workshop, and a month of splendid visiting and seeing and fast-lane busy. The workshop writers are so talented and so focused, and all this in beautiful Martha's Vineyard.
Tomorrow homeward bound!
Yesterday I went with Nine to the Mapparium on the other side of the river. (The bus ride down Massachusetts Ave is great for scenery!) If you've never heard of it--I hadn't until one of the Viable Paradise workshop writers clued me in--it's an enormous glass globe that you can walk into, to see the entire world, worked in jewel-toned glass, as it was in 1935. It was constructed to be a reminder that we are all in this world together; a needed warning then, as now. (Naturally those who need it most won't see or hear.)
We had a great time looking, then testing the amazing sounds created by voices enclosed in glass.
Afterward we met up with Rushthatspeaks for tea and chocolate at L.A. Burdicks. Oh, they know how to do chocolate so, so right. Delish. We chatted and reminisced and cackled like maniacs. Today we'll visit the Fogg to see a Botticelli that is usually hidden in a private collection. I can hardly wait!
I'm coming down from the high of a very successful workshop, and a month of splendid visiting and seeing and fast-lane busy. The workshop writers are so talented and so focused, and all this in beautiful Martha's Vineyard.
Tomorrow homeward bound!
Shocked by a dream fragment in which I was swept away down a rocky river, like Weena in the Time Machine. I woke to the sound of my own voice screaming for help, only I wasn't really. In real life, it was an intake of breath and there I was, sitting up.
Carcosa remains an interest of mine. Ambrose Bierce began its story (https://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/InhaCarc.shtml ) I knew it as the mysterious double-sunned city of the Yellow King, an unknowable bringer of malevolence and madness. There's more but once one starts on the Cthulhu Mythos one is almost certain to face the ultimate maddening horror; the purple prose of HP Lovecraft. I mention it now because a poem turned up this morning, possibly triggered by the nightmare. But first the classic depiction of the Carcosan vibe:
Cassilda's Song
Robert W. Chambers (1895)
Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.
Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.
Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.
Song of my soul, my voice is dead;
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.
Carcosa should never be fully explained. Still, here is my reply:
i could not help them then
those tired wretches dreaming of Carcosa
whose questions were all about
gold on the pavements,
and a world, however mad,
still better, still abundant
i could not say
beware this place
beware its tattered king
beware even of me
in all my kindness
all my talking kindness
of here
always of here
this my vein my home but
even a daughter stumbles
between shadows
born from double suns
above all beware promises
not for feared falsehood
But because here each
promise will be kept
to the last letter
the last broken letter
Beware the dreamer's song
of Lost Carcosa
The truth is
you will always find it
Wherever you thought
your steps were headed.
And because I like to remember them, here are my favourite inhabitants of Carcosa.
Carcosa remains an interest of mine. Ambrose Bierce began its story (https://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/InhaCarc.shtml ) I knew it as the mysterious double-sunned city of the Yellow King, an unknowable bringer of malevolence and madness. There's more but once one starts on the Cthulhu Mythos one is almost certain to face the ultimate maddening horror; the purple prose of HP Lovecraft. I mention it now because a poem turned up this morning, possibly triggered by the nightmare. But first the classic depiction of the Carcosan vibe:
Cassilda's Song
Robert W. Chambers (1895)
Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.
Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.
Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.
Song of my soul, my voice is dead;
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.
Carcosa should never be fully explained. Still, here is my reply:
i could not help them then
those tired wretches dreaming of Carcosa
whose questions were all about
gold on the pavements,
and a world, however mad,
still better, still abundant
i could not say
beware this place
beware its tattered king
beware even of me
in all my kindness
all my talking kindness
of here
always of here
this my vein my home but
even a daughter stumbles
between shadows
born from double suns
above all beware promises
not for feared falsehood
But because here each
promise will be kept
to the last letter
the last broken letter
Beware the dreamer's song
of Lost Carcosa
The truth is
you will always find it
Wherever you thought
your steps were headed.
And because I like to remember them, here are my favourite inhabitants of Carcosa.
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A friend has put up a photo of him cuddling his little black kitten, with a blissful expression on its face that reminded me of our boy. It has been nearly 3 months, I should change my photos on FB to help me move on. Just not yet. Gad, I just do not get over stuff. I'm not over the death of Surya and that was in 2021. Talk about maudlin! I need imagery around to cheer me and get me working, because this should be a busy winter.
Meanwhile shrooms continue to proliferate in the garden. My plant apps vaguely identify one large patch as candy caps or curry caps and for sure they do that whole latex milky thing when squeezed but the identifying smell is just pleasant, neither candy nor curry. Apparently it becomes more distinct when it dries, or you can burn a bit of it to find out. So I picked some out of the garden but right now it is too wet to set alight. I know exactly how it feels.
Meanwhile shrooms continue to proliferate in the garden. My plant apps vaguely identify one large patch as candy caps or curry caps and for sure they do that whole latex milky thing when squeezed but the identifying smell is just pleasant, neither candy nor curry. Apparently it becomes more distinct when it dries, or you can burn a bit of it to find out. So I picked some out of the garden but right now it is too wet to set alight. I know exactly how it feels.
