Will's Water World

Good Wednesday assembled Stroock's Books readership. We woke this morning to see the tiny little baby deer that was laying in our backyard last night, and the Stroocklette's were oooing and ahhing over, was laying in our backyard this morning. What's the proper procedure for disposing of a dead baby deer?

We awoke also to our relatively new dishwasher leaking. We were not pleased. Mrs. Stroock was even more not pleased. We thought, 'Well goddamn it. Repairs are a fortune. We might as well just get a new dishwasher'. Then we saw a spatula was hanging down from the top rack. Surely the spatula was interfering with the proper operation of the top spray arm, causing the water to pool in one place and overwhelm the drain system. We tested our theory and it was correct. Dad score 4.5/5. We're so happy. Mrs. Stroock pleased. Woman of the House! I have been doing man things...[I dare you to finish that thought Ed.] Yes mummy.

Weights on Monday, a six mile walk yesterday during which we were accosted by a Canada Goose who thought we were getting too close to his younglings. We blame Justin Trudeau. Damn you Justin, take your geese back to Canada. Bastards. And go Florida Panthers. Keep Lord Stanley's Cup in America where it belongs. Ironically, Youngest Daughter is Canada for the international themed Field Day at school. Anyway, we feel great. Totally based. We'll do our cardio routine today. 

Hamas has responded to the American/Israeli ceasefire proposal with a proposal of its own. Anon Israeli sources say this amounts to a radical change to their last proposal. Blinken is critical as well. It's clear to this blog that neither Sinwar nor Netanyahu really want a ceasefire deal. Which is fine. It is said Sinwar believes Hamas is winning and civilian casualties are necessary to win the war. Maybe he is, maybe they are. Let them fight. Sources we follow believe Israel attacks Hezbollah by August. Dark, dark days lay ahead. 

Alright, alright, alright....the grognard is sending us his notes tonight. We await them with great fear and trepidation. The proofer is sending us the proofed copy of the World War 1990: Norway proof. Our own reading continues slowly but unabated. The crap one finds even after all this. We hate our job on weeks like this. Frankly, weeks like this we wonder why we didn't take that vacuum cleaner salesman job back in '98. We've made a bit of progress on World War 1990: Thatcher's War. Writing those Irish intros, we are. Look up LÉ Eithne.