Monday 31 December 2018

The Year of the Constellation Coven Awards

 Good evening, and welcome to the 2018 Coven Awards!
  Yes, here we are again for our traditional, very selective look back at the year that was.
 This year - the Year of the Constellation - has not been as varied as some previous years-
Mainly because Witchface is a lazy baggage-
And the Host is dreadfully dull!
 Oh, just stop this now.
  Yes, why must we devolve into bickering every year?
What a stupid question.
Because we're good at it!
Heh heh heh!
  Oh, I give up...
 Well, I'm ignoring the shitting SubCs and launching this thing now!

January : The dawn of a new year broke over the cliff tops as we didn't manage to start afresh; the year's first foray into Star Trek was some finally finished unfinished business; capturing constellations began with a bit of "Drama!" and was rather exposing; a big, overgrown groyne featured in a return to the beach; the first trip over the Cusp coincided with LẌ's birthday; Beaky's return had us all of a flutter, and his larger cousin led us to a crusty old groyne with knobs on; finally, after some star-mapping experiments, I got my tripod out!

Wednesday 26 December 2018

Wishing you a Wonderful Winterval

 Not quite a White Christmas, but a heavyish frost yesterday morning gave the illusion in certain sheltered areas up near Cromer Lighthouse.
 Yes, I managed to find a couple of hours to myself yesterday (i.e. I escaped from the kids) and got up to the lighthouse in the early morning here in Cromer, then down onto the beach in Overstrand in the afternoon.

Saturday 1 December 2018

Run! Run! As fast as you can!

 I am moving again.

 As plummeting down the cliff in one's own home is practically unheard of in witchy circles*, I am moving out of Château DeVice and into a more life-prolonging gingerbread house.  It's only a few hundred yards from my current cliff-top abode and - importantly - those few hundred yards are inland.  My new home is nearer the woods (and the allotment), and not likely to find itself scattered across the beach after collapsing over the cliff for at least a couple of centuries (possibly only one, if sea levels continue to rise dramatically). 

 Gingerbread houses are hard to come by these days as most of the originals have been devoured by thoughtless, greedy children over the centuries, or dissolved in the rain when their occupant met Death for the last time and the preservative spell wore off.  Those that are left tend to be inhabited by mad old crones, or have been turned into sites of occult historical interest by the Gingerbread Board.  Speaking of which, the 'Board occasionally permits a new gingerbread house to be built as long as circumstances, conditions, and quotas allow.  Quite what those circumstances, conditions and quotas are is anyone's guess as the 'Board are quite inscrutable and experts in obfuscation and dead-end paper trails.  As I can attest to after I applied for a new home...**

 I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea?  I suspect the SubCs had something to do with it and, typically, they buggered off and left me to it when I found myself before the Gingerbread Board to demonstrate my suitability to own and maintain a new gingerbread home.  I'm not going to go into all the rigmarole and hoop-jumping I had to go through (and am still going through), as it was - and still is - very stressful and mind-boggling.