Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Catching Up with the Details, and Serah

I wasn't kidding about the Page 80 Thing. Yesterday, safely past Page 80, I wrote a wonderful and completely pivotal scene. Of course, it's complete shite. (That's the Irish way of spelling the word, pronounced with a long 'i.' More genteel, ain't it?) But pivotal, baby. Because all of a sudden the whole story fell into place, like tumblers on a lock you've been trying to pick, bam bam bam bam bam. Unfortuntely yesterday's scene now belongs at the very end of the story, and I've got to go back to page 40 or so, cut a bunch of stuff out, write a bunch more, rinse, repeat, but that's what writing is. If we got it all right the first time where would be the challenge?

Meanwhile I can now tell you that in World War 2, tractors dug up the potato fields. Children and women followed with buckets, rooting the potatoes out of the loosened earth. When their buckets were full they dumped them into wagons. Children were paid 2 shillings a day for their work plus as many potatoes as they could carry home.

Messerschmitts could carry either 1 or 2 people, depending on the type.

In other news, our senile incontinent terrier spent 10 minutes playing an enthusiastic game of fetch with his boy, who's home from college for the summer. It's the first time he's had enough energy to play in several months. Afterward, he fell into a deep happy sleep on his boy's lap.

I made my mare do dressage and she wasn't happy.

According to all reports, Gully and Hot Wheels, our two retirees on restricted rations, somehow broke their way out of their paddock and are now in the front field eating grass as fast as they possibly can. "Somehow" most likely involves my mare, though reports say she's wearing a very innocent expression.

You have of course heard about the high school girls kidnapped in Nigeria. I saw a website that listed all the girls' names, and asked people to chose one girl and pray for her release and her safety. Mine is Serah Samuel. Please pray for her.