For anyone who's missed me, aim better next time; but if you're wondering where I've been, the answer is mostly in bed.
And for those of you who *I've* missed (hi Jimmy!) I can't promise you I'll be around all that regularly yet, but it is very good to be back.

Me: "Does that thing measure the actual temperature of the room?"

He *proudly* "Yes! So -"

Me: "So it's twenty degrees *in this room* with the curtains drawn."

He: "..."

Me: "Touch 'em and die."

Alas, I saw it too late!

*One* of them is an ancient witch who collects antiques and who has been looking for this precise creamer for a very long time.

The other is a small child who has an unfortunate accident with a tennis ball and now needs to replace a valued family heirloom before anyone notices.

And then there's the terrifying allure of the Teasmade.

Oh very much so.

I meant more that yes, they're *there*, but they aren't the point.

There are gay themes and characters in Le Guin’s novels in the same way, and probably for the same reason, as there are in Neil Gaiman’s: to match real life.

So naturally, in both cases, people kick up a fuss and say they’re overdoing it.