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Anthony Deaver has been at 1 events

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Sarah Rios42,638*WHOVIANS* Mark your calendars... and your arms. http://imgur.com/lP0i5Xj (Original post: https://plus.google.com/u/0/101453162215777563254/posts/ED4yBRm41su) *Edit:* Facebook event - https://www.facebook.com/events/150522868436180THE SILENCE2013-04-23 08:00:001292  

Shared Circles including Anthony Deaver

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The Google+ Collections of Anthony Deaver

Activity

Average numbers for the latest posts (max. 50 posts, posted within the last 4 weeks)

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30
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Top posts in the last 50 posts

Most comments: 15

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2015-10-14 17:57:38 (15 comments; 0 reshares; 20 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutation

So. Yea.  

For those that aren't aware, I suffer from Depression and AD(H)D. Among other things.  For years I didn't really deny it so much as I believed I could do it on my own. That I just needed to learn to focus and apply myself and I could be who I wanted.

For many, many years. 

But I was wrong. I couldn't do it. And for many more years I took that as a failure and refused to seek help because it meant I had failed even more. That I wasn't strong enough or smart enough to figure it out.

I was wrong about that too.

Today was the first step toward making it right. First step toward taking control or my own life.

Most reshares: 9

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2015-11-13 13:47:12 (11 comments; 9 reshares; 30 +1s)Open 

Cotton doilys dipped in clay slip & kiln fired.
The cotton burns away, leaving these delicate ceramics to display.

stolen from Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/bohobazaaar/photos/a.1510359272608249.1073741829.1510131442631032/1514791138831729/?type=3&fref=nf

Most plusones: 30

posted image

2015-11-13 13:47:12 (11 comments; 9 reshares; 30 +1s)Open 

Cotton doilys dipped in clay slip & kiln fired.
The cotton burns away, leaving these delicate ceramics to display.

stolen from Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/bohobazaaar/photos/a.1510359272608249.1073741829.1510131442631032/1514791138831729/?type=3&fref=nf

Latest 50 posts

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2016-02-05 23:33:28 (6 comments; 0 reshares; 13 +1s)Open 

___

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2016-02-05 20:17:51 (7 comments; 1 reshares; 4 +1s)Open 

Distinct possibility there will be no peaches this year.

Distinct possibility there will be no peaches this year.___

2016-01-09 23:06:05 (1 comments; 0 reshares; 28 +1s)Open 

Just spent what (to me) is a lot of money buying new pants because my current ones are TOO BIG NOW!!

Heheheheheheheeh

Just spent what (to me) is a lot of money buying new pants because my current ones are TOO BIG NOW!!

Heheheheheheheeh___

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2016-01-08 13:06:56 (2 comments; 1 reshares; 8 +1s)Open 

#thingsineverknew  
TIL

No matter what 'nut' you choose, if you look at the nutritional value of 100 grams they all have around the same number of calories.

Cashews    |  553
Pistachio    |  557
Peanuts      |  567
Almonds     |  575
Hazelnuts   |  628
Walnuts      |  654

Chestnuts have the lowest at 213 (but I don't consider them a nut that one would typically use to make a 'butter' from) and Macadamia has the highest at 718 (same as Chestnut) but it's fascinating to me that there is about 100 calories* between the lowest and the highest on that list.

Which explains why the packages I see in the stores all have a serving size of 2 TBSP and around 190 calories per serving*

I said about damn it :P
** Some have a higher calorie count but most multi-serving containers (i.e.not the single-serv... more »

#thingsineverknew  
TIL

No matter what 'nut' you choose, if you look at the nutritional value of 100 grams they all have around the same number of calories.

Cashews    |  553
Pistachio    |  557
Peanuts      |  567
Almonds     |  575
Hazelnuts   |  628
Walnuts      |  654

Chestnuts have the lowest at 213 (but I don't consider them a nut that one would typically use to make a 'butter' from) and Macadamia has the highest at 718 (same as Chestnut) but it's fascinating to me that there is about 100 calories* between the lowest and the highest on that list.

Which explains why the packages I see in the stores all have a serving size of 2 TBSP and around 190 calories per serving*

I said about damn it :P
** Some have a higher calorie count but most multi-serving containers (i.e. not the single-server JIF and Skippy things) are around 190.___

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2015-12-24 20:49:47 (8 comments; 0 reshares; 15 +1s)Open 

First time with acrylics wraps. Hopefully these won't cause my nails to peel.

First time with acrylics wraps. Hopefully these won't cause my nails to peel.___

2015-12-18 19:27:43 (11 comments; 0 reshares; 2 +1s)Open 

You'll never guess where we are again today :(

You'll never guess where we are again today :(___

2015-12-16 13:19:02 (5 comments; 0 reshares; 6 +1s)Open 

So we bought Beck a Fitbit to monitor her heart rate so we can see when she goes into A-Fib and track it. And it works great on the device (had a tiny episode last night) but whats the one thing the app is having issues with?  

Yep, tracking HR.  Damn it +Fitbit 

So we bought Beck a Fitbit to monitor her heart rate so we can see when she goes into A-Fib and track it. And it works great on the device (had a tiny episode last night) but whats the one thing the app is having issues with?  

Yep, tracking HR.  Damn it +Fitbit ___

2015-12-14 13:40:34 (3 comments; 0 reshares; 14 +1s)Open 

This is the update you've been looking for

Beck is home. Technically she came home Saturday night but I didn't update because we both were exhausted. And I decided to spend yesterday with her (and getting things set up to get her eating better... hehehe) rather than get onto social media.

Short version: still don't know what cause the AFib (no surprise there) and still aren't 100% sure if the meds stopped it Friday or if it just ran it's course (it's sporadic).

So. New meds (to control the heart rate and stuff) and new protocols. We purchased a BP device to check her blood pressure and heart rate a couple times a day. BP is higher than I'd like but the heart rate is normal so far.

Next up: doctors appointments. Several of them.  

So there you have it. no real change except she's home rather than at... more »

This is the update you've been looking for

Beck is home. Technically she came home Saturday night but I didn't update because we both were exhausted. And I decided to spend yesterday with her (and getting things set up to get her eating better... hehehe) rather than get onto social media.

Short version: still don't know what cause the AFib (no surprise there) and still aren't 100% sure if the meds stopped it Friday or if it just ran it's course (it's sporadic).

So. New meds (to control the heart rate and stuff) and new protocols. We purchased a BP device to check her blood pressure and heart rate a couple times a day. BP is higher than I'd like but the heart rate is normal so far.

Next up: doctors appointments. Several of them.  

So there you have it. no real change except she's home rather than at the hospital.___

2015-12-12 17:00:11 (2 comments; 0 reshares; 9 +1s)Open 

Update on Becky​ (the what day is it Edition)

So as up last night her heart rate dropped back to normal and the A-Fib had stopped.

As exciting is this news might seems, it is apparently normal for A-Fib to come and go. Which means that right now they aren't 100% sure if it stopped because it stopped or because the meds are working.

So she is still there under observation. The good news is however that most of the experimentation with medication and testing can be done via outpatient so she hopefully will get to come home today. At worse tomorrow.

I hope.

Update on Becky​ (the what day is it Edition)

So as up last night her heart rate dropped back to normal and the A-Fib had stopped.

As exciting is this news might seems, it is apparently normal for A-Fib to come and go. Which means that right now they aren't 100% sure if it stopped because it stopped or because the meds are working.

So she is still there under observation. The good news is however that most of the experimentation with medication and testing can be done via outpatient so she hopefully will get to come home today. At worse tomorrow.

I hope.___

2015-12-11 17:54:26 (8 comments; 0 reshares; 3 +1s)Open 

update #2

They are saying she has A-Fib. And while that in and of itself supposedly isn't life threatening it does increase her risk of stroke (as does her birth defect, high BP, and being a 'her').

The reason is that apparently instead of the two chambers of her heart (atrium and ventricle ) operating in concert the atria are fluttering and that can cause the blood to pool and potentially clot.

So bad.

Right nows she's napping and her heart rate is hovering around 140bpm, almost twice normal. So it's possible the meds they are trying now aren't working.

Which means more tests and experimentation and, if they can't get it under control, a procedure.

So she isn't going home tonight. Tomorrow is still and unknown. 

update #2

They are saying she has A-Fib. And while that in and of itself supposedly isn't life threatening it does increase her risk of stroke (as does her birth defect, high BP, and being a 'her').

The reason is that apparently instead of the two chambers of her heart (atrium and ventricle ) operating in concert the atria are fluttering and that can cause the blood to pool and potentially clot.

So bad.

Right nows she's napping and her heart rate is hovering around 140bpm, almost twice normal. So it's possible the meds they are trying now aren't working.

Which means more tests and experimentation and, if they can't get it under control, a procedure.

So she isn't going home tonight. Tomorrow is still and unknown. ___

2015-12-11 14:11:52 (1 comments; 0 reshares; 12 +1s)Open 

Also, while I'm thinking of it, and before I forget again (I really need this year to be over. Not that the turning of a calendar page actually affects anything, but I'll take what I can get), I want to thank those the have sent me +Secret Santa​ gives.

They have all truly brightened my days and made things just that much more bearable.

Also, while I'm thinking of it, and before I forget again (I really need this year to be over. Not that the turning of a calendar page actually affects anything, but I'll take what I can get), I want to thank those the have sent me +Secret Santa​ gives.

They have all truly brightened my days and made things just that much more bearable.___

2015-12-11 13:44:02 (12 comments; 0 reshares; 6 +1s)Open 

Update

Beck was admitted overnight. They effectively ruled out heart attack (no cardiac enzymes) but couldn't completely rule out something with the heart.

Also a possibility of a bacterial infection deep in her lungs/chest/heart.

I didn't get home until after 12 wand went straight to bed (had to up at 6) so didn't update last night.

More tests today including a chemical stress test and who knows what else.

Update

Beck was admitted overnight. They effectively ruled out heart attack (no cardiac enzymes) but couldn't completely rule out something with the heart.

Also a possibility of a bacterial infection deep in her lungs/chest/heart.

I didn't get home until after 12 wand went straight to bed (had to up at 6) so didn't update last night.

More tests today including a chemical stress test and who knows what else.___

2015-12-10 22:49:43 (8 comments; 0 reshares; 1 +1s)Open 

So Beck is in the ER again with chest pains :(

So Beck is in the ER again with chest pains :(___

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2015-11-30 16:15:46 (1 comments; 0 reshares; 5 +1s)Open 

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Nine

There is a singularly unique aspect to Nebulous that is not found anywhere else in the Known or Unknown universe. To be clear it isn’t, by any standard definition, really a planet. It has no core. It has no mantle or crust. It has no crazy magma layer whose entire objective is to push the continents around endlessly like children’s toys left out of the box as it made its way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

It has no oceans. Its only land masses are giant floating continents on a mass of thick, swirling clouds. No one, not even the Exceptions that created it, know why it is the way it is.

None of those things however are especially unique to Nebulous. There are other planets known to be hollow, and planets with no sky. Planets that exist like the skin of a bubble. There are even rumors of a planetcar... more »

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Nine

There is a singularly unique aspect to Nebulous that is not found anywhere else in the Known or Unknown universe. To be clear it isn’t, by any standard definition, really a planet. It has no core. It has no mantle or crust. It has no crazy magma layer whose entire objective is to push the continents around endlessly like children’s toys left out of the box as it made its way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

It has no oceans. Its only land masses are giant floating continents on a mass of thick, swirling clouds. No one, not even the Exceptions that created it, know why it is the way it is.

None of those things however are especially unique to Nebulous. There are other planets known to be hollow, and planets with no sky. Planets that exist like the skin of a bubble. There are even rumors of a planet carried around on the back of a turtle. What makes Nebulous special is that because it isn’t a proper planet, it doesn’t have to respect the law of gravity very well.

On the top of the continents, gravity behaves; it pulls everything down, toward the center, as one would expect. On the underside of each continent, however, things are a little different, and gravity operates in reverse. There, the same gravity the pull, instead pushes, acting as if each continent possessed its own center of gravity inside its own mass, rather than at the center of the planet.

The phenomenon isn’t limited to the continents. This gravity inversion or demarcation extends around the entire planet . . . nebula . . . thing.

This phenomenon has allowed the peoples of Nebulous to create thriving communities on both the top and bottom of the so called continents.

As such, just about every Cloud Ship on Nebulous, especially those that trade on with the Under, eventually has to pass through the Edge, that boundary between the upper and lower parts of the continent. Normally there is nothing to be concerned about other than a slight jarring as the ship adjusts to the change in gravity.

