Well! Last Monday Evening, When We Were Down At Denver, We Got A Wire From Peter, Which Coolly Said,

Well! Last Monday evening, when we were down at Denver, we got a wire from Peter, which coolly said, "If you really want to see me married, try St. Cross Church, Oxford, to-morrow at two."

guys, the calender has lined up!! Tomorrow is Tuesday, the 8th of October, aka Lord Peter and Harriet's wedding day (and 89th anniversary). this is your chance to read Busman's Honeymoon in real time! (aside from the Dowager's diary, unfortunately)

If you do keep track of the days in Busman's Honeymoon, it's a bit unsettling how quickly it all happens, because SO MUCH happens. Tomorrow they will be married in Oxford; and the mystery (of which they are as yet blissfully unaware) will be solved on Friday. On Saturday, they will arrive at the Dower House in the small hours of the morning, and on Sunday Peter will read the lesson in church...

(Yes, in spite of all their mutual angst about the Peter's potential failure, he solves this one in forty-eight hours.)

Hijacking this because I'm obsessed with how the whole first chapter of The Hobbit is basically describing how gay Bilbo is but also Tolkien (the catholic hetero Wife Guy) gives off such Zero Gaydar vibes that like... I'm not always convinced he even knew what he was saying.

I'm reading about the Victorian Aesthetic movement and I was violently reminded of...

...Sherlock Holmes's 'rose monologue' from The Naval Treaty, HI HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME

cackle-cackle-CACKLE-cackle cackle cackle cackl-ing

Anybody else ever start maniacally laughing because of how much you love Gilbert and Sullivan?? Just me? I’ll see myself out.

August, 1943. As the war rages on, Peter Wimsey wants nothing more than to spend a few quiet days with his family at Talboys. His plans are foiled by a call from Parker, with news of a triple murder that has the police completely stumped. Initially reluctant to involve himself, Peter finds himself drawn in as he learns the peculiar facts of the case. A man and his parents, found dead in their home: no signs of injury, no signs of a struggle, and no suspects, except one.

The gardener, Frank.

The coincidence is enough to convince Peter to examine the case, and his conviction that Frank is innocent makes him determined to find the true killer. But the more he looks into this case, the stranger the riddle grows. And the mystery takes another turn when he meets a tall, auburn-haired man with eccentric clothes and half-moon spectacles, who seems to know more than he lets on...

Meanwhile, at Talboys, Harriet writes to Peter with news that she can hardly believe, let alone put to paper. There must, she thinks, be some reasonable explanation for what five-year-old Roger just did.

But she can't escape the fact that it did look suspiciously like... magic.

(on a scale of my darlin' sportin' Jenny to Bess the Landlord's Daughter) how much do you care about that robber you're dating?

the tv tropes page for the book you just read is the digestif. no explanation needed. fanfiction is pure indulgence, it's the dessert. the memes are like when you sneak back downstairs at 1am to eat a few more bites, standing in front of the open fridge.

movie adaptations are when you reheat the leftovers several days later. sometimes it's surprisingly good. sometimes it makes you violently ill.