By a hare's breadth

You know that hare thing, that way of running races where you streak ahead and then go to the pub for a bit because you're so cocky, and so lose...?

I appear to be a hare. Here I am in the midst of this oh-so-serious race-to-the-end-of-the-novel with la_marquise_de_, and I go off to Sunderland for twenty-four hours. I did do some work before I went, and some there this morning, and a little after I got home again - but I'm tired now. Total for the last two days is 2478 words, which is less than a ration. Bah. *is hare-brained*

In other news, how can The Mystery of the Golden Spider Beetle not be a tale of enchantment and terror from a hundred years ago, almost certainly featuring the Yellow Peril?

As it happens, the mystery was solved by a nice Rentokil lady this morning, and golden spider beetles is what they are, these little insects infesting Bryan & Mary's roofspace and dropping through into the attic bathroom lampshade. They live on the linings of gull's nests, apparently, the naughty little munchers.

In other other news, B&M had chilli cashew nuts coated with what is alleged to be the hottest chilli in the world. The packet had a warning on it, that it was not to be carried or eaten by people under eighteen. Obviously that is not enforceable in any jurisdiction - indeed, it is obviously just an inducement - but, well. Nearly-but-not-quite too hot for me. I may have eaten half a dozen of them, but I should probably have stopped sooner. Oof.