Back to posting

I'm afraid I've been very lax about posting lately. This is partly because I have been busy with a few projects, and partly because I recently contracted the bubonic plague, which has evidently been sweeping across London, and soon the city will belong to the rats. (Admittedly, my doctor told me that I (and everybody else she had seen that week) had an ordinary flu, but that only proves that she is secretly in league with the rats.)

Fortunately, I am now feeling vastly better, and will try to start posting again.

The major disappointment of being ill, by the way, was that--contrary to everything I had learned from a lifetime of reading nineteenth-century novels-- no matter how long you lie in your sickbed on the top floor of a Victorian home, no elderly widowed aunts, virtuous young maidens, or charmingly malapropic country parson's wives will stop by to nurse you to health, nor will your illness lead to a series of startling revelations that result in your inheriting of a sizable country estate. I feel horribly deceived by the entire Penguin Classics line, and I am considering a class-action lawsuit.