The Girl Genius comic for Monday, October 27, 2025 has been posted.
<\/a>The actor and writer Nabil Shaban has died at the age of 72.
Nabil Shaban will be best remembered by Doctor Who fans for his delicious portrayal of Sil, the odious and unctuous character created by Philip Martin for the 1984 story Vengeance on Varos. So successful was the character that he returned in the following season in Mindwarp.
Shaban would later recreate the character in audio form for Big Finish.
Nicola Bryant, who played Peri alongside Shaban, said
So sorry to hear of the passing of dear Nabil Shaban. A wonderful actor, good friend and probably one of the best Doctor Who villains of all time. He worked tirelessly for disabled actors and always brought such dedication and humour to whatever he was doing
Nabil Shaban was born in Amman, Jordan
As a child, he was diagnosed with brittle bone disease, osteogenesis imperfecta, resulting in him moving to England for medical care, where he grew up in a series of hospitals and residential homes.
After graduating from the University of Surrey, Shaban founded the Graeae Theatre Company, an organisation composed of disabled artists and theatre makers. He performed major roles in many Graeae productions, including: Hamlet, Godspell, The Emperor, and Fleshfly.
Shaban’s film work includes parts in City of Joy, Wittgenstein and Born on Fire, whilst on television he has had numerous roles in Channel 4 and BBC productions
Nabil Shaban died on the 18th October 2025. He is survived by his wife Marcela Krystkova and their child.
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Good morning, afternoon, and evening!
We're doing some database and other light server maintenance this weekend (upgrading the version of MySQL we use in particular, but also probably doing some CDN work.)
I expect all of this to be pretty invisible except for some small "couple of minute" blips as we switch between machines, but there's a chance you will notice something untoward. I'll keep an eye on comments as per usual.
Ta for now!
It's a cold wet day and my hands are cramping. The garden is riddled with fungi, including one properly round fairy ring under the last rose in bloom. I stepped in and made a wish, a small wish but then it's a small ring.
Now I'm huddled in a big pink cardi while it rains and rains out there. I have things to do but they may get put off in favour of sitting in front of the fire watching Traitors and Clarksons Farm. I'm not sure about Celebrity Traitors, that performative edge becomes try-too-hard ever so quickly. The usual version is much better.
Clarkson's Farm is my go to delight. He's definitely got elements of urgh to him, but no getting past the fact that he makes great TV. CF isn't just the cotswolds being beautiful and the townie failing comedically, it's a shrewd insight into British farming without ever once feeling like a lesson. Plus it's funny.
Today that will do for me.
Now I'm huddled in a big pink cardi while it rains and rains out there. I have things to do but they may get put off in favour of sitting in front of the fire watching Traitors and Clarksons Farm. I'm not sure about Celebrity Traitors, that performative edge becomes try-too-hard ever so quickly. The usual version is much better.
Clarkson's Farm is my go to delight. He's definitely got elements of urgh to him, but no getting past the fact that he makes great TV. CF isn't just the cotswolds being beautiful and the townie failing comedically, it's a shrewd insight into British farming without ever once feeling like a lesson. Plus it's funny.
Today that will do for me.
The Girl Genius comic for Friday, October 24, 2025 has been posted.
The Girl Genius comic for Wednesday, October 22, 2025 has been posted.
Going to try it, see if it helps. Everything is a bit off. There is so much for me to do, but I seem unable to put my mind to anything. Was it a fortnight ago I was tromping between central Granada and Zaidin in the heat? Mum was hard work and so were the circumstances, but in physical terms it was easy. Now I am inevitably sleepy, my walks feel harder, perhaps I am a bit depressed. Is it the lack of light? Maybe that's it.
But there is stuff that needs doing and I must wake up.
It won't be long before I return to Granada, and it suddenly occurs to me that whenever I go, I never go into the mountains, I don't even go to Sacromonte, because my family used to have conniptions at the idea of me anywhere near the caves and the Roma. I wrote this poem about it;
THE SACROMONTE VALENTINE
Sacromonte, Sacromonte
Don’t take your purse or phone,
take cash in your pockets
And don’t go by yourself.
But the poet won’t listen
She is full of red wine
and all she hears are footsteps
footsteps to Sacromonte
Sacromonte, Sacromonte
her hands unfurl stories
bird bright, reptile supple,
taut as a new drumskin
Her feet move and shout
and others move too
Wood and wineskins keep time
in the smoke of Sacromonte
Sacromonte, Sacromonte,
His smile is a bullet
She screams and is woken
with laughter and coffee.
In Sacromonte she dreamed
of Lorca the poet.
Where is she now that
she dreams of Sacromonte?