All this information flashed through Harley’s mind when he heard the Professor suggest the Krishna maneuver, something he had never attempted but, as he thought about it, would be a perfect way to stress-test a new ship. He made a mental note to bring it up to the Captain during the next staff meeting.

He leapt (literally) into action the moment he felt the ship begin to accelerate, flipping switches and twisting dials as he danced around the room.

He had been the engineer for the Captain for several years and had worked on multiple ships and engines in variousengine rooms during that time. Each new ship saw him spending days and sometimes weeks down in the engine room exploring and getting to know each and every nut, bolt, and wire.

This, in addition to making modifications to the space to account for his small stature. He installed shelves and platforms in various places to help him reach the controls that couldn’t be relocated. Some he did himself, others were done by a fellow mechanic named Mel.

As he leapt around the room preparing for the maneuver Phineas was about to perform, he kept glancing at the monitor that had recently dinged. Its task had been to gather information from around the net and assemble a composite of recent events; it had just finished rendering the attack launched by the giant new ship against the one that attacked their own from behind.

The events surrounding that attack had bothered Harley from the very beginning. He had yet to be able to put his paw on anything specific, which was why he hadn’t said anything to the captain, and the render didn’t shout an answer, but it definitely didn’t help ease his mind.

Something about it was off, and it worried him.

______________________________________

Morigan sat buckled into the chair that had been folded into the wall. He wasn’t happy. Not even a little bit. This was supposed to have been a normal, quiet little trip. He had been conned into visiting his mother-in-law. Well, not conned exactly; more like threatened.

When the captain made the announcement he ignored it, thinking it was just a thinly veiled excuse for bad piloting. After all, if they were any good they wouldn’t be piloting a wreck like this.

That changed the moment he was smacked in the face by his mattress. He had glanced up just as it flew across the room. He uttered some unintelligible sound and threw his arms up in worthless defense. It didn’t hit hard but it was enough to move him and the chair he had been sitting in to the other side of the room. In fact, the impact with the wall made him wish the mattress were on the other side. In that moment (rather in the one after that one where he had recovered. Mostly.) he decided that it might be seriously bad piloting, and had ran next door to check on Trilofax.

Quickly he returned to his own cabin, replaced the mattress, secured it and the rest of his things, he strapped himself in.

He made more noises and his eyes grew wide as the ship shifted again and his bed sheets, the one thing he had forgotten to secure, came flying at him.

______________________________________

Phineas directed the ship into a perfectly vertical climb seconds after crossing over into the Cloud. He quickly leveled out and cut power to the engines. The ship slowly began to free-fall; Phineas fought with the controls in an effort to force the ship to roll over so it was fell belly up. Everyone held their breath as the ship continued to fall as it approached the invisible divider that was the Edge. The Professor grabbed his seat and stomach as the ship suddenly, and somewhat disconcertingly crossed the Edge and began to bob back and forth across the divide.
Phineas re-engaged the engines and turned the ship back towards the underside of the continent known as Vintri.

Static suddenly erupted over the intercom followed by Harleys voice, "I would like to remind you that we now have no sensors. You will only have what you see out of the front viewport to guide you."

"Duly noted," said Phineas, frowning. He grasped the controls in front of him and focused on the scene outside, planning his actions and course.

"Might I remind you Phin," the Captain began, "that this is my ship and I want to keep it in one piece."

Harley came over the intercom again. "Technically Captain, the bank still-"

Captain Remarkable smiled as he thumbed the intercom off.

He switched it back on, "...and they won’t be happy...", and switched it off.

He switched it on again, "...possibly repossse...". Off.

Phineas looked over to Faulkner, smiled, and shook his head.

The Captain flipped the comm on one final time only to hear silence. Smiling he asked, "Any idea where we are Harley?"

"We are somewhere near the Narrows but I don't know not exactly where. I’m working on it. The beacons on Underside are on a different frequency that those Topside and with the sensors down I’m having trouble find it."

"Understood, let me know when you get a signal. Faulkner, damage report."

"Uh captain, we might have other problems," interrupted Harley. "I had my systems collecting data up until the moment we crossed the Edge, and it looks like the Evolution-class ship followed us."

"Damn. Do we have any specs on the ship?"

"I have some sensor readings," replied Faulkner. "They are not heavily armored but they are going to be faster and more maneuverable than we are."

"I might have a solution for that Captain. I just located the signal for the Underside net; we are just outside the Narrow."

"Understood Harley. Faulkner, damage?"

"Reports still coming in Captain, but it looks minimal. Damage to the sensor array, obviously, and some shifting in the cargo bay, but nothing major."

"Have Waterson and Michaels re-secure the cargo and get the security team to make a quick check of the passenger levels. Phin, think you can get us in and out of the Narrows without sensors?"

"Possibly. Harley, how fast can you gather data from the net?"

"Nowhere near real-time. If you’re thinking of using that as a sensor for navigating the Narrows, forget it. Once we enter we will lose the connection anyway. You’ll be flying blind."

"Don’t tell me you are suddenly questioning my skills as a pilot, Harley."

"No, just reminding you. Also, something else to keep in mind; if they follow us in they will lose sensors as well-"

The Captain cut in, smiling despite the odds. "In that case the decision is easy. Phineas, take us in."

"Hide in the Narrows; roger that Captain," Phineas replied, and aimed the ship toward the crevice looming at them through the window.

#chronicle   #sundayserial  

As always, if you want to be notified when I post these let me know in the comments below.___

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2015-11-30 14:25:04 (3 comments; 0 reshares; 9 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

Two things, one a little self-motivated, the other a case of perspective that I encountered when reading one of my favorite books over the holiday.

The first, re: Chronicles. Does anyone read it? Does anyone care to read it? I'm asking not because I want praise of attention or anything like that, I genuinely want and am looking for feedback. It's true that the story is still mostly raw (In that I have gone through and done my re-write passes, but it hasn't been given to the/an editor), and I've been told by a couple people that parts of it were good (meaning that they commented on a single post and I am assuming they are referring to that post).  

I'm not going to stop posting it, but I will admit that I've forgotten to post it for a couple weeks. Still trying to get that part of things worked out. The meds... more »

Greetings and Salutations

Two things, one a little self-motivated, the other a case of perspective that I encountered when reading one of my favorite books over the holiday.

The first, re: Chronicles. Does anyone read it? Does anyone care to read it? I'm asking not because I want praise of attention or anything like that, I genuinely want and am looking for feedback. It's true that the story is still mostly raw (In that I have gone through and done my re-write passes, but it hasn't been given to the/an editor), and I've been told by a couple people that parts of it were good (meaning that they commented on a single post and I am assuming they are referring to that post).  

I'm not going to stop posting it, but I will admit that I've forgotten to post it for a couple weeks. Still trying to get that part of things worked out. The meds help but they are not a complete fix-all.  

So, the question is, does anyone enjoy it? What do you like and don't you like? I don't want to keep posting if everyone thinks its garbage. But at the same time, I have other ideas in my notebook and head (again, the meds help but only in the sense that there are fewer TV's and the volume is lower :) and just kind of want to know, in general, if I should work on those and side-line Chronicles or keep working on Chronicles and work on the others as I can.

I will post the next chapter today.

Second thing, perspective.  I started reading Asimov's Robot novels again over the holiday. It's funny but I know I've read them but don't remember the first book Caves of Steel being like it was.  Odd.

But that isn't the perspective part. It's funny in a way reading a book that is suppose to be set in the distant future (about 3000 years) written from the perspective of a gentleman in the 50's. By that I mean the language and familial interactions are very, very much from the 50's. When the main characters son 'curses' he uses words like "Gosh!". Then there is the tech. Much is based on advanced versions of the tech that existed when Asimov wrote the story, records are kept on computer tape, calling someone meant using the public communication unit (pay phone). Yet there are things like the positronic brain, underground transit systems, and non-lethal police  items.

It's fascinating to read it with the knowledge and tech we have now.___

2015-11-20 15:58:44 (7 comments; 0 reshares; 15 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

First off, I have a visit with the psychologist(?) Monday to review how i'm doing on the new meds. See if my dosage is right and probably discuss ongoing sessions. Personally I think my dosage is spot on as I'm far more productive and such. Even Beck thinks so.

As far as session go... I'm not overly thrilled with them. Mainly because I don't like talking, much less about myself. But if they help I will do them because I want to be the version of myself I know I can be.

I can't wait until I'm done with whatever ailment is lingering and I can see what I'm like without the limiting factor if the exhaustion.

Also, major thanks to +Bliss Morgan for the peach stuff she brought me. Still trying to figure out how to use them all and apologies for taking so long to say thank you.

On a side note,... more »

Greetings and Salutations

First off, I have a visit with the psychologist(?) Monday to review how i'm doing on the new meds. See if my dosage is right and probably discuss ongoing sessions. Personally I think my dosage is spot on as I'm far more productive and such. Even Beck thinks so.

As far as session go... I'm not overly thrilled with them. Mainly because I don't like talking, much less about myself. But if they help I will do them because I want to be the version of myself I know I can be.

I can't wait until I'm done with whatever ailment is lingering and I can see what I'm like without the limiting factor if the exhaustion.

Also, major thanks to +Bliss Morgan for the peach stuff she brought me. Still trying to figure out how to use them all and apologies for taking so long to say thank you.

On a side note, something that popped into my head this AM.

Four events in media (TV/Comics/Movies/etc..) that had a huge affect on me as a kid:

1. MacGyver. The idea that a '[super]hero' had no powers other than his brain was awesome to me as a kid. I was the guy in class that got all A's and B's (except in social subject like P.E.) and the idea that someone could be liked and be smart was world shattering to me. Plus, didn't like guns. Growing up in the south I was the odd one out because I hated firearms. So that was cool too.

2. Transformers the Movie (the 80's version). It was the first time I had ever heard a curse word (Damn it!) uttered in a cartoon. It still is a moment that affects me for some reason.

3. Watchman comics. I hated, hated the fact that the heroes always won and saved the day. Just once as I kid I wanted the hero to fail, to show a flaw and humanity. There has been a lot of 'almosts' but the hero always managed to stop the villains evil plan somehow. This was the first time in comics I had seen the villain basically win.

4. Batman: A Death in the Family. Robin died. Brutally. At the hands of Joker. And Batman wasn't able to save him. That was HUGE. And it was supposed to be a final final death (of course they brought him back much later), and at the time it was like whoa... Even as a young adult that was a major deviation. And the fact that we, the fans, got to vote? Icing on the cake.

What things affected you as a youngster?___

2015-11-17 14:14:29 (4 comments; 0 reshares; 10 +1s)Open 

Wake up to find out I am no longer contributing to something and am surprisingly okay with it.

Bullshit way of doing it, but whatever :)

Wake up to find out I am no longer contributing to something and am surprisingly okay with it.

Bullshit way of doing it, but whatever :)___

posted image

2015-11-13 13:47:12 (11 comments; 9 reshares; 30 +1s)Open 

Cotton doilys dipped in clay slip & kiln fired.
The cotton burns away, leaving these delicate ceramics to display.

stolen from Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/bohobazaaar/photos/a.1510359272608249.1073741829.1510131442631032/1514791138831729/?type=3&fref=nf

Cotton doilys dipped in clay slip & kiln fired.
The cotton burns away, leaving these delicate ceramics to display.

stolen from Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/bohobazaaar/photos/a.1510359272608249.1073741829.1510131442631032/1514791138831729/?type=3&fref=nf___

2015-11-11 14:37:14 (14 comments; 0 reshares; 19 +1s)Open 

Sometimes doing the right thing means admitting you failed.


or Adventures in ADD

Something I've learned (the hard way... is there any other?) is that failure is not a bad word.  It still sucks, and admitting it is still very, very hard.

Do I have a point? Yes. No. Yes.

The point is I've been fighting for years (READ: 30+) to find a balance point between all the shit in my head, but more specifically the AD(H)D and everything that goes with it. I've read every book from every specialist on the subject, tried (and failed) to use some of their tricks (look, writing notes is great. Assuming you a.) remember you wrote one and b.) can remember where the hell you put it.)

I've read all the "Git 'er done" books, the organization books, the meditation books, the structure books... and topics I can't remember (oh,... more »

Sometimes doing the right thing means admitting you failed.


or Adventures in ADD

Something I've learned (the hard way... is there any other?) is that failure is not a bad word.  It still sucks, and admitting it is still very, very hard.

Do I have a point? Yes. No. Yes.

