“Make sure you do an editorial,” Jon said. So here it is. I haven’t the foggiest what to write; normally I just pick at other bloggers’ work like a strict Victorian schoolmistress who has noticed a dodgy stitch in a pupil’s embroidery (I rarely screech “You will do this again, you stupid child!”, however, as much as Jon accuses me of pedantry and grammar fascism).
One thing worthy of note has happened to me this week that is vaguely cryptozoological in nature: I’ve converted someone! My nephew Leo, who will be two in a few weeks, was busy scribbling in black pen over important documents (as usual) when he chanced upon my latest Fortean Times and though it too received more than its fair share of additional illustration, the darling little vandal DID stop briefly to gaze in wonder at the pictures, particularly at the chimera on page 18. After a few minutes he excitedly squealed “Giraffe; birdie; Gee-gee!” and promptly drew over that as well. At least if he doesn’t become the next Picasso he could be a zoologist.
One thing worthy of note has happened to me this week that is vaguely cryptozoological in nature: I’ve converted someone! My nephew Leo, who will be two in a few weeks, was busy scribbling in black pen over important documents (as usual) when he chanced upon my latest Fortean Times and though it too received more than its fair share of additional illustration, the darling little vandal DID stop briefly to gaze in wonder at the pictures, particularly at the chimera on page 18. After a few minutes he excitedly squealed “Giraffe; birdie; Gee-gee!” and promptly drew over that as well. At least if he doesn’t become the next Picasso he could be a zoologist.
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