Kristie and I have been at odds with Brigitte of Witchcraft's ever since I presented the first edition of the new Cord magazine.
Ron, the old bugger who has cut and pasted together interesting 'witchy' articles for years, was a little offended that Spellbound Books took prominence on the back cover.
Well, Brigitte was left to sort out the matter - and her snaky little shop fairy did a fair bit of aggressive sorting herself. Offended for being treated without consideration, I asserted that if Spellbound didn't appear on the back cover I would simply not produce the magazine. Kristie then took over.
Ron's concern was valid, however, and everyone seemed happy for Spellbound to appear as small print on the back cover.
But everyone was not happy.
This became apparent as the weeks went on. Whenever either Kristie or I tried to make contact with Brigitte she wasn't there - sure she was busy, but it's a fair assumption to make that she was avoiding us.
My theory: I take a lot of money out of the shop and don't usually buy anything. My books sell through the shop and Brigitte only makes between 12 and 18% instead of her usual 50%.

And perhaps Brigitte (and cronies) think that Kristie and I have become too big for our britches.

Kristie and I went to the shop today. We waited patiently for Brigitte to finish with the people who were there, for the phone calls that had to be made, for the dope she had to smoke - for her to make eye contact with us or to speak a word our way.
I tried to pin Brigitte to her scruples and asked her what was wrong - what had we done?
'Nothing's wrong. You haven't done anything. In fact I think you're both really great people.'
But she and Mark want nothing of our friendship anymore because 'there can be no friends in business'.
Strange business policy, especially when Kristie informed me that the Japanese form friendships with prospective business partners - if the friendship fails then the business surely will.
And who's the major economic power in the Pacific? Certainly not Brigitte's shop.

About $170 actually. That's how much it cost after losing a valve clearance adjuster screw in the motorbike last week.
It was a stressful time, and I was looking to enjoy myself by making the motorbike as good as new. But my bike has never been easy to work on, and it's a wonder I don't drop things into the motor every time I touch a spanner.
Magnets on wire, mirrors, grabby claw things like the one Arnold Swartzenegger stuck up his nose in Total Recall - nothing helped.

Opening up the motor showed what lovely condition all the bits are in - and how many buckets of oil it holds - but no screw.
All the money I had made from bookbinding fell into the mechanic's smiling maw like toffee.
It wasn't a fun week.

No, not really. Highlights of the past few weeks involved stumbling into Beau from the Beaurepaires ad (he is a big man), and my being published in Inclusion magazine.
'Come Morning', the teenage/homosexual suicide story, looked really good with the roses and the ants. On reading, however, the bullet wound became bullet wounds and the suicide sounded more like a murder (or a very clumsy suicide at least). But it looked good. An illustration of mine also made an appearance.

The Familiar Clash of Swords

Last weekend was the Birdwood Medieval Festival, which we managed to con Riff and Bec (and Rachel, Bec's little sister) into coming along.