The point is I've been fighting for years (READ: 30+) to find a balance point between all the shit in my head, but more specifically the AD(H)D and everything that goes with it. I've read every book from every specialist on the subject, tried (and failed) to use some of their tricks (look, writing notes is great. Assuming you a.) remember you wrote one and b.) can remember where the hell you put it.)

I've read all the "Git 'er done" books, the organization books, the meditation books, the structure books... and topics I can't remember (oh, that reminds me, the improve your memory books too). Some bits worked, others didn't. As is par for the course in life. Not everything works for everyone. Which is why I hate the 'This is how you do X books'. No, that is how you do it. It's different for me.

Anyway, back from the tangent. 

Some of you might remember I talked a couple weeks ago about going to my PCP to ask for help. She recommended a psych group that I needed to talk to in order to get any pills (i.e. Ritalin). I made the appointment and, after a reschedule that had to do with missing paperwork, I went. 

Confession time. I've seen psychologists and psychotherapists in the past. None of the experiences were good. So I was leary and slightly confrontation (I honestly expected to be told it was all my imagination).

The doc wasn't nice. He wasn't mean either. He was polite, inquisitive, patient, and honest. He didn't pull punches. He didn't coddle or placate. Which I am thankful for. He was very matter-of-fact and did a full evaluation even though I had my paperwork that said I had already been diagnosed.

He concurred. And gave me a prescription. Which I filled.

To give you a indication of why all this is amazing, any one of those actions I took I could have easily let slip. And in the past I have. The fact that I followed through on each one is a minor miracle.

And I'm glad I did. I think the meds are working. I'm in a ramp up phase right now, slowly increasing the dose to see what affect it has. I'm in the middle phase and I can tell a difference. Part of the problem is that for the first phase I was away at a conference running D&D games. So there wasn't a real way to tell if it was helping.

Except I could. I realized on the second day that I was putting together my stuff at night in preparation for the next day. Packing so that I didn't have to spend time in the morning to get ready.  Typically I'm very, very last minute. Running around like an idiot to find things and leaving stuff (as an example I left my dice in the hotel room on the second half of the first day)

So things are getting better. I feel clearer. I feel like I'm not being as distracted as much (there are still squirrels however). And I feel like I can focus on things.  

So I failed to do it myself. Even though I've developed a ton of tricks and mechanisms for getting through the day I wasn't able to silence the TV's in my head. There are still there but there are fewer and the volume is down.

That is a minor victory.

So here's the future victories. And to whatever lies ahead.  ___

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2015-11-10 20:06:05 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 4 +1s)Open 

Did you miss me? Yes, I know it's late. Later than late actually. Ended up spending hours in the Clinic getting my meds changed to try and get rid of this f-ing cough and get my voice back.

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Eight

Quinten didn’t so much clean the bar top as he helped in the relocation of various spots and stains. It was hard to call what he did polishing, yet the bar was smooth and slightly shiny from years of wiping and spot relocating.

He looked up and continued wiping absently as his gaze scanned the room, checking for almost-empty mugs and plates. He also was checking to make sure no one was pocketing any of his silverware. Including the staff. It had been in his family for several generations and although it was technically worthless, one never knew with the crowd that frequented the Wasted Drum. They had a tendency to pincht... more »

Did you miss me? Yes, I know it's late. Later than late actually. Ended up spending hours in the Clinic getting my meds changed to try and get rid of this f-ing cough and get my voice back.

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Eight

Quinten didn’t so much clean the bar top as he helped in the relocation of various spots and stains. It was hard to call what he did polishing, yet the bar was smooth and slightly shiny from years of wiping and spot relocating.

He looked up and continued wiping absently as his gaze scanned the room, checking for almost-empty mugs and plates. He also was checking to make sure no one was pocketing any of his silverware. Including the staff. It had been in his family for several generations and although it was technically worthless, one never knew with the crowd that frequented the Wasted Drum. They had a tendency to pinch things simply because they were there. And it wasn’t cheap to have new silverware made that looked like it belonged. Nothing worse than a shiny new fork or a spoon one could see their reflection in.*  All those nicks, scratches and pits cost extra coins, not to mention the de-shinification process.

A haze hung over the entire room as Quinten looked around. It has always been there and no one knew where it came from. His father once speculated that it was just something that spontaneously appeared in taverns like this or anywhere that groups of people gathered, laughed, played, and fought. Although the thought made no sense to him, Quinten couldn’t think of a better explanation for it. Regardless of its origin, it gave the room an ironic bit of cheery atmosphere. The haze itself was depressing, but for some reason people laughed and cheered upon seeing it as they entered the room, almost like it wasn’t a real place without the haze. Or maybe that was the half priced drinks and corn on a stick banners that hung on the walls.

Cheers and shouts came from one darkish corner of the room where a group had gathered to play Liars Dice, a game Quinten never played anymore primarily because he always lost. Always. His wife told him it was because he was too honest but he suspected it was because he was a bad liar.

In another corner, this one brightly lit, a group of would-be and has-been adventurers were pouring over maps and sketchings of a lost treasure that had recently been found. They used a lot of "olde"s and" thou"s and ordered round after round of ale. Fortunately Quentin kept a cask on hand for just such an occasion. It never ceased to amaze him just how many treasure hunter types managed to make their way into the city. Many years ago half the tables and chairs had been moved to create a small dance area when they had put in the juke box. After many experimental positions Quentin found the perfect place for it, where the patrons could hear it but it he couldn't.

Quinten went back to stain relocation. It was a point of pride, that bar top. It had been wiped by his father before him and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father before all that. It was a family tradition to wipe the bar down. Ever since some distant ancestor first opened the doors of the Wasted Drum for the first time, just inside the city limits of Caldor, one of his kin had wiped down that bar. And not just any kin no, it was sons and fathers. He smiled thinking about all the history and heritage, heart and hope that had gone into the wiping. All the stains and spills, all the scratches and scuffs in the surface of the wood told thousands of upon thousands of stories.

A frown crept across his face as he remember that his son, his only son, had chosen to pursue another career as a Wizard-at-Large. He couldn't look forward to teaching the technique his father had taught him, couldn’t look forward to sharing the stories and haze of the tavern with his son.

He smiled again as he glanced down the bar and saw his one of his two daughters slid her diaper-encased butt back and forth along the smooth wood. It occurred to him that he might yet be able to hand along the guarded technique of bar wiping. Then it suddenly occurred to him that she might not actually be cleaning the bar. He tossed the rag into the sink and quickly snatched the little girl off the bar. The smell caught him just as he passed the spot in which she sat on his way to the cradle stashed behind the bar. Holding her out at arms length he called over to his wife who simply put her hands on her hips.

The pleading look on Quinten’s face didn’t change her mind in the slightest; she merely pointed to the bathroom.

It was then that the door burst open and a gaggle of brightly colored and overly boisterous women, men, and things Quinten couldn’t immediately identify came tromping in. There was nothing even remotely somber about the group and in fact they made the already loud room seem quiet by comparison. Quinten wrenched up his face as he realized who was coming in and suddenly wanted nothing more in the world than to be in the bathroom drowning his daughter’s rather pungent butt in the sink. As he pushed through the toilet door he caught a glimpse of the former Sovereign Mayor of Frumunda entering the tavern. He disappeared as quickly as possible. Just in case he had been seen.

______________________________________

"Come Captain; why so glum my old friend?"

"Because we really need to get home, sir."

"Not this again Davids. Must we talk about this? Now?"

"Sir." Captain Davids came to full attention. "Not everyone here is so relieved to be away from their family and responsibilities."

The crowd that had entered with the Captain and Mayor fell silent. This was an argument they had heard several times over the last few days, but never had the Captain been so blunt before.

"You are very correct Captain Davids. But please, tell me how you would go about getting us home? From everything you’ve told me about this city, even if we walked outside the city limits at first light we would have absolutely no idea where on Vintri we are since no one can predict where it will appear each day. So if we prepare for the worse possible situation, where we come out on the far side of the continent, how can we carry enough supplies to make it home? Or better yet, how long will it take to even get home?"

"I. . . I don’t know sir" the Captain replied, slumping his shoulders. "I don’t have all the answers. I just feel like we are making no effort to return."

"Captain, I’ve met your wife. No offense, but we both know she makes Eloise look like a saint. Are you honestly telling me you would be willing to travel for an unknown number of days with finite supplies to get home to her?"

The Mayor smiled to the others and bid them to return to their jovalities as he pulled the Captain across the room to a table isolated enough that they wouldn’t be overheard by anything less than a professional eavesdropper.

"Look, I understand your position. You are Captain of the Imperial Guard of Frumunda, it is your charge to protect the realm and see that its people are safe. I truly do understand. And I know that people think of me as an absent-minded flub whose only redemming quality is that I’m fun at parties, but I don’t want us to just go willy-nilly into the wilds of Vintri with nothing but a hope and a prayer. We need intel."

Davids raised single eyebrow as the corners of his mouth twitched, which caused the Mayor to laugh out loud. "I’ve been around you too long, my friend. I’m starting to use your words.

"I’m going to be honest with you Davids; I don’t want to go back. Of course, you probably already know that. There is nothing for me there. Eloise doesn’t really like me, and the court. . . well, they merely tolerate me as mayor. I’m happy here. Here I can become someone else, someone new. Here I can be Henry Henderson, flambouyant extraordinaire!" the Mayor exclaimed with a flourish of his hands.

"You know at some point they will send someone to try and find us. We should make every effort to help them."

"Look Captain, I get it. Honestly. But I have to ask again, what can we do? Each night this city moves to another random location on the continent. I have absolutely no idea how we would facilitate helping ourselves, much less any would-be rescuers. If you have any thoughts about the matter, please share them."

The Captain slapped the table hard and stood up quickly, causing his chair to teeter slightly and almost fall over backwards as he began to pace. "I don’t understand, how can you be so calm and complacent about this? For that matter, how have the people of this city learned to live like this! Never knowing what tomorrow will bring, never knowing where they are going to be. We’ve only been here a few days and I’m starting to lose it."

The tavern again got quiet at the Captain’s outburst. Essie, Quentins wife, walked over with a look of stern determiniation. "Gentlemen, can you please keep it down. You are disturbing our guests."

"Our deepest apologies madam," said the Mayor. "Perhaps you can help us a moment. We only just arrived in town and were wondering, can you give any insight into how the people of Caldor survive the city’s constant moving? It would seem like you would run out of food and everyone would have left long ago."

Essie pulled a chair over from another table and took a seat near Henry. Captain Davids stood behind his chair with his hands on its back and leaned in slightly.

"Not in any technical sense, but I know there are massive farms withint the city limits that produce a good bit of our food. Many families also have gardens and several of the larger building have gardens on their roofs. We also have a large lake that we draw water from."

"Surely that can’t produce enough for the entire city to eat. What about meat or building materials?"

"First thing after the city re-appears we send out four scouting parties to try to determine where we are. Everyone in Vintri knows about Caldor and are more than willing to trade with us. We have some fantastic artists in the city and a Caldorian vase can sell for quite a few coins."

Captain Davids stood at upright again. "Sir, if we can send out a couple of our men on one of those scouting teams we might be able to escape the city."

"Yes, well, we can’t talk to the Mayor of Caldor tonight; his offices are closed. We will have to wait until tomorrow morning. First thing I will go see him about the possiblity."

"Excellent, and then perhaps we can find a way to get home!" Captain Davids hugged Essie, who laughed and went back to her tasks, only glancing back once at Henry, who was far less cheerful than he had been when his entourage first entered the tavern.

"Yes," he muttered as his finger traced little circles on the rough wood of the table. "Home."


* Not that many actually wanted to see their reflections mind you. But it was always a possibility Quentin had to be aware of.


#sundayserial  ___

2015-11-10 16:57:18 (8 comments; 0 reshares; 4 +1s)Open 

So, while at CarnageCon this weekend (technically after the con but anyway...) I had a thought. I think +Lisa Cohen should get a stand/booth/whatever at the big RPG cons (TotalCon, OCG, Carnage, etc) and sell Dragon Bellies.  

I'm willing to bet the players would eat that up!

So, while at CarnageCon this weekend (technically after the con but anyway...) I had a thought. I think +Lisa Cohen should get a stand/booth/whatever at the big RPG cons (TotalCon, OCG, Carnage, etc) and sell Dragon Bellies.  

I'm willing to bet the players would eat that up!___

2015-11-09 14:09:54 (1 comments; 0 reshares; 6 +1s)Open 

For the one person that noticed I didn't post Chronicles* yesterday, I'm away at a con, returning tonight. Will post it then. Be on the look out. :)










* yea, I need to stop the self-deprecating. I'm working on it. More on that coming soon.

