Good Morning, Stroock's Books weekenders and happy Saturday. Also, Shabbat Shalom. We haven't gotten in a Friday night Judaism for a couple of weeks now. Shame on us. Next Friday for certain though as Mrs. Stroock will be leading services. Our Rabbi is away.
Saturday's are odd for us, and one never quite knows what to do with oneself, especially in the winter. There must be something useful we can be doing around the house but we're not sure what it is. We'll probably begin some Ulster Defence Regiment scenes. Which leads us to....the Things.
We had an excellent week with World War 1990: Thatcher's War. We moved the plot along nicely. The Derry chapter (or Londonderry for you protestants out there) is disjointed and weird and needs lots of work, which is always true, but it's down.
On Substack, and this is hilarious, we've actually been accused of having IRA and anti-British sympathies because we've been writing about Derry and not Londonderry.* Our friends across the pond in Britain and Ireland think that's hilarious. Which it is. What next? Are we're going to be accused of supporting William the Bastard? Everyone knows this blog is staunchly in Harold Godwinson's camp, the last legitimate king of England. Also, God bless Ian Smith. You know who you are.
We eagerly await the return of War Night from editing.
*For the rest of you dumb Yanks, if you're Catholic you live in Derry, if you're Protestant you live in Londonderry. These people will blow each other up over anything. I'd like to see them get into a brawl over Rory Gallagher's best album. 'I said Rory's best album is Deuce, you Papist bastard!'
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