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a new home

we’ve moved to a new home at unabridgedopinions.com.  See you there!

two by marsh


Ngaio Marsh, and Agatha Christie, and John Dickinson Carr, occupy a special place in my childhood history of reading. Sometime in between The Hobbit and Foundation, I went on what can only be described as a British mystery reading spree and attempted to read everything these people had ever written. Along with,of course, everything Arthur Conan Doyle had ever written. Ngaio Marsh, though she had the smallest number of books (and, well, is technically a New Zealander), outshines everyone on pure quality of her writing.
Two of my favourites are Vintage Murder and Death of a Peer, and, as I wend my way through my library, I picked them up to read during our recent snow storm.
Vintage Murder is an early, and fun, book in the Roderick Alleyn series. This one takes place as he is travelling through New Zealand and recovering from some unspecified operation. It is early in the canon as he is not yet married or dreaming of his future wife. There is a rugby-hooligan type incident on a train that ends with a bruised backside on one of the characters and a theft before the main murder even occurs. This book has a number of characters, and following every movement of each person can get baffling at times; however, Marsh never makes the reader feel as if Alleyn knows something special or has super-powers, merely that his powers of deduction are sharp and that all of the information is there that is necessary to solve the mystery along with him.
It is interesting to note that the translations of the book all mention the murder weapon, but lose the pun inherent in the original title.
Death of a Peer, though, contains at its heart one of Marsh’s best creations, the Lamprey family. Dotty, eccentric, lovable, they form the center of a locked room mystery–and distract the reader from the horror of the crime itself. They nearly distract the detectives as well, but as Marsh’s Inspector Alleyn can always be relied upon to re-center himself, the distraction does not prove fatal and all of the clues are neatly laid out in the narrative itself. One of the characters even appears in a later book (Night at the Vulcan) and the quiet romance is dealt with deftly. Very well-plotted, very “British”, very enjoyable.

If you enjoy Christie, or even more recent incarnations such as Anne Perry, Ngaio Marsh would be well worth giving a try.


The past few days have been a mess. Today, I made a mess. A burnt, smokey, stuck to the sides of the muffin-tin mess. I got distracted by the content I was helping a friend write for her website, and I had forgotten several things about the oven in our flat. The first, it’s convection, which means I need to subtract time and temperature from the recipes I thought I knew by heart; second, well, things had been going pear-shaped in general so I should have been more attentive in general, and third…. let’s just say that with constantly converting temperature, weight, ingredients, and general culture, well, I was bound to slip up somewhere.
The plus was, of course, I had to snap out of my malaise and figure out what to do with twelve well-toasted muffins.

Well, beside throwing them away. The chocolate I had added to them was lovely, and it seemed a shame to waste anything that was actually edible. So, on my way to my husband’s work to rewrite my C.V. again (but this time somewhere with a printer), I carried in my hands—-muffin middles. Unattractive they may be, but they taste lovely, and I’m sure it’s that chocolate that finally allowed me to get through rewriting my CV in what is apparently known as a “skills” format. All I know is that I need a job. Although I LOVE writing content and reviews, I’m currently doing it for free (or bartering for free books or horseback riding), and well, I’d like to rejoin the workforce, thank you.
So here’s hoping the muffin middles did the trick, and I’m on my way to gainful employment.
(I feel I should say that I couldn’t take a picture of the middles. So, instead, I treated myself to a second look at the cupcakes we had at our wedding. Mmmm. They tasted and looked good.)


Well, I have had my second UK riding lesson, and I have to say that this one went much better. Of course, once again, it decided to rain just while I was trying to walk to and from the bus stops, but it was only rain and not the sleet that greeted my last week, so things were looking up, all told.
My last lesson had been a bit complicated by my being completely out of shape,and the instructor announcing that he was quitting to find a better job later that week. He was nice enough, but I felt awkward and embarrassed to be *making* him do something that he quite clearly did not want to do. Also, ummm, I didn’t know the guy at all and felt just a tiny bit weirded out to be told that he was quitting because he had gotten “too intense.” (I had no idea what that even meant.)
But enough about the last lesson, this one was much more fun–and not just because the trainer told me I was tall and skinny.
For the record, *tall* is a very unusual way to describe me–I barely hit 5’4” when I stand very very tall and the skinny bit, while complimentary and possible at times in my life, is unlikely to be true after 2 months off of any exercise and my first English Christmas.
I decided that it was my magic black full-seats, though, and moved on. This lesson, we worked a bit on me, and a bit on the horse. Her name was Jenny (so, yes, easy for me to remember), and she was a typical riding school horse. *She* knew the proper way to do something, but she also knew an easier way, and getting the proper way out of her required some diligence and tact (and one whomping kick with an outside leg).
She was a love though and really helped emphasize the very weird habit I have of looking to the inside when I’m riding in a small space. I was all by myself in the ring, but I was acting as if I had to constantly look across the arena for others, instead of looking where we were going. After Jenny neatly reminded me of this fact by almost jumping the mounting block, we got along very well and worked on some jumping.
I had a great time jumping! I really need to work on my show jumping skills (I love cross-country and dressage, but show jumping has ALWAYS been where I have issues. Ummm, because I don’t like fences I can completely destroy?) So, we worked on me supporting her up to the base of the fence. Because she’s not all that scopey, I had to really convince her she could make it over, and then help balance her on the other side. Mostly, it involved me really rocking her back around the corner–almost like balancing on a skateboard when you want to turn–we had to make sure that the energy was balanced a bit behind us so we came around the corner lightly and straight.
By the end, we had a nice little rhythm going, and we took several nice fences. I’m very excited for my lesson next week. Ideally, I would like to ride more than once a week, but I need to find some way of supporting the habit first. Or, maybe, a share situation where I could get fitter and help someone out with a horse as well, who knows. Either way, I’m glad I’ve started riding again. I missed it. And, I’m actually glad I’m riding the bus. It’s really given me a way to learn my way around Manchester… And, I appreciated that the same group of little-old-ladies was on the bus this week and wanted to know ALL about my previous lesson.