For the one person that noticed I didn't post Chronicles* yesterday, I'm away at a con, returning tonight. Will post it then. Be on the look out. :)










* yea, I need to stop the self-deprecating. I'm working on it. More on that coming soon.___

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2015-11-03 14:32:42 (4 comments; 0 reshares; 13 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

Meh.

Pic is Sammy looking out the window for something to bark at.

That is all.

Greetings and Salutations

Meh.

Pic is Sammy looking out the window for something to bark at.

That is all.___

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2015-11-02 16:18:55 (9 comments; 0 reshares; 3 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

So, feeling better. Still have a dry throat so the irritation cough is there and my voice isn't.  Talking takes effort and it's gruff and quiet. I'm okay with it since I don't really like talking anyway, but it's driving Beck nuts.

Played D&D yesterday for the first time in 4 weeks. (1 week was scheduled off, rest was my being sick). Never really lost my voice and it did okay. As did I, however shortly after I hit the wall. Beck hit it earlier and had to leave the game :(

Which was too bad because the rest of the party basically upended everything and are on the verge of becoming ghost hunting pirates.  I'm pretty sure if there had been an airship  in or around the village they are stuck in it would have pushed them over the edge.

Once again I'm glad I don't plan out everything in detail formy... more »

Greetings and Salutations

So, feeling better. Still have a dry throat so the irritation cough is there and my voice isn't.  Talking takes effort and it's gruff and quiet. I'm okay with it since I don't really like talking anyway, but it's driving Beck nuts.

Played D&D yesterday for the first time in 4 weeks. (1 week was scheduled off, rest was my being sick). Never really lost my voice and it did okay. As did I, however shortly after I hit the wall. Beck hit it earlier and had to leave the game :(

Which was too bad because the rest of the party basically upended everything and are on the verge of becoming ghost hunting pirates.  I'm pretty sure if there had been an airship  in or around the village they are stuck in it would have pushed them over the edge.

Once again I'm glad I don't plan out everything in detail for my campaigns :)

Pic is Sam being my little bubba. He's da fluffy monkey.___

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2015-11-02 15:08:30 (2 comments; 2 reshares; 8 +1s)Open 

This is fun. I want all of them.  Of course Beck will never allow it because I would be playing them constantly.

Yes. I'm the guy in the stores that starts all the singing toys going at the same time.  No regrets! :)

This is fun. I want all of them.  Of course Beck will never allow it because I would be playing them constantly.

Yes. I'm the guy in the stores that starts all the singing toys going at the same time.  No regrets! :)___

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2015-11-02 13:31:53 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 3 +1s)Open 

Dawgerian Chronicles

Gah! Yesterday slipped away from me and I forgot to post the next chapter. Sorry! (wonder if anyone noticed)  Still haven't moved it to Wattpad or elsewhere so for now it stays here.

Chapter Seven

The Captain rotated his chair as Faulkner walked in. "Faulkner. Care to explain?" he asked, noticing the Professor beside him.

"I was giving him the tour when you called me up. I felt it would be safer for him to come with me than to leave him on his own to find his way back," commented Faulkner as he reached his console and began punching buttons.

"Fair enough." The Captain spun around, once again facing the ship’s viewing window in the far wall. "Get me a location on that ship. Professor, please take a seat and buckle in." The Captain twisted around just far enough to add overhi... more »

Dawgerian Chronicles

Gah! Yesterday slipped away from me and I forgot to post the next chapter. Sorry! (wonder if anyone noticed)  Still haven't moved it to Wattpad or elsewhere so for now it stays here.

Chapter Seven

The Captain rotated his chair as Faulkner walked in. "Faulkner. Care to explain?" he asked, noticing the Professor beside him.

"I was giving him the tour when you called me up. I felt it would be safer for him to come with me than to leave him on his own to find his way back," commented Faulkner as he reached his console and began punching buttons.

"Fair enough." The Captain spun around, once again facing the ship’s viewing window in the far wall. "Get me a location on that ship. Professor, please take a seat and buckle in." The Captain twisted around just far enough to add over his shoulder, "This may get a tad bumpy."

The Professor smiled to Phineas as he took a seat against the back wall and began fumbling with the buckle. After a few seconds of testing various configurations and connections, he managed to get it to click together properly and took the opportunity to look around the bridge.

It struck him just how small the command center really was in comparison to the rest of the ship, especially the cargo bay. The Captain’s chair sat on a small pedestal in the center of the room, the doors he and Faulkner had used to enter were set into the wall behind the Captain on the right. As Reynolds leaned forward and peered, he noticed an identical set of doors set into the far wall. In front of the Captain, set off from the center on the left, Phineas sat in front of a console covered in various lights, dials and switches. None of which made even the slightest sense to the Professor. Faulkner now occupied a similar position at his console on the right side of the room. In the small snips of glances he was able to see Faulkner’s console looked much the same as the one Phineas sat had, the exception being there were a couple of additional small screens.

The Professor looked over at the Captain’s chair and noticed that the arms were much wider than one would think necessary, even if there were a built-in cup holder of some kind. As he watched, the Captain absently flipped a few switches and twisted a couple of dials on the arms. The Professor assumed that there were many more, including a few buttons, toggles and some keys tossed in for good measure and that those were the reason for the extra width. He assumed there was, in fact, a cup holder, even though he saw no evidence of such. He also assumed he wouldn’t have a clue what any of the buttons, switches, toggles, dials and keys would be for unless they had a very clear labels, and possibly a manual. So long as they weren’t green.

"Phin, what’s our position?" asked the Captain without taking his eyes on the window.

"Heading east at 285 knots. We are... twenty-three kilometers from the Edge."

"Mr. Faulkner?"

"Almost. . . ." Faulkner slowly turned a dial on his console as he stared at the display. "Got ’em. Bearing fifteen degrees to port off the stern. It’s a Galaxy-class cruiser. Minimal shielding, heavily armed and extremely fast. It looks to have a Henderson Emergent Motor Industries Type 3 mount as well."

"So much for trying to outrun them," the Captain muttered, punching the button for the intercom. "Harley, I need more speed."

"I’m giving it all she’s got, Captain!" came the reply over the intercom.

Captain Remarkable smiled and shook his head. "Give more."

"I’m trying, Captain," came Harley's frustrated reply.

"Try harder."
"'Try harder' he says," Harley mumbled over the intercom. A moment of silence passed. "So if I bypass the main junction maybe I can..."

"Harley," the Captain interrupted, "I don’t need to know exactly what it is. Short of blowing up the ship and killing us all, you have my permission to do whatever you need to."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Woohoo!"

Everyone jumped as the shout echoed around the room. The Captain glanced over to Phineas and smiled. "I’m going to regret that."

"We all are, sir," replied Phineas, smiling back.

"Captain, they are coming around again," Faulkner announced to the room.

"Set out the aft cannons. Fire as they pass by."

Faulkner pressed a series of buttons and turned several dials. Then he did it all over again. He cocked one eyebrow and did it all again a third time.

"Mr. Faulkner," asked the Captain as the pirate ship passed by the bridge window, "is there a problem?"

"Weapons are not responding, Captain. I’m getting nothing on the board; looks like they aren’t getting any power."

Captain Remarkable thumbed the intercom on his console again. "Harley, the aft cannons are not powering up."

"Yep," came Harley's semi-high pitched reply, "I took them off-line."

The Captain looked up at Phineas, who simply smiled and shook his head. "I’m sorry, you did what?"

Soft rustling came as the only response over the intercom. The Captain looked around the room again, and noticed that everyone but the Professor had a smirk on their face. He smiled himself as he realized that his earlier statements to the head engineer had already come back to haunt him.

"Well," he said leaning back his chair, "that was quick."

"Yes, sir," giggled Phineas.

"Sorry about that, had to reconnect a power coupling."

The Captain again thumbed the mic, "Did you say you took the weapons offline?"

"You said do whatever I had to so long as I didn’t blow up the ship," said Harley indignantly over the intercom.

"We are under attack Harley. From pirates. And you felt taking the weapons offline was the best place to start?"

"They have the most power available. And, I would like to point out, we did not blow up!"

"Did it ever occur to you that disabling our weapons would give the other ship a better chance of blowing us up? Explosion by proxy, Harley!"

Phineas couldn’t completely stifle a laugh, which set off Faulkner. Soon both were snorting as they tried not to burst out laughing. Professor Reynolds quickly became infected and began to laugh at Phineas and Faulkner, which in turn set off the Captain.

"That isn’t fair," came Harley’s cry. "You didn’t give any rules when you gave me the order last time'"

"They firing again," exclaimed Faulkner, suddenly serious. He grabbed the console in front of him as Phineas did likewise. The ship shook slightly as the pirate ship’s cannons fired repeatedly. The effect was significantly less that the impacts earlier.

Harley's voice crackled over the intercom. "Oh, and I boosted the shields as well."

"You could have mentioned that earlier," Captain Remarkable retorted as he thumbed the mic once again.

"You didn’t ask."

Faulkner again broke in. "Captain, they are turning for another pass."

"Phin, change course to ram their ship; give them as small a target as possible. And I want to be perfectly clear about this: Do not actually ram the ship!"

"Yes, sir."

"How far are we from the Edge?"

"Ten clicks and closing."

"Can we make it?"

"Before they hit us again? No. But if Harley can get our speed up, I believe we can before they turn again sir, though it will be close."

"Harley, I need every bit of speed you can give me, now."

"Incoming", cried Faulkner. The ship shook.

"Harley..."

"I’m going as fast as I can, Captain. It’s not like I can just push a button and pull a lever, you know!"

"Harley, I’ve seen the engine room, it’s nothing but buttons and levers."

"Yes. Fine. But it’s not like I’m just running around randomly flipping levers and pushing buttons hoping that something will work. There is a process, a procedure, a program to this. I know what every single button and lever in here does!

"Oh, except that one. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that one before. Wonder what it does..."

"Harley, just get that speed up!"

A moment passed then the ship lurched forward. "There you go!"

Phineas laughed out loud as he engaged the engines and navigated the ship away from the pirates. "You forgot which one, didn’t you?"

"No."

"Yes you did."

"You just drive the ship, pilot boy."

"Captain, the pirate ship has stopped. They are five degrees off the starboard bow," said Faulkner.

"What are they doing?"

"Nothing. Just sitting there."

"Full stop Phineas. I don’t like this. And they are really starting to irritate me."

"Captain," said the Professor, "If I may?"

"Quickly, Professor."

"I couldn’t help but notice we are near Pierot."

"Yes, our original flight path will take us just west of Pierot, about three clicks inland. Why?"

"Well, if I recall correctly, the Edge near Pierot is thinner than anywhere else on Vintri."

"They are hailing us Captain." said Faulkner.

"Are they, now; I think they can wait for a moment, Mr. Faulkner. I don’t follow you, Professor."

"I am by no means a cloud farer, but given the circumstances, would a Krishna Maneuver not be a potential solution?"

Captain stared, taken slightly off guard. "Phin?"

Phin tapped a few keys and turned to the Captain. "It could be a bit hairy, but he is correct, Captain. It may be a way out of this mess."

"Professor." The Captain grinned at their rumpled savior. "I like the way you think."

The ship suddenly lurched again.

"What the hell? Faulkner?"

"No idea."

"Captain, the impact took out the aft sensors," said Harley over the intercom.

"It wasn’t the pirate ship, sir; they are still in front of us, just sitting there," Faulkner said.

"Harley, anything you can do?"

"No, sir. Whatever just hit us targeted the sensors directly. This is so going on my customer survey form," he added more to himself than anyone.

"We need those sensors."

"Hang on a sec, Cap. . . I’m hacking into the local area network. I can try to collate any reports about what people [are seeing and any reports the local police are receiving."

"How exactly will that help?"

"I’ve been working on this application for the Axian Ministry of Application Development. Really unfortunate name that. Will have to talk to them about maybe..."

"Harley..."

"Right, sorry. The application takes data in all forms, from images to police reports to social posting, and generates a . . . representation of all that information. It’s not complete, so the best I can do is a semi-detailed shadow. I can maybe overlay it on the radar screens to try and compensate for the lack of sensors."

Faulkner whistled quietly. "I’ll say it again; I’m glad he is on our side."

The Captain grinned. "I concur, Mr. Faulkner."

Several second passed, with nothing but the sounds of padded feet dancing around the room and the clickty-clack of a keyboard being worried like a bone to be heard over the intercom.

