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Pretty good day...
Feht (a.k.a., "The Translation Machine") was pounding out a series of what seemed like 16-hour days late last year, which fully justified his taking a month off to go recuperate somewhere, preferably where the sun shines mostly, the rum flows freely, and there are few phone lines and fewer computers. (Then again, who needs an excuse to go visit a place like that? But I digress...) While I was not exactly bereft of work, I had a lot of "spare" time in which to do store work.
It's always a good idea to have something to fall back on. In Feht's case, it's stamps. Philately. Mostly France and Germany before 1945, though his real love, I think, is the pre-1920 period. He's the kind of guy who can take a handful of what look like identical stamps and tell you how they're different, and has the catalogs to help identify the extraordinary from the commonplace. In any event, he's selling stamps on eBay, and doing middlin' well at it (though I'm told it's a lot of work, what with the scanning and all...).
Anyway, work continues to pour in. I put out about 3500 words today, and there's work waiting for me to continue tomorrow. Invoicing is going to have to become a priority Real Soon Now, as I have completed and sent five assignments.
* * * Last August, I picked up a book called 1632, by Eric Flint. I picked the book up again the other day and found it was as good a read the second time as it was the first. As I mentioned in a previous post, the story centers around a West Virginia coal town that is whisked off to Thuringia, in Gernany, in the year 1632, right in the middle of - in the West Virginia town - a wedding attended my numerous members of the United Mine Worker of America, and - in Thuringia - The Thirty Years' War.
When the whisking is over, some of the townsmen go to investigate a possible fire, only to find the road stops in the middle of nowhere, as if cut by a razor. Armed and proceeding on foot, they come to a farmhouse where a half dozen men in steel vests are torturing a farmer and raping his wife. Some time later, a Scots cavalry detachment comes across the site, for what I think is a major establishing scene:
* * * In mundane matters, Drew's teeth have been bothering him, and it got so bad a couple of days ago, I convinced him to go to a dentist.
Sure enough, the situation was allowed to deteriorate to the point where Drew has a root canal scheduled for next Tuesday. In the meantime, he says the meds the doc prescribed aren't helping much. Nothing to do but wait, I guess...
* * * I brought an electronic keyboard and my old guitar from Houston. The past couple of days, I've been breaking out the guitar and sitting down with Huntur, showing her the instrument, playing a few strings, and watching her reaction.
The first couple of times, she seemed a little intimidated by this thing that was almost as big as she is (if we don't count the part that hold the frets). But today, when it came within her purview, a smile creased her face and we had a grand time plucking strings. A couple of times, I could have sworn that she would play a string and then lean forward so that her ear was aligned with the hole in the body (it must be painfully apparent I am not a musician, or a guitar player), and a look of serious concentration crossed her face.
Later in the day, Galina popped in the door to my office with Hunter and they waved to me, with Huntur doing a well-defined, full-arm wave that just makes me happy to be alive.
I plan to do some more guitar-"playing" tomorrow, with whatever else comes to mind. Meanwhile... it's time to go to sleep.
Cheers...
It's always a good idea to have something to fall back on. In Feht's case, it's stamps. Philately. Mostly France and Germany before 1945, though his real love, I think, is the pre-1920 period. He's the kind of guy who can take a handful of what look like identical stamps and tell you how they're different, and has the catalogs to help identify the extraordinary from the commonplace. In any event, he's selling stamps on eBay, and doing middlin' well at it (though I'm told it's a lot of work, what with the scanning and all...).
Anyway, work continues to pour in. I put out about 3500 words today, and there's work waiting for me to continue tomorrow. Invoicing is going to have to become a priority Real Soon Now, as I have completed and sent five assignments.
When the whisking is over, some of the townsmen go to investigate a possible fire, only to find the road stops in the middle of nowhere, as if cut by a razor. Armed and proceeding on foot, they come to a farmhouse where a half dozen men in steel vests are torturing a farmer and raping his wife. Some time later, a Scots cavalry detachment comes across the site, for what I think is a major establishing scene:
Mackay's eyes were practially bulging. He pointed a finger at the placard and turned to Lennox. "What in the world...?"
Lennox shrugged. Then, slowly and warily, he gave the woods nearby a careful scrutiny. Whoever had written the warning on that placard was no one he was eager to encounter. Especially since he had no doubt what was buried beneath the soil. He would have known even if it hadn't been for the placard.
Seeing no signs of life or motion, he brought his eyes back to the placard and read the words again.
Simple words. Puzzling words. Deadly words.WE DON'T KNOW WHO THESE MURDERING RAPING BASTARDS ARE THAT WE PUT HERE. DON'T MUCH CARE EITHER. IF THERE ARE ANY MORE OF YOU OUT THERE, BE WARNED. THIS AREA IS NOW UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE UMWA. IF YOU TRY TO ROB OR KILL ANYBODY WE WILL KILL YOU. THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER WARNING. WE WILL NOT NEGOTIATE.
WE WILL NOT ARREST YOU.
YOU WILL SIMPLY BE DEAD.
GO AHEAD. TRY US.
Mackay ran fingers through his short beard. "And just exactly who is this -- the UMWA? His face was a study in confusion. "Sounds Polish. Is there a Polish baron somewhere in this area?"
Sure enough, the situation was allowed to deteriorate to the point where Drew has a root canal scheduled for next Tuesday. In the meantime, he says the meds the doc prescribed aren't helping much. Nothing to do but wait, I guess...
The first couple of times, she seemed a little intimidated by this thing that was almost as big as she is (if we don't count the part that hold the frets). But today, when it came within her purview, a smile creased her face and we had a grand time plucking strings. A couple of times, I could have sworn that she would play a string and then lean forward so that her ear was aligned with the hole in the body (it must be painfully apparent I am not a musician, or a guitar player), and a look of serious concentration crossed her face.
Later in the day, Galina popped in the door to my office with Hunter and they waved to me, with Huntur doing a well-defined, full-arm wave that just makes me happy to be alive.
I plan to do some more guitar-"playing" tomorrow, with whatever else comes to mind. Meanwhile... it's time to go to sleep.
Cheers...