Saturday Updates

Good morning, Stroock's Books weekenders. The temp here is below freezing, a first for the year, we think. 

Well, the Eagles officially suck again. And the Cowboys are surging. To put it another way, the NFL's Black Friday game was certainly a black Friday in the Stroock household. 

We've begun the laborious process of watching Deep Space 9. We haven't seen an episode in 25 + years. Wish us luck. 

We're still not missing Twitter...much. Phone time is down about 30 percent since we assassinated Natan Nagid. 

The HVAC system is operating normally. Huh, so the fan comes on and after a minute the burner starts. The burner stops and after a minute the fan stops. Makes sense.  Just the other day we were telling Mrs. Stroock that we missed being gleefully unaware of how all this equipment works (HVAC, AC units, sump pump etc etc)  and just taking it all for granted. Reminder, yet another HVAC technician said the unit's built to last 10-15 years. This unit is 10 years old.  

On to nicer things. Or the Things, shall we say.

A truncated but decent enough week with World War 1990: Thatcher's War. We're 85.8 percent sure we've written all the scenes we must needs write. We still need to do a little research though, as through 65,000 words we were never quite sure if we were dealing with the Ulster Defence Association or the Ulster Volunteer Force. We're reading a book on the latter and ordered a book on the former. They're both bastards. 

This progress basically knocks Thatcher's War into the read through and editing phase. 

We didn't do nuthing with the 5th nuclear war novel, and still have no idea what those zainey and lovable Irish kids are going to get themselves in to. But we do have them prepared to get into it, whatever it may be.