"Uh. . . Captain? You aren’t going to like this."

"What might that be, Harley?"

"There is another ship behind us. Another Galaxy-class cruiser, same modification as the other from what I can tell. Looks like reinforcements."

"Damn." The Captain grabbed the microphone mounted on his chair. "Can I have your attention please, this is the Captain. We are about to experience some turbulence as we try to evade and escape from pirates. All crew to their stations. All passengers, please return to your cabins as soon as possible and secure yourselves as quickly as possible. This will likely be a bit messy." He clipped the microphone back to the chair and reached into his seat, pulling out a harness that he looped around himself and fastened into place.

"We should still be able to make the Edge Captain," Phineas replied.

"I don’t think so," came Harley's voice over the intercom. "I’m also picking up what looks like an Evolution-class ship in front of us."

Faulkner rapidly punched buttons on his console, and what Harley was seeing suddenly appeared his own screen alongside the radar. "He’s right, Captain; there is something there. I don’t have it on visual or radar, but if I’m reading this correctly there is a mass behind those hills, and it’s definitely big. I’m also picking up increased energy readings; it looks like they are powering up their main batteries."

"Evasive maneuvers!"

Phineas shoved the throttle forward and to the right causing the ship to tip forward, which in turn evoked a sharp bark over the intercom from Harley. Phineas swerved back and forth, trying to give the new ship in the distance as difficult a target as possible. The ship slowly turned to face the Corsair, its front cannons rotating slightly faster than the rest of the ship, as they came to bear. The end glowed, just before releasing an intense beam of energy, narrowly missing the Corsair.

"Captain!"

"Yes, Harley?"

"Whatever that was, it just took out the ship behind us. The energy levels were off the scale!"

"I think that was luck, given it barely missed us," shouted Phineas.

"Phin, Krishna Maneuver. Make it happen."

Phineas glanced over to Faulkner, who just smiled. "Roger that"

Faulkner helped the Professor assemble his harness before securing himself at his station.

Phineas stood at his console carefully turning a dial then reached over and pressed a short succession of buttons. "Crossing the Edge in five. . . four. . .three. . ."

#sundayserial  ___

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2015-10-26 12:28:24 (6 comments; 0 reshares; 14 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

We watched Jurassic World last night. Not bad actually. Better than I thought it would be. Loved the nods to the original.  That said, am I the only one that feels cheated by the ending of the 'final fight'? I just felt.... robbed. 

In other news, I'm back in the office. Still not 100% over the cold and having been working from home the last week+. Seeing how long I can stand it before giving up and going back to bed.

Regarding Chronicles and the SundaySerial. Would those of you that read it, still read it if it was hosted elsewhere and linked to here? I ask because trying to find older episodes is a massive pain and I don't know that a collection is the right solution. I want to eventually put it on Wattpad but I need a cover and .... well.... we've seen my attempts at a cover for this. Anyway just food for thought.more »

Greetings and Salutations

We watched Jurassic World last night. Not bad actually. Better than I thought it would be. Loved the nods to the original.  That said, am I the only one that feels cheated by the ending of the 'final fight'? I just felt.... robbed. 

In other news, I'm back in the office. Still not 100% over the cold and having been working from home the last week+. Seeing how long I can stand it before giving up and going back to bed.

Regarding Chronicles and the SundaySerial. Would those of you that read it, still read it if it was hosted elsewhere and linked to here? I ask because trying to find older episodes is a massive pain and I don't know that a collection is the right solution. I want to eventually put it on Wattpad but I need a cover and .... well.... we've seen my attempts at a cover for this. Anyway just food for thought.

How goes your last week of October?___

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2015-10-25 17:00:43 (3 comments; 0 reshares; 10 +1s)Open 

Dawgerian Chronicles

(I don't know how many people actually read these (I know there are at least two) but I'm going to keep posting them until the story is told.  Which might be sometime in 2020 at the rate it's going ;)

Chapter Six: The Anshar

Professor Reynolds had stood outside his cabin for some time. It hadn’t been the most comfortable of places to wait, but had been better than sitting in the cabin worrying about the cup in the cupboard. It was silly, really, being allergic to a color. At least, that was what he told himself, right up until he spotted the green cup sitting in the cabin’s cupboard. At first he simply ignored it using the OOSOOM^1 Principle. Unfortunately, the Principle hadn’t taken the Professors concerns into account.

After several minutes of tugging at his sleeves and taking deep breaths whileattemp... more »

Dawgerian Chronicles

(I don't know how many people actually read these (I know there are at least two) but I'm going to keep posting them until the story is told.  Which might be sometime in 2020 at the rate it's going ;)

Chapter Six: The Anshar

Professor Reynolds had stood outside his cabin for some time. It hadn’t been the most comfortable of places to wait, but had been better than sitting in the cabin worrying about the cup in the cupboard. It was silly, really, being allergic to a color. At least, that was what he told himself, right up until he spotted the green cup sitting in the cabin’s cupboard. At first he simply ignored it using the OOSOOM^1 Principle. Unfortunately, the Principle hadn’t taken the Professors concerns into account.

After several minutes of tugging at his sleeves and taking deep breaths while attempting to force himself to relax he had caught the attention of another crew member and asked for directions to the mess hall. Thankfully it hadn’t been far, so the crew member took him there rather than attempting to describe the way.

Now he sat in the ship’s mess hall watching the mountain of food sitting in front of him slowly disappear.

"You always eat that much?"

"Mope," came the muffled reply from beyond the food mountain. "Vis is ma ight mack".

"Sorry, I don’t understand".

A few seconds passed before the Professor heard what sounded like a swallow followed by a cow having a heart attack; upon further reflection decided that it was actually a pretty good rendition of Hans Bovine’s Third Symphony in G flat.^2 Slowly, the mountain slid a little to the left, revealing the grinning Faulkner.

"Sorry Professor. I said ‘This is a light snack’. My duties usually force me to eat when I can, sometimes it’s not for a couple days, especially when we have passengers on-board. I promise to eat slower so I can answer any questions you have." Faulkner grabbed a fork-full of what the Professor assumed were beans, although they were slightly orange, and stuffed them into his mouth. "Okay Professor, what would you like to know?"

"How did you know I was here, is my first question?"

"Easy," Faulkner said swallowing his potatoes. "I ran into Murphy, the one that escorted you here. He told me where you were."

The Professor nodded. He had almost expected some kind of intricate tracking system like the one used in his university, which kept track using his ID badge. It was slightly unnerving that they knew how many times he went to the bathroom, and could most likely tell what he was doing there based on the time spent, however fascinating the technology was. So he was simultaneously thrilled and disappointed that the solution had been so trivial.

"Um. . . if you don’t mind my asking, why is the head of security giving me a tour?"

Faulkner smiled. "That is a very good question, Professor. I’m going to be completely honest with you; there are two reasons. First, I do know quite a bit about the ship, with Phin, Harley and the Captain likely being the only ones that know it better. Being in charge of the security of the ship, I know about more nooks and crannies than the rest of the crew. Well, except Harley."

Professor Reynolds stared at the smiling Faulkner for a few seconds, letting the silence between them set up shop and pitch its wares. "You said two reasons," he finally asked.

"Right, the second is to make sure that you aren’t trying to steal technology from the ship or get a detailed layout from the tour. And as such I’ll take you on a very circuitous route and won’t be showing you the sensitive areas."

"Oh, no. I’m just curious about it. I’ve never seen one like this before. I take it I won’t be allowed to make notes?"

Faulkner paused and folded his arms across his chest. "No."

Reynolds smiled and waved his hands in front of him. "I’m just kidding about the notes." Faulkner didn’t move. "Honestly," he added quickly.

The Professor quietly let out a sigh of relief as the Security Officer finally smiled and lowered his arms. "Very well, Professor. Follow me."

Faulkner took the Professors tray and placed them into a small alcove by the door as they left. The Professor glanced back just in time to see the trays being swept away by what looked like a giant tongue. He chose not to think about it any further.

"What kind of ship is this?"

"This, my dear professor, is a Cavalier-class Faxian Super-Cargo Cloud Ship." Faulkner spread his arms wide and spun around slowing smiling.

"Faxian?"

"Named after the guy that created them, I think."

"Where do they come from?" Reynolds asked, turning the corner.

"They are grown in Stredonia, harvested, and then set out to harden."

"So we are walking around inside a dead plant," the Professor asked, running his hands along the walls. They were slightly rough, but not so much they were cutting his hand, more like that of a tree with the bark removed. Just beneath the surface he could just make out small pulses of light traveling quickly back and forth around his hand.

"For all practical purposes, yes, the ship is no longer alive. It’s not going to get up and walk away or anything like that, at least. However, as you can see, it’s not exactly dead. The hull and interior fixtures are long dead, but there are organic components and things like valves and doors; come see this one here, which will become brittle and seize up unless they are kept lubricated and monitored."

The Professor examined the door Faulkner pointed out. It very much looked like a cross between a door and a valve, its hinge on the top and bottom rather than the sides, and perfectly balanced. He pushed lightly on the edge and it moved with little effort.

"There are two control elements. One is actually a giant organic brain that controls the autonomic functions of the ship. Nutrient flow and things of that sort. They tried to create a non-organic system to manage it but the natural organic brain worked far better. It controls the homeostatic functions such as lubrication to the organic parts, as well as what Harley calls the ‘nervous system’."

"What is that?"

"A jumble of wires and organic nerve cells that run throughout the ship; the things pulsing below your hand earlier. After implementation, the organic parts grow through the walls, bulkheads and doors. They relay information back to the wires which, in turn, carry the signal to the brain. Since this plant originally doesn’t have what you would call a brain but does have a nervous system, another living organism was bred specifically for the purpose of overseeing the regular functions of the ship, then implanted."

"Is it intelligent?" Reynolds asked as he ran his hand along the wall again, watching the pulsating lights follow in its path.

"That depends on who you ask and how they define ‘intelligent’. There are some that say it is no more so than the birdhouses they make out of dried squash, since it’s basically nothing more than a shell with stuff inside. There is another school of thought that thinks one day the ships will decide to stop doing what we ask."

"Where do you fall on that spectrum?"

Faulkner grinned. "Personally? I don’t know enough about the science to even know what to ask. However, I think that if I treat the ships and the brains with respect, when and if they do rise up they will remember that I was nice to them."

The Professor smiled at Faulkner as they passed through the door he had examined. "So are all the ships the same general shape?"

"No, each class is different and, of course, they can grow ships with requested features."

"Fascinating. Can you tell me how do they manage that?"

"A little bit. Like I said, I’m not well versed in the science of it, but I can give you the general idea; mostly things I’ve picked up from talking to Harley. From what I understand, they are able to tweak a few genetic markers which force the plant to grow in a few predefined shapes. The Anshar is a completely new configuration custom built to the Captain’s specifications.

"Once the bonding is complete, a horde of technicians descend and go around making small adjustments to the doors and compartments. They install the conduits and cables needed to power the ship, as well as sensors on the exterior where the organic nerves can’t reach. Finally, they install a Phototronic brain from the Axion Phototronic Factory.

"Did you say ‘Phototronic brain’?"

"That’s the other control mechanism I was telling you about. It’s an artificially created brain that interfaces with the organic systems as well as the mechanical. I can’t tell you any more than that because I simply don’t know. That is far beyond my knowledge of the ship. That is more Harley’s specialty. Not only did he help design the Phototronic brain, but developed the initial programming for them as well. We actually have the latest model, the AXR-99b2. We are the beta testers for this version. It’s slightly smarter than the others, mainly the ability to manage and handle more facilities, and Harley is constantly tweaking the programming to make it more and more efficient. The hope is that they can increase the efficiency on some of the larger crafts and possibly even be made adaptable to non-Faxian ships. Although that is still a bit of a ways off."

"Wow. Must be fascinating, not to mention a little scary, to be testing the first version of something like that."

"Well, this is technically the Mark II; there were a few issues with the Mark I." Faulkner stopped outside another door, glancing back toward the professor as he pushed the door open and walked through. "Specifically, they have a nasty tendency to implode."

"Ah, yes. I can see how that would deter people from wanting to fly around with them. Something I don’t understand... oh my."

The Professor slowed to a stop as he passed through the door and took in the cavernous view before him. He and Faulkner stood on a balcony overlooking the cargo bay. It was much more massive than he remembered from when he had boarded the ship. Standing several stories up, the Professor saw several miniature versions of crew members dashing around on the floor below. The walls were stacked, almost to their level, with large gray and black cases, as well as the odd wooden crate here and there, held in place by bars that ran from floor to ceiling. Staring he was able to just make out more bars that ran across the tops of the stacks from the wall out towards the center of the room where they joined with the floor-to-ceiling versions, securing the items below.

