Alice [Goes Indexing] in Wonderland

It is clear that I haven’t quite mastered the art of part-time working yet. I have collated a list of keywords for the first, general index, and that’s just waiting for when I get to see the proofs. The next step was to get the copy-edited book manuscript back to the copy-editor. I cheerfully threw myself into that task too. Domesticity was forced into spare minutes. I have no idea how long I spent – but I did it. I made all my little tweaks and corrections to the manuscript, and off it went. Now, all that remained was to collate a list of music titles for the second index of historical Scottish publications. Between Friday and today, I did that, too. It’s a long, long list!

Do we have a Crisis? Or don’t we?

There was a problem, though. Whilst we live in Glasgow, most of my relatives are hundreds of miles away, and when a family concern raises its head, I immediately go into ‘prepare for a crisis’ overdrive.

Distractions!

  • My car went to the garage for a once-over, just in case I needed to drop everything. Back home, and back to indexing. It’s strange, trying to concentrate on something super-important, whilst wondering if you’ll still be at home in two hours, two days or two weeks …
  • Thinking of the family in Glasgow, I ordered ready-meals online from a different supermarket to my usual one, simply because they could deliver them quicker. This worked – reasonably well – but with some reservations. (I had to go out this evening, to buy things that I’d missed …)
  • Messages have flown between Glasgow and ‘down south’, in between checking 19th century publication dates and deciding where cross-references might be needed. It’s a bit disorientating!
  • I had a trip to Dundee on Saturday, grateful to be going somewhere else and doing something different for a few hours, and then – yup, back to indexing again. Organist duties on Sunday. More indexing. Dinner prepared and consumed. Still more indexing. And so on!
  • Because of the nature of the potential crisis, it all felt very much like Alice-in-Wonderland, where nothing seemed logical or predictable. Indeed, Alice’s rabbit-hole might have seemed a calm and welcoming place by comparison.

‘Late, Late, for a Very Important Date?’ Not Me!

Image from Pixabay

My main concern was that I had to get the book to a point where I literally could go no further, pending receipt of the proofs for adding page-numbers to the two indices. If the potential crisis proves to be an actual one, that means I can shove the laptop and printouts into a bag and take them with me. My book-writing is an unfathomable mystery to most of my English family, who aren’t up-to-date with what I get up to, and consider me really somewhat eccentric and excessive in what interests me, but even in a crisis, I don’t want to hold up the publishing process!

I think I’m now at the point where I can do no more. I should probably do something completely different, away from the laptop, tomorrow. There will assuredly be family messages which I can pick up on my phone, but I cannot do any more to the book. Maybe I should sew something. Oh, and get the hedges cut, just in case I have to desert them in a hurry …

If I’m still in Glasgow on Wednesday, I can turn my attention to future research-planning. It’ll feel more like a research day if I’ve had a relaxed day before it!

Missing! The Cook’s Oracle!

A lecturer (William Kitchiner) about to address a lecture on Wellcome V0015819
On the left – Dr William Kitchiner, lecturing on optics

Kitchiner cookbook dedication
Since my kitchen is littered with (most of) the ingredients for our Christmas cake, it seems appropriate to devote a short post to a significant publication from 1817 (yes, my new favourite year!) – Dr William Kitchiner’s The Cook’s Oracle. We’ve encountered Dr Kitchiner before, on account of his patriotic and sea song books. They weren’t particularly well-received.

Dr Kitchiner had other interests, though.  He lectured on optics, and was a published expert on cookery and nutrition. He hoped that his cookbook would provide good, solid nutritional guidelines. Wikipedia reports that he was an exceptional cook, and his was a household name. I haven’t gone so far as to check this out, but I’ve found you a simple suet pudding to try!

You can read the ENTIRE book online, if you’re so inclined:-

Apicius Redivivus: Or, The Cook’s Oracle

(The 2nd edition even begins with an Anacreontic Song, if you please, combining his passions for music and food.)

Whilst checking the King’s Inns guardbooks for national songbooks, I naturally looked for Kitchiner, though I didn’t really imagine there would be much appetite for English national songs. I was unsurprised to find it absent from the catalogue – but there was clearly an appetite for Apicius Redivivus! There it was, in the guardbook under Kitchiner’s name.  Perhaps struggling to decide where to shelve it, the Victorian librarians ended up putting it in the “literature” section – the same as the minstrelsy material.

But it wasn’t on the shelves. (Someone kindly checked for me!) Who borrowed the cookbook and didn’t return it? Or misshelved it? Or dropped it in the broth, or used it until it fell to bits? I have a good imagination, but maybe I should stick to hard facts. And, tempting as it is to try the recipes straight away, I should probably bake our own Christmas cake first!  My family will probably be glad to learn that Dr Kitchiner only mentions Christmas in connection with the seasons for oysters and House Lamb – which differs from Grass Lamb , and is eaten from Christmas until Lady-Day.  So their annual treat won’t be any different from previous iterations!