If the weather is foul

Last week's weather was just a bit bemusing. First there was sun, then rain, then sun, then hail, then snow, then sun, then snow. And all in one day. Our garden was all white and blankety for a little while, but yesterday the flowers were blooming in the sunshine.

Finished working on my first text for the OED, a fifteenth-century English chronicle. I love medieval spelling, if only because it occasionally throws up gems such as "the cuntesse" (countess), the "Arsbishop" of Canterbury and, in a moment worthy of Blackadder, the "duke of Ostrich". It also entertained with accounts of the king of France dancing around dressed up as a wildman, only for his pitch-covered costume to catch on fire, and a lovingly detailed description of a certain king of England being killed with a red-hot poker inserted into his Archbishop. I warn anyone who intends to piss me off in the future - don't; I know exactly how to do the red-hot poker trick now, and I'm not afraid to use it...