Above him ran two giant tracks, both of which had a large crane like device attached. The devices were tucked away for the trip, one at each end of the bay. Various colored stains spotted the floor below.

There was far more room than needed by the crates and cases.

"You were saying there was something you didn’t understand?"

"What? Oh, right." The Professor pulled himself away from the view and smiled at Faulkner. "They go to a lot of trouble to re-add a bunch of organic parts back into the ship, including a brain and nervous system. Why not just use the one the plant already had?"

"Something to do with the type of information carried. The organics they add back are genetically modified to carry more information than normal cells and, from what I understand of it, many, many times the amount and type of information the plant system can handle. Someone once explained it like this; imagine if the original cells could only tell if it was sunny or cloudy or raining, but not what the temperature was, or distinguish between various types of damage or injury. The new, genetically modified version can not only tell you all of that but also what direction and speed they are going. Even what color the sky is.

"Plus, they said, in order to use the original nervous system, they would have to find a secondary way to reinforce the structure. It wouldn’t hold up during combat or cargo transport."

"Ah yes, I never thought of that aspect. Makes sense when you put to like that."

As Faulkner and the Professor left the cargo bay, the ship shook violently, tossing them to the floor. Off in the distance the grating sound of a collision faded away.

"Professor, are you okay?"

The Professor nodded, and twisted himself into a sitting position. "Nothing broken. I may have a nasty bruise on my head tomorrow, however."

Faulkner lifted himself off the floor and stumbled over to the intercom on the far wall. "Bridge, this is Faulkner. What was that?"

"Off the top of my head I’d say that was the impact of a giant grappling hook glancing off the hull," came Phineas’ response.

"Where in heck did that come from?"

"It’s just a guess, but I’m thinking it was the pirate ship that just flew past us."

"Mr. Faulkner, please join us on the bridge immediately."

"On my way, Captain."

-------------------------------

^1 Out-Of-Site-Out-Of-Mind Principle. Hasn’t really caught on in the academic circles due to the fact that everyone keeps forgetting about it. That and— what were we talking about

^2 Cows are not only tone deaf they don’t have a wide range vocally. All their operas tend to be fairly monotone in nature. It’s amazing how much emotion can be conveyed in a single word. There was one exceptional cow, George, that had been born non-tone-deaf. He created some of the most moving and emotionally stimulating bovine operas ever heard. However, the fact only George could hear them created a bit of an issue, financially speaking.___

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2015-10-20 13:19:41 (6 comments; 0 reshares; 9 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

ARGH!  I'm done with pain. If my calculations are correct (and they usually are) in the last 365 days I have been sick or in major pain for about 200. Likely more.

I got a cold this time last year, the week before Halloween, stayed sick for the rest of the year (literally. I got over one cold only to get another immediately) and finally hurt my back on Jan 1., spending three days in the hospital unable to move.

That's just the physical pain. This doesn't take into account all the other stuff over the last year.

So yea. I'm done.

Pic is Sammy in his chair. Literally, we bought it for him. Spoiled bugger.

Greetings and Salutations

ARGH!  I'm done with pain. If my calculations are correct (and they usually are) in the last 365 days I have been sick or in major pain for about 200. Likely more.

I got a cold this time last year, the week before Halloween, stayed sick for the rest of the year (literally. I got over one cold only to get another immediately) and finally hurt my back on Jan 1., spending three days in the hospital unable to move.

That's just the physical pain. This doesn't take into account all the other stuff over the last year.

So yea. I'm done.

Pic is Sammy in his chair. Literally, we bought it for him. Spoiled bugger.___

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2015-10-19 21:25:26 (3 comments; 1 reshares; 13 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations 

Still fighting the cold. Coughing hurts my stomach, throat, and head. The trifecta!

Cough medicine sucks.  All of it. We can put a rover on Mars but can't make cough syrup taste like anything but vomit.

Have the appointment setup for the psych visit to maybe get back on meds for the ADHD.  Need to get papers from my old PCP but they are arseholes about stuff. I expect them to whine and delay. Not looking forward to talking to them.

Have a bedception picture of Sammy. 

Greetings and Salutations 

Still fighting the cold. Coughing hurts my stomach, throat, and head. The trifecta!

Cough medicine sucks.  All of it. We can put a rover on Mars but can't make cough syrup taste like anything but vomit.

Have the appointment setup for the psych visit to maybe get back on meds for the ADHD.  Need to get papers from my old PCP but they are arseholes about stuff. I expect them to whine and delay. Not looking forward to talking to them.

Have a bedception picture of Sammy. ___

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2015-10-18 23:46:32 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 3 +1s)Open 

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Five: Eater of Treats

Captain Remarkable smiled to himself as he entered the conference room and looked around the table taking in those that he had requested attend. As usual, Phineas and Harley sat on opposite sides of the table taunting each other. It was tiring trying to keep up with whatever sports team or celebrity scientist gossip Harley was going on about these days. And even when he knew who Harley was talking about, he didn’t understand what. 

So he didn’t bother trying. 

Faulkner, his head of security, sat staring at them with a combined look of resignation, frustration, and amusement. His face made for an interesting read as it cycled through the emotions. Faulkner was still a mystery in many ways. He rarely talked about his past and there were days when the captain couldn’t actually remember when hehad joi... more »

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Five: Eater of Treats

Captain Remarkable smiled to himself as he entered the conference room and looked around the table taking in those that he had requested attend. As usual, Phineas and Harley sat on opposite sides of the table taunting each other. It was tiring trying to keep up with whatever sports team or celebrity scientist gossip Harley was going on about these days. And even when he knew who Harley was talking about, he didn’t understand what. 

So he didn’t bother trying. 

Faulkner, his head of security, sat staring at them with a combined look of resignation, frustration, and amusement. His face made for an interesting read as it cycled through the emotions. Faulkner was still a mystery in many ways. He rarely talked about his past and there were days when the captain couldn’t actually remember when he had joined the crew of the Anshar. But he had proven himself up to the task of dealing with whatever chaos Harley and Phineas managed to cause. 

Seated, alone, near the head of the table surrounded by a myriad of books and papers sat Emerson, the ship’s accountant who, as usual was probably trying to figure out some way to ensure that the cargo turned passenger trip was a financial success. It still baffled him that he had let himself be talked into having an official On-board Accountant, but he certainly couldn’t argue with the results. Since Emerson had signed on, they had yet to lose money on a contract, and in fact had managed to get some of the more lucrative ones, although Remarkable suspected that had something to do with the fact that his accountant had ties to most of the head families in Ventri. Assuming you could call your sister’s husband’s friend a tie.

Emerson was the one person he knew wasn’t going to enjoy bit of news.

Standing a moment in silence and listening to the current topic of interest between his First Mate and Engineer, he caught the eye of Faulkner who only smiled and shook his head.

"That is so like you," Harley shouted, admonishing Phineas. "You never agree with— oh! Candy!"

The bag that had been tossed by the captain landed and tipped over like a drunkard who had managed, somehow, to find the floor, and spilled its contents of small, indelicately wrapped items across the tabletop. Harley and Phineas both leapt from their seats (well, Harley leapt, Phineas just leaned aggressively forward.) in an effort to grab as many as they could. 

Harley came away with more, all stuffed in his mouth, and trotted back to his seat with his head held high.

Phineas laughed. "Great, just what we need. Our head engineer on a sugar high."

Harley sat back in his seat and glared at Phineas, and managed to stick his tongue out through the cacophony of multi-color wrappers.

"Alright everyone, settle down," began the Captain, as Harley looked over to Faulkner and pointed to his mouth. Faulkner smiled and waved Harley off, politely declining the invitation to share in the slobber-covered treats. Harley simply grinned, flecks of wrapping showing through his not-quite-closed teeth.

"We have a lot to discuss and not much time. Phin, I’ve asked Richmond to start the pre-flight process to give us as much time as possible, but I don’t want to delay any longer than I have too."

"Okay, that’s not slightly ominous or anything," said Phineas.

"Sorry, that wasn’t my intent. Well, maybe it was a little. Phin and Harley already know that the Knights were on board a few minutes ago—" Faulkner perked up at this news, the Captain held up his hand to silence anything the security chief was going to ask "—and they have asked us to do them a favor. Well, I say ‘favor’ but its more like they offered us a contract"

The last bit caused Emerson to put down his pencil, pull his head from the book and raise his hand.

"Yes, Emerson, it is an actual contract. With money and everything."

Emerson put his hand down and immediately raised it again.

Faulkner raised his hand.

"Yes Mr. Faulkner?"

"Sorry Captain, but the idea of doing a favor for the Knight bothers me. Getting involved with them usually end up with one of us in a jail somewhere and Harley drunk on catnip."

"It was one time! For the love of… let. It. Go," muttered Harley through a mouth full of chocolate.

Everyone around the table giggled. Emerson tentatively raised his hand again.

"Patience Em, I’ll get to you. So here’s the short and sweet. Apparently a dignitary, a Mayor, from the underside city of Frumunda—" Harley giggled around a mouth full of candy "—has disappeared. He and his entourage were coming here to attend the Ceremony of Champions in Aerion and got… lost. And by lost I mean disappeared off the face of the continent. The Mayor, via the Knights, has offered us a contract to find and retrieve this lost soul. The contract is open ended, but I suspect they are going to want some kind of results soon. It appears that the government in Frumunda is threatening to go to war. They have managed to come to the conclusion that we kidnapped their Mayor."

"Any idea where he was last seen?" Faulkner asked.

"Yea. That answer comes with good news and bad news."

"Of course it does," Faulkner replied, smiling.

"Bad news," continued the Captain, "is that the Knights suspect he was in Caldor."

"Oh. That’s just fantastic," said Phineas.

"Why not just tell the Frumundians that he was in Caldor?" asked Emerson.

"You ever try explaining to someone that a city relocates itself every night and shows up in the morning in a different place? Might as well say he ran away to join a travelling circus, or was kidnapped by flying monkeys. It’s about as believable," replied Phineas.

Faulkner cut in, stopping Phineas’ attempted tirade. "So what’s the plan, Cap?"

"The good news part is that Caldor was last seen near Araxeia. It was a couple weeks ago, and I know that the chances of it being nearby when we arrive in Araxeia in five days are non-existent. But it’s a starting point. I figured if we make a stop at the Gods Islands and inquire at the GMAP library we might have a shot at finding him."

"Um. . . Captain."

"Yes, Harley?"

"About the Gods Islands—"

"Not now, Harley. You’re just going to have to find another way to get Junka his bones," replied the Captain as he struggled to suppress a grin.

"What?! Is there anyone on the ship that doesn’t know I’m smuggling stuff?"

"Not now there isn’t," chimed in Phineas, causing Harley to stop short and flop back down into his chair. "The last time anyone predicted where Caldor would appear was over two thousand years ago. It supposedly took him forty years to do so. And even then it was a guess. And wrong."

"Yes, I realize that. However, technology has changed in two thousand years. Besides, he didn’t have a genius Dawgerian to help him."

Phineas rolled his eyes. "Perfect, a sugar high and full of himself."

Harley sat up proudly and grinned.

"Stopping at the Library will cost us some time but I think if we push the ship a little we should only be delayed by a couple days. I get the feeling that neither of our passengers will mind the time."

Emerson again looked up from his books and raised his hand.

"Yes Em?"

"Just want to point out, Captain that the extra two days of travel will cost us around 340 kaymec in fuel "

"It will be covered."

"—An additional 220 kaymec in food."

"Covered."

"—420 kaymec in docking fees."

"Also covered."

"—and, according to my calculations, potentially another 1000 kaymec in bribes."

"Ah, yes. That will be classed as general expenses. Maritan won’t question too closely, especially if we find this lost puppy and bring him back before Frumunda declares war. We do that fast enough and I’m pretty sure I can squeeze a bonus out of them."

"I can’t even begin to calculate the cost of trying to locate Caldor and then the missing Mayor. Especially if we happen to stay overnight once we find it."

"I know; let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. Let’s find the city first, then worry about the rest of it. Anyone object to taking this contract? Aside from the fact the Knights are involved."

No one, not even Emerson raised their hands. Or paws.

"Okay, any further questions or comments? No? Good. Meeting adjourned. Let’s get this ship out of port and on our way to the Gods Islands."

Everyone stood up from their chairs and left the table. All, that is, except Harley. He floated. Faulkner hung back a moment to speak with the Captain.

