She is handsome, she is pretty

Oh, let’s see.

Woke up this morning with a stiff neck, which was later in the day  joined by aching wrists, aching head — pretty much aching everything — and that was the theme of the day, despite swallowing my Daily Limit of aspirin.

Fortunately, there was very little of a keyboard nature to do at work, so I got to rest my wrists, anyway, and passed the afternoon reading the New Yorker that had arrived on Saturday.  Of particular note is the article about S.A. Andree’s arctic expedition in 1897, undertaken via hot air balloon, as well as the article about chef in Turkey who is devoting his life to ferreting out the old, each-slightly-different regional recipes for standard foods that are being displaced by the Turkish equivalents of Starbucks.  I’m in the middle of reading the article about George Steinmetz — tomorrow!

Or not, depending on workload.

Today, I had thrust upon me by the story-brain, which was apparently avoiding the Ghost Ship scene it was supposed to be thinking about — the name and history of a goddess attached to Cheobaug, the Land of Wave and Water.  Mind you, I wasn’t going to be writing a story about Cheobaug, but does the story-brain care what I want?

This has been reported elsewhere, but bears repeating — an Inventory Transfer Order has been — repeat has been — issued, and the pre-ordered Saltations have begun their journey Maine-ward.  Best estimate as to when they might arrive is “next week sometime.”  Please be assured that we’ll tell you when they land.

…that’s pretty much all I’ve got.

Hope everyone has a pleasant and relaxing evening.

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