Pigeon was an omen afterall

It seems that the pigeon was meant to be an omen. It would have been more clear if it had shit on my shoulder or something, but one can't expect too much from omens.
Especially if one doesn't believe in them.

Eight in a row!

Ah, such a record. Can anyone match it?
I've just been laid off. March would have been 5 years at this job.
THIS MAKES 8 IN A ROW!
I dare you to claim you can match this record.

I guess now I have no excuse. I'll have to finish the rewrite of my fantasy book and send it out.
Not that anyone gets rich from writing books, but I'm only looking for a little income.
haha.

New Year begins

At least by the calendar, a new year has begun today. Many of us feel it is already about day 10 of a new year, but I can get behind the "normal" date as well.
I don't have many superstitions and even fewer rituals, but I would like to believe that how you spend the first day of the year sets the tone for the whole of the thing.
With that in mind, here's how my year has begun: I got a solid night sleep; I toasted a slice of homemade wheat/fig bread, with olive oil and sea salt; I'm writing this before I even check my email, and I've got some good coffee brewing; I'm listening to Fred McDowell's "Fred's Blues".
For the remainder of the day, I hope to get in a walk, a skirmish wargame, and some work on the book from NaNoWriMo. I also want to finish an art project for my daughter.
What are your plans for the new year?

A pigeon hat

I walked out of the warehouse toward my little office space and paused to "sniff the air" as we ex-bikers tend to do.
I spied a pigeon perched on one of the trucks; it'd been hanging about all day. When I stopped and looked at it, it turned its head, eyeing me as though I was either an old friend or I was food.
A quick 'coo' and a flutter of wings and the stupid thing landed on my head! I felt its little toes digging into my scalp, and as I turned back to see if anyone was watching, I felt its beak peck onto my head.
I admit I was surprised. I put out my arms, palms up, unconsciously mimicing the pose on my grandmother's statue of St. Francis.
When my boss stopped laughing, he scooped the silly thing off my head and returned it to the bed of the truck (where he had apparently been offering it bird seed all morning).
Was this a fitting end to a strange year, or an omen for the year to come?
Time will tell.

Gaming again

At last, I've made time to do some wargaming.
I've put up a new blog, NovaAlbion, to record the games. I'm interested in a sort of SteamPunk version of California, a place where Professor Hollister McAllister can sell his snake oil, hire indians for his army, and arm Sasquatch with Radium rifles in his attempt to conquer the world!
Of course, the British control/own New Albion, sometimes referred to as the Crown Colony of California.
Imagine: California Lancers and Redcoats against Mexicans, against rebellious American immigrants, against indians and sasquatch and steam mechano-men!
What could be better?

Oh, the joy

Oh, the joy of having actually written a draft of a novel in such a short time! For me, it was 16 days (37 hours of keyboard time).
But the work is just beginning. I've decided that the story doesn't seem to contain enough threat to the main character (MC) and he doesn't seem to be under enough stress at the end.
So I've begun adding a second thread, a subplot, that I had always intended to put in but never found the easy links to include. Now's the time for that.
As I'd learned in High School English, I made an outline (but, as in HSE, after I'd written the first draft; sorry, Mrs. Bagnal).
Now I'm happily adding 3x5 cards of plot points and filling in the MC background to make the events the worst possible things for him. I get to devise his history, so why not?
The happy bit is that I'm still having fun with this, and now I actually feel I could make it into a salable book. I mean, it's done, right? Now I'm just editing the internal bits.
So if you've never joined NaNoWriMo, consider it for next year.
It's kind of too late for this year; tomorrow is the last day.
Man, writing is so much more fun than any other hobby!

Too much celebration

Well, to celebrate hitting the 50,000 words in the NaNoWriMo challenge, I bought a triple-chocolate cake and some chocolate ice cream. Sunday AND Monday, I had ice cream and cake for desert, with extra chocolate sauce.
Before you ask, I am not normally a chocolate person.
Tuesday morning, my toes felt like they had rug burns. I'm told this is a warning to diabetics that they have strayed too far from the proper diet.
Like I needed a reminder? Well, it seems I did. That's the trouble with things that don't hit you over the head with reminders: you forget, or decide you are OK now. 
I'm not.
So back to extremely little alcohol, no sugar snacks, slow-digesting starches, etc.
Maybe I'll remember this time.