"You know this isn’t going to end well. Harley got way too much candy."

"Yea, I figured he would. That’s why I got the sugar free stuff."

Faulkner gave a single deep barking laugh.

"I’ll make the announcement to the rest of the crew and the passengers. I’m getting too old for this," the Captain said, smiling.

#sundayserial   #chronicles  


(in case anyone actually reads these)___

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2015-10-15 16:24:22 (10 comments; 0 reshares; 7 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

So my day is going to contain a lot of the liquid shown in the image below.

Because I officially have a cold. And feel like hell. Actually, I feel like I would survive a zombie apocalypse based on the fact that the zombies would take a single look at me and keep on shambling.

This is on top of yesterday's stuff. And my pain levels are up.

I have negative spoons today and a lot to do.

Yay me.

Greetings and Salutations

So my day is going to contain a lot of the liquid shown in the image below.

Because I officially have a cold. And feel like hell. Actually, I feel like I would survive a zombie apocalypse based on the fact that the zombies would take a single look at me and keep on shambling.

This is on top of yesterday's stuff. And my pain levels are up.

I have negative spoons today and a lot to do.

Yay me.___

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2015-10-14 17:57:38 (15 comments; 0 reshares; 20 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutation

So. Yea.  

For those that aren't aware, I suffer from Depression and AD(H)D. Among other things.  For years I didn't really deny it so much as I believed I could do it on my own. That I just needed to learn to focus and apply myself and I could be who I wanted.

For many, many years. 

But I was wrong. I couldn't do it. And for many more years I took that as a failure and refused to seek help because it meant I had failed even more. That I wasn't strong enough or smart enough to figure it out.

I was wrong about that too.

Today was the first step toward making it right. First step toward taking control or my own life.

Greetings and Salutation

So. Yea.  

For those that aren't aware, I suffer from Depression and AD(H)D. Among other things.  For years I didn't really deny it so much as I believed I could do it on my own. That I just needed to learn to focus and apply myself and I could be who I wanted.

For many, many years. 

But I was wrong. I couldn't do it. And for many more years I took that as a failure and refused to seek help because it meant I had failed even more. That I wasn't strong enough or smart enough to figure it out.

I was wrong about that too.

Today was the first step toward making it right. First step toward taking control or my own life.___

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2015-10-09 17:58:49 (2 comments; 0 reshares; 10 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

Bah.  Annoyed. Kind of.  Project at work is finally in the last stages of the QA process so I can relax a bit.  So that's good.

Also, it's Friday. So there is that. And the image below is absolutely adorable. (It's Sammy (a.k.a. "Little Mister") who decided to jump in the clothes basket and hang out)

The annoyance? I order the new Transformers game from BestBuy Tuesday because none of the stores around us had a copy. (Really +Best Buy? Not a single store?!)

Was suppose to be here last night.  Won't arrive until next Tuesday.

So I'm irritated because I had planned to play it tonight and the weekend and review it for +MOARGeek ) That isn't gong to happen now. 

Between that and the fiasco with the TV replacement I think I'm done with BestBuy as a store. 

Greetings and Salutations

Bah.  Annoyed. Kind of.  Project at work is finally in the last stages of the QA process so I can relax a bit.  So that's good.

Also, it's Friday. So there is that. And the image below is absolutely adorable. (It's Sammy (a.k.a. "Little Mister") who decided to jump in the clothes basket and hang out)

The annoyance? I order the new Transformers game from BestBuy Tuesday because none of the stores around us had a copy. (Really +Best Buy? Not a single store?!)

Was suppose to be here last night.  Won't arrive until next Tuesday.

So I'm irritated because I had planned to play it tonight and the weekend and review it for +MOARGeek ) That isn't gong to happen now. 

Between that and the fiasco with the TV replacement I think I'm done with BestBuy as a store. ___

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2015-10-06 17:27:45 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 2 +1s)Open 

heh.  I'd watch Jaws 15

heh.  I'd watch Jaws 15___

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2015-10-06 16:59:44 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 3 +1s)Open 

AHHHHHH!!!!! It's here!  (well not here here but in the stores!!)

::fans self::

The original Megatron, Devastator, Defensor awesome graphics!

Holy carp!  I need a minute..

AHHHHHH!!!!! It's here!  (well not here here but in the stores!!)

::fans self::

The original Megatron, Devastator, Defensor awesome graphics!

Holy carp!  I need a minute..___

2015-10-06 15:13:02 (6 comments; 0 reshares; 10 +1s)Open 

Eating a salad with chopsticks is and... interesting experience.

Eating a salad with chopsticks is and... interesting experience.___

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2015-10-06 13:28:01 (15 comments; 0 reshares; 19 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

So, I'm going to talk about something I very rarely talk about: me.

Recently I had the final 'first' since my mom passed, the first anniversary. I didn't mention it or bring it up or hint at it because... well, to be honest I just wanted it to pass by with as little fanfare as possible. I wanted to pretend it didn't happen and just didn't want to think about it.

The last few weeks have been hard. I've tried not to let it affect anything but even I can see it in my eyes. I'm only mentioning it now in the hopes of being able to put it behind me. I know it's not going to go away, I don't mean that. I'm not that naive. I still think about and miss my dad and he passed over 30 years ago. So I get it.

But I need to move forward. I haven't done an Impossible Things in a while. I... more »

Greetings and Salutations

So, I'm going to talk about something I very rarely talk about: me.

Recently I had the final 'first' since my mom passed, the first anniversary. I didn't mention it or bring it up or hint at it because... well, to be honest I just wanted it to pass by with as little fanfare as possible. I wanted to pretend it didn't happen and just didn't want to think about it.

The last few weeks have been hard. I've tried not to let it affect anything but even I can see it in my eyes. I'm only mentioning it now in the hopes of being able to put it behind me. I know it's not going to go away, I don't mean that. I'm not that naive. I still think about and miss my dad and he passed over 30 years ago. So I get it.

But I need to move forward. I haven't done an Impossible Things in a while. I haven't written any poetry or haikus is months. I have been eeking by on editing Chronicles (The #sundayserials are already written so no work there).

The only creative outlet has been running the D&D games and even there I'm faltering.

Look, I suck about talking about me. Which is why I don't do it. I think I'm boring and dull, that no one likes me and that I have zero talent and skill. So I focus on things that are distractions like funny pictures of squirrels charging into battle on the backs of turtles, or stampeding earthworms or something. So forgive me this one, with all the other mental shit in my head this is all I have right now. I have to start somewhere.

And everyday is Day 1.___

2015-10-06 04:17:13 (7 comments; 0 reshares; 4 +1s)Open 

I've been staying up late again doing various things because I'm having trouble sleeping. Usually I read or play a game, tonight I started watching Luther on Netflix (awesome show!).

Problem is I get fidgety and jumpy. Not scared but my legs twitch and I have trouble sitting still (more than normal).

Tonight I think I figured out why. Usually when I sit up late the fuzzies would come and sit/harass me.

I miss my kitties :(

I've been staying up late again doing various things because I'm having trouble sleeping. Usually I read or play a game, tonight I started watching Luther on Netflix (awesome show!).

Problem is I get fidgety and jumpy. Not scared but my legs twitch and I have trouble sitting still (more than normal).

Tonight I think I figured out why. Usually when I sit up late the fuzzies would come and sit/harass me.

I miss my kitties :(___

2015-10-06 00:53:42 (12 comments; 0 reshares; 14 +1s)Open 

True Confessions

I like canned beets. So much so that I can open a new can and eat every beet inside straight from the can. It's true that every so often you get a batch that has a slight metallic taste but overall they are good.

But that isn't the weird part. (Or maybe it is, I don't know your stance on canned beets).

The weird part is I like to eat canned beets and cheddar cheese. White cheddar. Together. At the same time.


I'll just see myself out...

True Confessions

I like canned beets. So much so that I can open a new can and eat every beet inside straight from the can. It's true that every so often you get a batch that has a slight metallic taste but overall they are good.

But that isn't the weird part. (Or maybe it is, I don't know your stance on canned beets).

The weird part is I like to eat canned beets and cheddar cheese. White cheddar. Together. At the same time.


I'll just see myself out...___

2015-10-05 16:07:26 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 4 +1s)Open 

I love last minute requirements that get dropped on me. Especially ones that would have been clear from the beginning if specs had existed from day one.

I love last minute requirements that get dropped on me. Especially ones that would have been clear from the beginning if specs had existed from day one.___

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2015-10-05 14:17:34 (9 comments; 2 reshares; 9 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

The link below upsets me. Greatly. I can't do anything but sigh. I'm so tired of rebooted, retreaded material.

::sigh::

Also, dealing with annoying at work. No details but it elicits another sigh.

On the flip side, last nights session was borderline Amazeballs! It had everything from lava, to arguments about who was the shortest, to a drunk signing barbarian who just wanted to punch things.

The Coup de grâce of the night had to be the new halfling stuffing a time bomb in the decapitated head of a Quaggoth and tossing it into the middle of a group of Duergar.

Good times. :)

Edit: I feel I need to elaborate on the barbarian a bit. not because people are confused but because he was fun.  The party met him as they were trying to sneak back to a location. He stumbled out of a building, drunka... more »

Greetings and Salutations

The link below upsets me. Greatly. I can't do anything but sigh. I'm so tired of rebooted, retreaded material.

::sigh::

Also, dealing with annoying at work. No details but it elicits another sigh.

On the flip side, last nights session was borderline Amazeballs! It had everything from lava, to arguments about who was the shortest, to a drunk signing barbarian who just wanted to punch things.

The Coup de grâce of the night had to be the new halfling stuffing a time bomb in the decapitated head of a Quaggoth and tossing it into the middle of a group of Duergar.

Good times. :)

Edit: I feel I need to elaborate on the barbarian a bit. not because people are confused but because he was fun.  The party met him as they were trying to sneak back to a location. He stumbled out of a building, drunk and looking to fight. Not angry but liked punching things. One of the party, a dwarf (shock), offered to drink with him they point out things to punch. The barbarian agreed.

As they left the building the barbarian grabbed a mini cask and took it with him. I tell you that because during the fight with the Quaggoth the party would occasionally look over and see the barbarian, cask under one arm, long sword in the other, mowing down beasties and taking swings from the cask. laughing and singing the entire time^1

Afterward he stacked the bodies together to make a fuzzy throne while he watched the party finish off the two remaining Quaggoth.

How goes it on your end Googleopolis?



^1 "I'm a barbarian yes I am, I drink and smash because I can!"___

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2015-10-04 23:43:11 (0 comments; 0 reshares; 4 +1s)Open 

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Four: More visitors.

No one is really sure if the Knights of Orange are so named for the color of their armor, or if the armor is so colored because of the name. Either way, they are impossible to miss in a crowd since they practically glow. Just as they did now, casting an eerie  bit orangish light round the area of the cargo hold in which they stood. And effect that is wont to happen when so many are gathered and stand in the direct sunlight. 

And effect that is also most likely intentional.

To the untrained eye each member of the Knights looked nearly identical. To the trained eye however they were exactly identical. The helmets each member wore covered enough of their face to hide any identifying features and even had a visor that hide their eyes so that you never knew if they were looking at your with interest orb... more »

Dawgerian Chronicles

Chapter Four: More visitors.

No one is really sure if the Knights of Orange are so named for the color of their armor, or if the armor is so colored because of the name. Either way, they are impossible to miss in a crowd since they practically glow. Just as they did now, casting an eerie  bit orangish light round the area of the cargo hold in which they stood. And effect that is wont to happen when so many are gathered and stand in the direct sunlight. 

And effect that is also most likely intentional.

To the untrained eye each member of the Knights looked nearly identical. To the trained eye however they were exactly identical. The helmets each member wore covered enough of their face to hide any identifying features and even had a visor that hide their eyes so that you never knew if they were looking at your with interest or bored to tears.

In general the Knights are considered to be the de facto police force for the entirety of Ventri, one of the six continent states of Nebulous. Whether that is because they are sanctioned by the government or because they have (supposedly) eliminated all competition is up for discussion.

Just not with the Knights themselves.

Either way, it is consider vital that after any dealing with the Knights you check your wallet.

And your silverware.

And your sanity.

Captain Remarkable strode across the cargo area, followed closely by Harley in his hover pod. "Commander," he said extending his hand, "what can I do for the Knights of Orange today?"

