We picked up Mrs. Stroock and the Stroocklettes from the airport without incident. When one says the nation needs new airports, one is talking about Newark Liberty. Three terminals each with a level for picking up and dropping off which create traffic snarls punctuated by young policeman pissed off they're working New Years Eve shouting at one to get going. One is not supposed to stop at the terminal because this is what the terrorists do. What is this, 2003?
The schools are switching to half days next week. We think they'll go virtual after Monday. Normally we'd think concerned parents should show up at teacher's houses at 6 AM and drag them to work. But we know people who have the Wuhan Virus from Wuhan China and what's this stubborn cough we can't quite kick? It's everywhere here. We think going virtual for the next few weeks is solid policy. Maybe we're just a sucker.
World War 1990: The Weser stands at 62,000 words and counting. There are a few details to fill in here and there. As noted before we didn't quite get in everything we wanted to get in, but we think we're moving on.
We know we talked about The Bastard's Conquest, but we still have no idea what we're writing in 2022. We'll probably just spend January getting 76 and The Weser ready for the editor. We'll do a sneak in novel during the summer. The concept works. That will probably be World War 1990: Battle of the GIUK Gap. Remember, one forward, one back. Which means we will finish The Final Storm.
We have inquired about writing a few what if pieces for 19FortyFive.
Maybe we'll return to posting commercials we like for the hell of it. Here's one. Great Scot! The Champaigne wasn't Korbel.
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