Rejected!

Damn: the Arts Council will not be sending me to Aus and NZ conventions this autumn. They turned down my grant application because "the activity you applied for will not benefit the public, either in the short or long term."

I'm not sure that's actually true, in either the short or the long term (obviously I have to believe I bring something to panels and that people benefit from my readings, or I wouldn't do 'em; and equally obviously I have to believe that travel to conventions will make me a better writer, or I wouldn't go; and ditto ditto that my books are a generic benefit long-term). If I wanted to grumble, it would be because the Arts Council used to take it for granted that personal and professional development was a legitimate aim in itself, that benefit to the artist was an inherent benefit to the public. Now they've gone all populist and bums-on-seats, apparently. Which is pretty much going to spell the end of my relationship with them, because what I do is not quantifiable in that way.

Hey-ho. To live well is the best revenge. I shall bake bread, and write a better book.

I said they'd be sorry...

According to a chunk of the current project:

I write like
Kurt Vonnegut

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

That'll do me.

Another question!

What's that word hill-farmers use, to mean that their sheep are psychologically bonded from birth to a particular hillside?

[ETA: hefted! With thanks to the_magician]

False quantities

The nice thing about having made an absurd amount of chicken stock, when one's freezer is already overstuffed? Is that it obliges one to cook things like paella, which soak up chicken stock.

The nice bad thing about having bought one's gin in a 1.5-litre bottle? Is that it is absurdly easy to pour Way Too Much Gin into a glass, especially after having drunk half a bottle of wine, thus obliging one to become utterly sozzled at the end of the day. Hey-ho.