[Yes, the perpetual reminder: all the EZLN, zapatista and Other Campaign translations are in our Library.]
Friday night, which means in Our Lovely New World, there shall be no news to trouble our little minds, or to drag the big money newsreaders into work, until Monday.
And not a moment too soon, as far as I’m concerned. After all, there are reams of relatoria to be translated, and paragraphs of fiction to be concocted for ruthless, yet fetchingly naïve, estate agents in Barcelona.
Speaking of which [fiction, ruthless, reams: take your pick] I’m hoping to have several new sections of YO! Basta up in time for frivolous Sunday reading. Hot photos, breaking gossip, meticulously footnoted op-ed pieces. And we’re also still looking for a Resident Astrologer, of any bent whatsoever.
Now I’m off to celebrate the evening in style, knitting tiny things, plotting whilst I knit, sipping whilst knitting and plotting.