Midnight Mysteries

Here’s something I’ve been working on in the spring and summer of 2026: Midnight Mysteries. Midnight Mysteries is a table-top role-playing game inspired by the genre of the classic British fair-play mystery, whose famous authors include the likes of Agatha Christie, G. K. Chesterton, and Dorothy Sayers. In this game, players act as amateur sleuths solving a mystery, guided by one player who takes on the role of Narrator. While the Narrator keeps secrets and doles out clues, however, they do not know the solution to the mystery. In fact, there is no set solution to a Midnight Mystery; it is up to the players to work together to assemble the clues they find into a convincing solution of their own.

Midnight Mysteries is free to download, share, and play. You can find the complete rules and a sample mystery, “Murder at Muckleton Manor,” below as pdfs. Happy sleuthing!

Midnight Mysteries complete rules

Murder at Muckleton Manor

Thatching Around the World

I didn’t grow up in a place where thatched roofs were part of the local tradition, so to me they have always had a slightly fantastical, fairy-tale allure. I always associated them with cozy European cottages, but when I was idly searching for pictures one day I discovered how much more widely the tradition is practiced. Here’s a selection, very far from comprehensive, of some of the interesting thatches I stumbled across.

Of course, thatched roofs are perfectly in style for cozy cottages, like this one in Dunkineely, Ireland.

Thatched house at Bloody Bridge, Dunkineely, Ireland, photograph by Louise Price via Geograph

Thatching is also an option for larger houses, like this one in Charlevoix, Michigan, in the US.

Modern thatched house, Charlevoix, Michigan, US, photograph by Deb Nystrom via Flickr

These small thatched roofs in Bali, Indonesia, have decorative tops.

Thatched roofs in Bali, Indonesia, photograph by CEphoto, Uwe Aranas via Wikimedia

This house, on an elephant reserve in Mozambique, has many tiers of thatching that make the roof as decorative as it is practical.

Thatched house in Mozambique, photograph by Leandro Neumann Ciuffo via Wikimedia

And here is what an Incan thatched roof might have looked like, from a reconstructed house at Machu Picchu in Peru.

Reconstructed Incan thatched building, Machu Pichu, Peru, photograph by RG72 via Wikimedia

There’s a lot of thatching going on in the world!

Quotes: Illogical Does not Mean Inexplicable

The old Star Trek novel How Much for Just the Planet? is an odd book: an original-series Star Trek musical comedy farce in novel form. It concerns a planet called Direidi, where the eccentric local population reacts to the arrival of a Federation diplomatic mission and a rival Klingon deputation by putting both delegations through a series of increasingly wacky and nonsensical dramatic adventures (wacky and nonsensical even by the standards of original-series Star Trek, which is saying something).

In the midst of the general absurdity, though, the book delivers a poignant observation on life:

Spock sat alone on the bridge, contemplating the Direidi situation. He had been following the movements of the Enterprise crew to the best of his ability, given the effects of the background radiation. Terribly illogical things were happening on the planetary surface.

Spock had known for a long time, however, that when reasoning beings were involved, “illogical” by no means meant “inexplicable.” In fact, a great number of societal explanations required the suspension of logic, and sometimes working entirely outside its strictures.

How Much for Just the Planet? by John M. Ford

What’s true of a planet of theatrical interstellar weirdos is true of life in general. Things don’t always make sense in the way we think they ought to make sense, but they always make sense in some way. There is wisdom in learning to respect other people’s sense, even when it seems like nonsense to us.

Ford, John M. How Much for Just the Planet? New York: Pocket Books, 1987, 172.

Pompeii Reconstructed

Here’s a fascinating project: a digital reconstruction of the Roman city of Pompeii that lets us walk through the streets and wander the houses of the ancient city when it was still a living town. This video shows some highlights of the work produced by Altair 4.

