I found a lovely passage of kitchen-witchery in the book I'm rereading (Whisky and Water
, by Elizabeth Bear). I need to get a copy to kuchenhexe
because I think she'd get a kick out of it. I'm enjoying my re-read of that series (The Promethean Age
) -- there are two books (Blood and Iron
and Whisky and Water
) set in the modern world, with two set in Elizabethan England coming out soon. It's urban fantasy, but it feels different than The Dresden Files
. While Harry has a page out of the pulp hero, the world in The Promethean Age
is much more complicated. It's not the sort of thing that a guy with a quick wit and handy fireball can easy come in and make things mostly right in 400 pages. Don't get me wrong -- I like both, but they are a bit of different tastes, for all that both are clearly in the 'urban fantasy' subgenre.
Though Whisky and Water
does feature the Archangel Michael in a Trogdor the Burninator T-shirt.
It says something about me that I am the sort of person who, after a thunderstorm and upon noticing that the Sun has come out, will dash outside to see if there is a rainbow. I like to think that that something is flattering.
I like my slow-cooker. The reason is that I can spend fifteen minutes shoving canned/frozen vegetables and chunks of chicken into it, add some herbs, and when I get home, dinner (with enough for lunch the next day) is waiting. The house even smells like cooking. I feel horribly domestic, except it's the kind of domesticity that I like -- the kind that takes very little work for the results.