Garcia Lorca did not die in Sacromonte. My dreaming of the above came perhaps from his reputation as 'the gypsy poet' though he wasn't a gypsy. It is thought that he was shot by Nationalist forces near Viznar, but no-one is sure. Motives were plenty; he was socialist, he was gay, he was controversial, but on the other hand, he had friends on all sides. Some claim there was a personal vendetta beneath the politics, a score settled. Excavations continue trying to find his remains.
Then I realized I had been murdered.
They looked for me in cafes, cemeteries and churches
.... but they did not find me.
They never found me?
No. They never found me.
- The Fable and Round of the Three Friends",
Poet in New York (1929), García Lorca.
Why did he matter to me? His poetry was beautiful, but more than that, he helped me to understand Duende.
All that has dark sounds has duende. And there is no greater truth.... These dark sounds are the mystery, the roots pushing into the soil which we all know, which we all ignore, but from which comes what is real in art. - Theory and Function of the Duende, Lorca
I do not think depth and struggle and rawness are the only powers birthing the real in art. But I can feel what he means. And on days like this it's good to accept the gift, to accept that however stupid things have been, I know Duende. While it would comfort many to find where he was buried, a part of me resists. After all, if no-one knows where he is then he could be anywhere which puts him everywhere.
Dream well Federico.
But there is stuff that needs doing and I must wake up.
It won't be long before I return to Granada, and it suddenly occurs to me that whenever I go, I never go into the mountains, I don't even go to Sacromonte, because my family used to have conniptions at the idea of me anywhere near the caves and the Roma. I wrote this poem about it;
THE SACROMONTE VALENTINE
Sacromonte, Sacromonte
Don’t take your purse or phone,
take cash in your pockets
And don’t go by yourself.
But the poet won’t listen
She is full of red wine
and all she hears are footsteps
footsteps to Sacromonte
Sacromonte, Sacromonte
her hands unfurl stories
bird bright, reptile supple,
taut as a new drumskin
Her feet move and shout
and others move too
Wood and wineskins keep time
in the smoke of Sacromonte
Sacromonte, Sacromonte,
His smile is a bullet
She screams and is woken
with laughter and coffee.
In Sacromonte she dreamed
of Lorca the poet.
Where is she now that
she dreams of Sacromonte?
Garcia Lorca did not die in Sacromonte. My dreaming of the above came perhaps from his reputation as 'the gypsy poet' though he wasn't a gypsy. It is thought that he was shot by Nationalist forces near Viznar, but no-one is sure. Motives were plenty; he was socialist, he was gay, he was controversial, but on the other hand, he had friends on all sides. Some claim there was a personal vendetta beneath the politics, a score settled. Excavations continue trying to find his remains.
Then I realized I had been murdered.
They looked for me in cafes, cemeteries and churches
.... but they did not find me.
They never found me?
No. They never found me.
- The Fable and Round of the Three Friends",
Poet in New York (1929), García Lorca.
Why did he matter to me? His poetry was beautiful, but more than that, he helped me to understand Duende.
All that has dark sounds has duende. And there is no greater truth.... These dark sounds are the mystery, the roots pushing into the soil which we all know, which we all ignore, but from which comes what is real in art. - Theory and Function of the Duende, Lorca
I do not think depth and struggle and rawness are the only powers birthing the real in art. But I can feel what he means. And on days like this it's good to accept the gift, to accept that however stupid things have been, I know Duende. While it would comfort many to find where he was buried, a part of me resists. After all, if no-one knows where he is then he could be anywhere which puts him everywhere.
Dream well Federico.
DW is seeing some issues due to today's Amazon outage. For right now it looks like the site is loading, but it may be slow. Some of our processes like notifications and journal search don't appear to be running and can't be started due to rate limiting or capacity issues. DW could go down later if Amazon isn't able to improve things soon, but our services should return to normal when Amazon has cleared up the outage.
Edit: all services are running as of 16:12 CDT, but there is definitely still a backlog of notifications to get through.
Edit 2: and at 18:20 CDT everything's been running normally for about the last hour.
Edit: all services are running as of 16:12 CDT, but there is definitely still a backlog of notifications to get through.
Edit 2: and at 18:20 CDT everything's been running normally for about the last hour.
Strange dream full of sharp flashes. I was in a lesbian relationship with someone, I could feel them holding me, the real sensation of intimacy, but I don't remember their name/face/anything about them. Glimpses of me looking at a map, finding myself on the South East outskirts of London, close to Plumstead or Woolwich but there was another borough with a name I could not recall, and it was either South or South West. I don't even know why I was looking for it. Me again in a room with a high bunk bed, bit small for me but I could use it. Nuclear Man's wife in a house, she was expecting another child, a son. But the house had no curtains, no material at all that I could see, and this was strange because she was always excellent with fabric, upholstery,etc. She was very happy.
I woke with a gravestone suddenly in my mind. Maybe my mind is trying to tell me this is a time of endings and beginnings. All good I guess, but uneasy.
I woke with a gravestone suddenly in my mind. Maybe my mind is trying to tell me this is a time of endings and beginnings. All good I guess, but uneasy.
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