Pompei Then and now [sic] by Altair4 Multimedia Archaeo3D Production via Youtube

A Highlands Set

Using some of the transmog pieces from last year’s Brewfest, I put together a highlands set for my Kul Tiran warrior. Now she’s ready for anything from caber-tossing to haggis-tasting. (Or possibly caber-tasting and haggis-tossing, depending on her mood.)

Here’s the pieces that went into the set.

Images: World of Warcraft screencap

An Urban Orchard in Pompeii

We don’t usually think of cities as places where food is grown. Farmland is a rural thing, and the harvest must be brought to urban markets so that city-dwellers can eat. But urban agriculture is nothing new. The destruction of the Roman city of Pompeii by Vesuvius in 79 CE preserved the evidence of extensive food production inside the city walls. One place where ancient Pompeians could get fresh, super-local food was the house known today as the House of the Ship Europa. (The name comes from a detailed graffito on the house wall depicting a sailing ship with that name.)

This house sits among other houses on the southern side of the city. From the outside, it doesn’t look much different from the dwellings around it. On the inside, though, the house owners had made good use of the space they had for growing a variety of foods.

At the rear of the house, a large walled garden space stood open to the sky. Gardens were not uncommon in Pompeii, and many houses had open courtyards for leisure, but not all were as carefully planned as at this house. Archaeologists studied the layout of the garden, pollen deposits preserved under the volcanic ash, the types of planting pots and tools kept in the space, and even the shapes left in the ground by tree roots to determine how this garden was planted and what grew there.

The core of the garden was laid out in regular rectangular planting plots which match the ways Roman agricultural writers like Cato and Varro recommended planting grapevines. The roots of one large tree were identified as a filbert, a tree which is often planted at the edges of vineyards in modern Italy. The pollen samples from the site had an unusually high amount of grass pollen compared with other Pompeian gardens; while in other houses grasses were weeded out out flower beds or kitchen garden plots, at the House of the Ship Europa, grassy paths were allowed to grow between the grape vines.

Smaller tree roots were found in regular rows along the walls. Since young fruit and nut trees are typically grown by grafting branches from the desired species onto rootstock that may come from a different kind of tree, we cannot tell from the roots alone what smaller trees were planted in this garden. The rootstocks would have been suitable for plums, peaches, cherries, figs, olives, or almonds, and some or all of these foods may have been grown at the house. Elsewhere in the garden were a number of large perforated ceramic pots whose shape and size match the types of planting pots Roman writers recommended for growing citrons, a citrus fruit and ancestor of the lemon.

The burnt remains of filberts, grape seeds, figs, beans and dates were scattered in the layer of volcanic ash that covered the garden. Most of these plants could have been grown at the house, but date palms do not produce fruit in the climate of Italy, so the dates must have been imported. Perhaps the Europa celebrated on the wall of the house was a trading ship belonging to the family. The house may have functioned as a store selling both their own locally grown fruits and nuts and some imported produce from elsewhere in the Mediterranean.

The House of the Ship Europa gives us an idea of what kinds of foods were grown within the walls of Pompeii and were part of the diet of city’s residents. The city was not just a place of residence, but also an agricultural landscape, and we must imagine that other ancient cities were as well.

Image: Fresco of fruits, photograph by the Yorck Project via Wikimedia (House of Julia Felix, Pompeii; c. 70 CE; fresco)

Quotes: Either to Be Bored or to Lie

Dr. Watson comments on the afternoon’s mail to his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes:

“Here is a very fashionable epistle,” I remarked as he entered. “Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a tide-waiter.”

“Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety,” he answered, smiling, “and the humbler are usually the more interesting. This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie.”

As a fellow introvert, I share Holmes’s annoyance with unwelcome social summonses. I have more than once been bored at a social occasion I was expected to attend, and I have been known to lie to get out of events I don’t want to go to.

(For the curious: a fish-monger sells fish, and a tide-waiter was a customs official who historically went aboard ships to oversee the collection of import duties and check for contraband.)

Doyle, Arthur Conan. “The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor.” Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories. Vol. 1. New York: Bantam Books, 1986, 388-89.