Names.

Saint Peter denies Christ.

Etching by Gustav Dore.

I spent a very pleasant weekend mainly in the company of my wife. Mrs. Kinch is back in employment again, after a quietness in the theatrical line, and blessed be the day. Mrs. Kinch is a great deal more tractable when she has an occupation. Not much painting was done over the weekend, but I did make a decent fist of the remainder of my first Charge! regiment. All bar the Chef de Brigade are finished. Considering how fond I am of the mounted arm, you would think that I would enjoy painting horses, but sadly it is not so.

I've been doing my first piece of writing for a span and finally had the break that I needed on Saturday. Send out for the shopping, I dawdled for half an hour on my way back reading Kipling online in a cyber cafe and trying to eavesdrop on the Indian proprietor. I think I am beginning to get a whiff of English as it is spoken on the sub-continent. There seem to be a lot of short sentences, but long multi-syllabic words. Hearing an Irish policeman hailed by an Indian businessman with, "Ah Pascal, what is the story"* in the tones of Dublin by way of Bombay says more about the changes in Irish society in the last ten years than any amount of news print.
Still I got what I needed and the first draft is done. I'll put it up here when it's done.

While I was writing the story, I came across some notes for Ruritania. I've been neglecting Ruritania. I should do some more work on it or at least type up those notes. I've been thinking about changing the name. When I was writing it at first Ruritania was a useful handle, but I think its begun to outgrow it. I have a very strong idea of who the Ruritanians are, a proud, churchy, musical people; poor but respectable, parochial, but not overly chauvinistic.

Keonig und Kirk und Kinder. The K and K and K of Ruritanian life, King, Church and Family. It probably doesn't work in German, but I know what I mean.

Georgia was on my mind, so I thought about renaming Ruritania after a Saint.

Pretoria has a nice ring to it, but it has unpleasant associations. I always hear it in the voice of Rhodesian friend of mine, the purring R and the soft T of his not quite English, not quite South African accent. He was a Rhodesian; he was NOT from Zimbabwe. Despite his support for an appalling regime, he was by most measures a sterling fellow and an excellent dinner companion. He came to Ireland immediately after the end of the Smith government and worked as a hydrologist. I always imagined him dying here and being buried in a lonely way, like the White Russians in the Non Catholic cemetary in Rome, but he moved to South Africa last year. However much he said he hated majority rule, I think he missed Africa more.

What other Saints are an option? Boniface? Hippolytus? Michael?

It's got to sound good with -ania, -ovia or a similar suffix.



*(Aahh PAS-cal WHAT izz the STOR-ey)