Thursday Back in New Jersey

We're back after a brief stopover at Ferncliff Cemetary, Hartsdale New York to commune with dead relatives. After leaving rocks on the grave placards (Jews should never leave flowers) we said, 'Come on girls. Let's go. It's dead here.' 

On the drive home yesterday, about two hours, we spent a lot of time pondering why visiting our childhood home prompts such odd feelings of nostalgia. As we've written before, we see ghosts. We mean we actually see the memory ghosts in the house, on the street, the little bits of our childhood that remain 30 (or so) years after we moved out. But why? Going to the Stroock Northern Strategic Direction doesn't bring out these feelings. And that house has been in the family for 50 years. We don't know. We must dwell on this. 

The weather is unseasonably hot today, 88 degrees. 

We couldn't find our Soviet flag for Yuri Gagarin day. So we flew an IDF flag. 

Yesterday we learned we have two Israel baseball caps. Who knew?

Substack has launched Notes, a Twitter rival. We're already on Substack and have thought maybe we should use Notes, but it feels like Notes would be just another failed digital effort. Okay, we posted a note. Let's see what happens. 

Here I am thinking about The New American Order and World War 1990: The Final Storm. Mrs. Stroock remarked that she doesn't understand how we can work on two novels at once and keep everything straight. We shrug in the most Mediterranean way possible and say, 'eh' Canadianly. 

We are toying with the idea of redoing the covers of Three Seas, Nederland, and The Weser in the manner of the first four World War 1990 books. Would it make a difference? We'll get some estimates. Update: we got an estimate. Worthwhile?

We have approved the interior proof of The New American Order. May. Heck, we could probably release it earlier if we wanted to.