We finally got rain (and storms) last night. Not excessive; I didn't see any evidence of flooding.

It did wake me up. I was dreaming about a thunderstorm, actually - I suppose I was hearing it and it was impinging on my subconscious. But then I thought "Wait, it just got awfully quiet" and I woke up. It turns out we had a momentary power outage - not enough to un-set the clock on the combined CD player/radio/tape player that I use as an alarm clock, but it did make the white noise machine I use shut itself off - and I heard the absence of white noise, and it woke me up. Weird.

(I am way too light of a sleeper, I think).

***

I'm reading along in the first of the Georgette Heyer mysteries I bought.

They are really fun. They are pretty much the classic Golden Age set-up (or at least this one - Envious Casca - is: Large English country house. Family that is kind of strained in its relations. Rich, rather unpleasant older brother who likes to lord it over everyone and threatens to change his will every time someone insults him. Younger brother who is a bit of a fool. The only "sensible" member of the family (apparently; though she could turn out to be the murderer, I suppose) is a less-wealthy unmarried female cousin who writes for a magazine (if I remember rightly) and breeds dogs. (I do love a gentry-family novel where one of the poorer relations - and a spinster at that - is the only one with any sense).

Even better, it's set at Christmastime, where Joseph (the foolish younger brother who lives in the family manse at the sufferance of his older brother) wants to have a "real old-fashioned family Christmas" and no one much (other than Mathilda, the female cousin I referred to above) shows any enthusiasm for.

And there's a stage-besotted cousin, and the putative heir who is as unpleasant as the old man himself. And there's the idiot playwright that the stage-besotted cousin brought along. And the foolish girlfriend of the putative heir.

I've just hit the point of the murder (you can perhaps guess which of those characters it is, if you read Golden Age mysteries at all). I expect now the Inspector will step in and take over and figure things out.

In a way, the book reminds me very much of some of the Ngaio Marsh I've read.

Interestingly enough, the title refers back (though I didn't remember until doing a bit of research) to Julius Caesar:

"Look, in this place ran Cassius’ dagger through:/
See what a rent the envious Casca made: "

The death in the mystery, in fact, appears to be by stabbing. (I have my suspicious as to who may have done it, but sometimes I am surprised by these things. I just hope it wasn't Mathilda; I rather like her.)