November 19th, 2007


ancestor of the o rly owl

Forget your excitement at Victorian lolcatz. Among the pile of weird birdwatching families, unchuckable book-covers and disturbing pictures of ponies I scavenged from the bookshop on Saturday, I found this gem, tucked away in a pile of random pages torn out of books donated amongst a pile of geomancy, outdated scientific speculation and vaguely fortean coffee table books. Could it be the first O Rly Owl?

o realley owle
o realley owle
From a medieval manuscript about alchemy.

Apart from the bookshop, I also ventured into the wilds (well, not beyond the reach of the Nightbus, obviously) to help warm the amazing new house of zengineer and rufusfrog. It's extraordinarily escher-like; the staircases are prone to throwing you back into the place you just left, and there seem to be far too many levels.

On sunday it rained relentlessly, a cold hard, rain that clearly wanted to be sleet and was sulking until nightfall let it be SNOW if it wanted. So I stayed indoors and painted my ceiling swirly. And cooked a huge pot of something Tim claimed was Stefado, possibly purely to confuse me. It doesn't seem very similar to the recipes I'm finding online, but apparently most restaurants keep their Stifado (I correct my mental spelling) recipes secret, so maybe this is just Stifado οικια jeremy.

Hmmm, that means I have butter beans to finish up this evening!