Yawn...Happy Thursday, Stroock's Books readers.
Yesterday we were finally able to relax a little. But we admit a sense of melancholy falling upon us.
Mrs. S and the girls are off to Indiana today to visit family, leaving us alone for ten days to worry and stew. We approach the next week with [Great fear and trepidation?-Ed] great fear and trepidation.
Middle Daughter's childhood BFF took us for a drive around the block. We gripped the door handle the entire time. Then they went for froyo.
Cargo ships and oil tankers are transiting Hormuz and the Iranians are pissed about it. And look at that, oil has dropped below 70 quid a barrel. This blog suspects lifting the blockade helps America in the short term more than it helps Iran. Victor Davis Hanson is always right.
Will's sports wrap. Our mother's ancestral soccer team lost 3 nil to Brazil. Last night the Phillies came back with two out in the top of the ninth, after doing so in spectacular fashion the night before. That's baseball, Susan, as the late Mr. John Sterling used to say.
DOGE report.
We read through and did a lot of work on the BAOR story. Some narrative inconsistencies remain. Sometimes the signalman tells General Tuzo he has a message. Sometimes it's the battalion sergeant. Not a huge deal, but why the difference?
We wrote a new scene and edited a couple of scenes and pondered what scenes must needs be next in World War 1990: Thatcher's War.
Our grognard mailed us - yes mailed - some notes for the Dublin attack; autistic weirdo. Paranoia strikes deep, it was once sung. and we looked upon the envelope with [Not great fear and trepidation again?-Ed] great fear and trepidation again. Should we have refused delivery? That clip is exactly how we approached the letter, which contained nothing but a piece of notebook paper upon which the grognard had written notes in incredibly neat and small letters. Everything was fine, no white powder or anything. [That's what he wants you to think-Ed]. We'll be on the lookout for flu-like symptoms.