The orange figure standing in front of the captain, the one with the big black strip of what was assumed to be fur running across the length of his helmet, saluted harshly and approached the captain, "Captain Remarkable pleasure to see you again. I’ll cut right to the chase; I have an official request from Mayor Theolson. It would appear a dignitary from the province of Frumunda was on his way here to attend the annual Ceremony of Champions when he was… let’s just say, side tracked? The mayor has asked if you would be willing to take on a search and rescue contract to aid in our search for him and his party. Your standard fee as well as expenses incurred as a result of the search, of course."

"Not that I’m not flattered, Commander, but why would the Mayor offer us a contract like this?" asked Captain Remarkable as he handed the inventory list back to Harley.

The Commander of the Knights of Orange removed his helmet and walked away from the group slightly. "May I speak with you in private a moment, Captain?"

"Of course," replied the Captain as he joined the Commander and together they walked around the cargo bay.

"I’m going to be completely honest with you, Broca, this has been a complete disaster. The Knights have had absolutely no luck in tracking down this guy. We’ve spent most of our time chasing rumors of sightings. One day he’s seen near Gulargos, the next we get a report of sightings on the other side of the continent near Pierot,"

"That’s three days travel, even by Cloud Ship."

"That’s exactly my point. It’s impossible that he could be showing up in all these places, but, as you know, we have to track down and follow every potential lead, especially in a case as sensitive as this one."

"And you have no leads as to what happened?"

"Oh, we have leads. We have plenty of leads. And they all point to one stunningly irritating conclusion."

"And that is?"

"You aren’t going to like it."

"Humor me."

"Caldor."

"You’re kidding. No wonder all the reports are so scattered."

"It’s been nine days since his caravan vanished and we don’t have so much as a hair to point us in the right direction. The sub-Mayor in Frumunda has stopped short of threatening to go to war, but he’s not far from it. Somehow he got it into his head we kidnapped their mayor."

"So why me, Maritan," asked the Captain as he stopped walking and leaned against a shipping container. "There are plenty other outfits in Ventri that would happily accept this, so why come to me?"

"I told the Mayor about some of your exploits, leaving out the less than legal parts, of course, and suggested that a privateer of your caliber might be able to search in ways we can’t."

"Privateer? Is that what you’re calling it now?" The Captain grinned.

"Call it whatever you want, Broca." The Commander grinned back. "Point is, we— no, I take that back, I, need help here. You have contacts and connections from here to the Gods Isles. It goes without saying you can get into places we can’t, and talk to people that won’t talk to us."

"And if I refuse?"

"Please. You and I both know you won’t refuse. You won’t pass up the chance to make the Knights look bad, plus there is a financial aspect to this. The Mayor hasn’t offered an official reward for fear of attracting some of the other groups you alluded to, but he is willing to pay you for your trouble. I assume standard charter rates plus all expenses will suffice?"

The Commander stood watching the Captain. Both tried to prevent a smile from erupting across their faces. Both failed. Now it was simply a contest to see who failed the least.

"So let me see if I have this straight," the Captain said as he began counting off fingers. "You have a missing ambassador. His people are threatening to go to war. All evidence indicates that he got trapped in a city to that moves every night. And we are the only company crazy enough to take this on. That about sum it up?"

"Gods forgive me but . . . yes."

Finally the Captain burst out laughing, "You win. And you’re right. No chance I’d pass up making you guys look bad. Tell me everything you know."

**

Phineas walked past the Cargo Bay doors just as Harley floated out on his hover pod. "What’s up, short round?"

Harley pressed a button on his hover pod and rose higher until he was at approximately the same height as Phineas.

Phineas didn’t turn to look at his friend but merely smiled and continued to stare through the open door. He caught a glimpse of several Knights of Orange as they exited out the main bay doors. He turned to Harley just in time to not see a small hooded figure make its way into the cargo bay and hide in the shadows.

"The Captain and the Command of the Knights of Orange went for a walk a while ago. They’ve been talking ever since."

"Any idea what he wants?" asked Phineas.

"He was telling the Captain that Mayor Theolson wanted our help with something they can’t seem to get a fix on."

"You were able to overhear that?"

"Only because I was eavesdropping. Then they walked to the other side of the bay and I wasn’t able to follow. What do you think it might be?"

"With the Knights involved? Who knows. It could be anything from crab on crab violence to another outbreak of those killer marigolds we had last year," replied Phineas as he walked into the cargo bay.

Harley paused a moment and then followed. "You think there is a chance they are here to arrest us?"

"Why, did you do something else illegal?"

"Well, there are those biscuits I have."

"I don’t think they really care about smuggling some Dawgrian biscuits."

"Why not? They are important, too!" exclaimed Harley, slightly offended that his criminal activity might not be considered all that criminal.

"Are we really going to go through this? Again?"

"Sorry, I’m just antsy. I don’t like not knowing. If those soldiers weren’t here I’d have been able to listen in a little more and figure out what’s going on."

"In the meantime, why don’t you head down to the engine room and start making preparations for lift off? The passengers are all on board and the provisions and cargo are stowed. I have a feeling that the captain is going to want to launch as soon as possible."

"Fine." Harley stormed off as best he could in his hover pod. Which had less than the desired effect considering it wasn’t that fast. Or that imposing. It resembled the bottom half of an egg more than anything else.

As Harley floated out the cargo bay door, the Captain and the Knights’ Commander shook hands and patted each other on the shoulder. The Commander then spoke to the assembled soldiers, who gathered their gear and shuffled their way out the hold’s large doors.

Once the last soldier was clear, Phineas walked over to the Captain as he closed the large bay doors. "What’s up, Cap?"

"Things just got a little more interesting."

"Care to define ‘interesting’?"

"Let’s head up to the bridge; I’ll fill everyone in shortly."



#sundayserial  ___

2015-10-04 14:46:32 (3 comments; 0 reshares; 10 +1s)Open 

Can I say how much I love it when new players, that have no idea of the backstory or world they are playing in, or the game they are joining make a character who fits so perfectly into the world.

It's a fantastic feeling and makes me think I did it right. 

Can I say how much I love it when new players, that have no idea of the backstory or world they are playing in, or the game they are joining make a character who fits so perfectly into the world.

It's a fantastic feeling and makes me think I did it right. ___

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2015-10-04 14:10:10 (5 comments; 0 reshares; 8 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

Today is game day, I need to finish some prep which means cleaning the Legos off the table.

It good g bad day today. Good for the above and the fact that Beck is feeling well enough to play and I thinks +Bliss Morgan​ will be joining the game.

Bad because I found out this AM that a friend has been harassed on social media to the point she is deleting all her accounts and walking away from writing. I will be losing a good friend and we all are losing a talented writer. I give a hwarty FU to those that felt it necessary to boost themselves by tearing down another.

Anyway, how goes things?

Greetings and Salutations

Today is game day, I need to finish some prep which means cleaning the Legos off the table.

It good g bad day today. Good for the above and the fact that Beck is feeling well enough to play and I thinks +Bliss Morgan​ will be joining the game.

Bad because I found out this AM that a friend has been harassed on social media to the point she is deleting all her accounts and walking away from writing. I will be losing a good friend and we all are losing a talented writer. I give a hwarty FU to those that felt it necessary to boost themselves by tearing down another.

Anyway, how goes things?___

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2015-10-03 15:09:34 (3 comments; 0 reshares; 8 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

Look, not a picture of me! Today is Chore Day as well as Rest Day. Might be Grocery Day, depends on how Chore Day goes.

Might also be Nap Day but I'm not betting on it. First thing this am was taking Zena (a.k.a. "The Great White Wonder") to the vet then clothes shopping. Now she's conked out in my lap from all the excitement. Actually I think she was hyper nervous and Beckers was the excited one.

She likes shopping for some reason.

What are your plans for today?

Greetings and Salutations

Look, not a picture of me! Today is Chore Day as well as Rest Day. Might be Grocery Day, depends on how Chore Day goes.

Might also be Nap Day but I'm not betting on it. First thing this am was taking Zena (a.k.a. "The Great White Wonder") to the vet then clothes shopping. Now she's conked out in my lap from all the excitement. Actually I think she was hyper nervous and Beckers was the excited one.

She likes shopping for some reason.

What are your plans for today?___

2015-10-02 22:00:04 (4 comments; 0 reshares; 10 +1s)Open 

I've gotten tired of listening to music on the commute, so I've started listening to podcasts... wait...

A lot of what I've been listening to has been d&d stuff and the like. But I ran out of them so I took a chance and started listening to Nightvale again.

Five episodes in and I'm hook.

You made cheer now. ;)

I've gotten tired of listening to music on the commute, so I've started listening to podcasts... wait...

A lot of what I've been listening to has been d&d stuff and the like. But I ran out of them so I took a chance and started listening to Nightvale again.

Five episodes in and I'm hook.

You made cheer now. ;)___

2015-10-02 18:45:28 (11 comments; 0 reshares; 16 +1s)Open 

If I had my way I'd buy 30 cans of paint, each a different color. I's start with the lowest clapboard on the house and paint a single color on that all the way around. The next on up, I'd pick a color at random and repeat the process.

I'd do it until I had painted the entire house, top to bottom (or bottom to top in this case) in horizontal stripes.

This is the reason I'm not allowed out in public alone people. ;)

If I had my way I'd buy 30 cans of paint, each a different color. I's start with the lowest clapboard on the house and paint a single color on that all the way around. The next on up, I'd pick a color at random and repeat the process.

I'd do it until I had painted the entire house, top to bottom (or bottom to top in this case) in horizontal stripes.

This is the reason I'm not allowed out in public alone people. ;)___

2015-10-02 17:18:14 (4 comments; 0 reshares; 11 +1s)Open 

Heh. Hehehe. Hehehehhhahahahahahaaaaaahahahahah!

Speaking of ideas... (different conversation)

So I went home for lunch with Beckers.  On the way back I was trying to figure out how to move forward on a couple of projects. One that has been sidelined for about a year now.

And it's one I really like and want to find a way to do but not sure how to do it. It involves skills I do not currently posses and as we all know working with other people hasn't proven to be worth the effort in my world.

But why thinking on that another project popped into my head. One that, in subject matter, is related to the first and with some work could be altered and merged with the first to create something cool.  

If, and that is a big word for only two letters, if I can make it work and get the script written (hint: audio drama) I think it will be cool. Even ifn... more »

Heh. Hehehe. Hehehehhhahahahahahaaaaaahahahahah!

Speaking of ideas... (different conversation)

So I went home for lunch with Beckers.  On the way back I was trying to figure out how to move forward on a couple of projects. One that has been sidelined for about a year now.

And it's one I really like and want to find a way to do but not sure how to do it. It involves skills I do not currently posses and as we all know working with other people hasn't proven to be worth the effort in my world.

But why thinking on that another project popped into my head. One that, in subject matter, is related to the first and with some work could be altered and merged with the first to create something cool.  

If, and that is a big word for only two letters, if I can make it work and get the script written (hint: audio drama) I think it will be cool. Even if nothing comes of it other than 1 or 2 people listening it will be fun to do.  And I think I can start working on it very soon. 

No hints (other than the one above) because a good bit of it relies on misdirection (okay, technically that was a hint but no more!) so I don't want to give anything away. 

Wish me luck :)___

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2015-10-02 13:25:43 (8 comments; 0 reshares; 12 +1s)Open 

Greetings and Salutations

FRIDAY! And not only that, but Friday after I made a massive breakthrough on the project at work. AND, it's D&D Friday. So yay for all that, boo for not being home with Beckers.

Cold outside, hence the hat. Also, trying to cheer myself up, hence the silly photo. No idea why but my mood went from pleasant to dark and grumpy last night in a matter of minutes. And no, nothing 'caused' it. Nothing happened. One minute I was eating dinner and talking to Beck the next I was pissed. and the only thing I did was put the dishes away.

So here I am trying to pull out of it so I can enjoy tonight and not be grumpy at the table.

So how would you cheer me up my little googleupaguses*?


*googleupagusi?

Greetings and Salutations

FRIDAY! And not only that, but Friday after I made a massive breakthrough on the project at work. AND, it's D&D Friday. So yay for all that, boo for not being home with Beckers.

Cold outside, hence the hat. Also, trying to cheer myself up, hence the silly photo. No idea why but my mood went from pleasant to dark and grumpy last night in a matter of minutes. And no, nothing 'caused' it. Nothing happened. One minute I was eating dinner and talking to Beck the next I was pissed. and the only thing I did was put the dishes away.

So here I am trying to pull out of it so I can enjoy tonight and not be grumpy at the table.

So how would you cheer me up my little googleupaguses*?


*googleupagusi?___

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