Year of the Owl

Don't I live in a gorgeous city?

First, a little importuning: I know, it's a bit much coming from someone who's had more than her fair share of luck lately. But I'd really like you to vote for me for best horror short story for It's a Curse. Pretty please? And as long as you're voting, you could also vote for the anthology I'm in, Dark Pages: International Noir, and for the Queen of Everything for best cover for Four Play and our pal C. Margery Kempe for best romance short, Dragger Ella. Thank you ever so. Only a couple more days to go. These contests can help boost sales and get a little attention. It's a constant battle against obscurity.

Full moon tonight. Where wolf? There, wolf!

Tip of the hat to my pal Mr B for pointing me to a post by Iain Rowan on "folk horror" inspirations from the past. Alan Garner's Owl Service has come up before. Probably Mr B mentioned (along with things like The Tomorrow People and Children of the Stones) the series made from the novel which looks amazing. Must track down the book: the library here doesn't have it, but I'm sure I can locate a copy. I don't know how I missed Garner's books as they clearly fit my own obsessions. More on this tomorrow.

I know in Chinese astrology the coming year will be the Year of the Dragon, but for me all signs point to it being the Year of the Owl. Yes, in part because of the forthcoming release of Owl Stretching (at last, at last), but there's something more. Everywhere I turn, it's owls. I know, birds a-plenty all around me: my magpies always, the swans of Galway, more rooks than you can shake a stick at. But owls keep popping up at significant moments. We shall see what that means.

So from Professor Elemental on Twitter this morning, a gift for you:

Mistaken Identity

Happy new year, everyone. It's been a cold and damp one so far in Ireland (shock!) but Miss Wendy and I managed to get out in the bit of sun yesterday for a little while to do some wandering and bird watching. New birds sighted included  chirpy little robin and moorhen up by Salmon Weir. It turns out that all the "crows" I have been seeing around the city are really rooks. Here's a dramatic shot of one out on Nimmo's pier who let me get quite close.

New Years Day gave us some good (if overlapping) television including Eddie Izzard's Treasure Island, a new episode of Sherlock and another AbFab. We only watched the first hour of the pirate yarn and then switched over to see Holmes and Watson -- and of course, Irene Adler. I wish I could say that Moffat & Co did her proud; for the greater part they did, but then by the end... sigh. Why do so many people have such a hard time seeing women as people, not just "not men"? If you haven't seen the "magic womb" Xmas episode of Doctor Who you might not find it as irksome. Then again you might. AbFab was amusing and gave Jane Horrocks a chance to show off her uncanny singing abilities. Edina's outfits were eye-searingly painful.

Bank holiday today: not sure what might be open. Sun's out at the moment. We're thinking of going to the islands tomorrow. More adventures!