Oh, Boy, Am I Tired!

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I don’t sleep very well; but I had almost pulled it off last night when my wife turned her light on suddenly–I find that painful!–and rummaging around for her glasses. Of course she didn’t find them and I had to get up and look, too.

Under the bed? Nope? Under the cabinet? No. Under the oxygen machine? Nope. I looked. I moved furniture. Crikey, waddaya do when your glasses disappear?

The reason I couldn’t find ’em was because they weren’t there. Send that one in to the Riddle Bureau. The glasses were on the bed. Somehow Peep the cat got blamed for that.

Also this morning I’ve been trying to help our friend “thewhiterabbit” get back onto this blog. He went on a little vacation and when he came back, he’d lost access to this site. The best I could do, in the long run, was to collect some advice from the WordPress Happiness Engineer and pass it on.

So I’m already beat. Don’t expect great things from me today.

A Difficult Writing Environment

Human Hand Writing Word 'Cold' On The Foggy Window. Water Droplets  Condensation Background Of Dew On Glass, Humidity And Foggy Close Up View.  Outside The House, Bad Raining Weather. Stock Photo, Picture

I don’t want to say it’s a hostile environment, because, after all, the robo-calls can’t get to me out there. But it’s gettin’ cold outside, and I estimate I’ll need at least another month to finish writing The Witch Box. I’ll need another legal pad, too.

This weekend I went back over the last 35 or 40 pages that I’ve written. I caught one howling inconsistency, but I can easily fix that when I type the manuscript.

I’m committed now to writing my way all the way through to the twin climaxes and the end of the story. Then I’ll go back and fill the hole I created when I jumped a few chapters ahead. Because I’m racing the calendar, other assignments will have to take a back seat for a while.

Time to go back out and work! I guess I’ll wear a sweatshirt under my jacket. “Sean from Discover” can’t possibly bother me outside.

See yiz in a bit.

Only a Thousand Comments Left to Go!

G’day! Byron the Quokka here–and pardon me for eating my breakfast while I deliver this announcement; but if I don’t chow down on this crunchy yellow leaf, someone else’ll get it.

We have now more than 79,000 comments in the bin, and we’re shooting for that glorious milestone of 80,000. This time last year, we would’ve easily collected 1,000 more comments in half a month. This year? Well, let’s see!

The lucky winner who posts Comment No. 80,000 will win either an autographed book or one of those cool T-shirts that says “If they have to kill us, they’ve lost.” The King of Rottnest Island wears one.

Ah! And how do you suppose he got to be king of Rottnest Island in the first place? Eh? He won a bloomin’ comment contest, that’s how! He was universally admired for that: everybody demanded he be king.

All comments are eligible, except for the following: comments abusive to anyone else at this site, f-bombs and other profane expressions, ads thinly disguised as comments–which means someone thinks we must be really stupid–and comments just too dopey to bother with. Beyond that, anything goes.

I’m Late, Late, Late!

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I did a podcast this morning, with our friend Elijah Holsten. My excuse is, I thought it was going to be Tuesday, not today. Anyway, I’ve done it.

But now I’m late! It’s not raining, so I have to, have to, have to! use the opportunity to work on my book. I also have to write a Newswithviews column–about what, I have no idea. And I need to generate blog posts.

Yipes, look at that clock–I’ve got to get out there and write…

Don’t Forget the Comment Contest!

The Quokka has to be the most photogenic animal on the planet! Photo via  Rottnest Island | Niedliche tiere, Tiere, Süße tiere

Crikey, here I am again! I guess if you’re a quokka and your name is Byron, you can forget about getting any rest around here.

I’m here to remind you we’ve got a comment contest going, shooting for that milestone of 80,000 comments. We currently have just over 78,800, which means we have less than 1,200 comments to go. Come on, everybody, saddle up!

Ordinarily the winner would get an autographed book or a really cool T-shirt, but I thought we needed something a bit more exciting.

See that nice ocean in the background? How would you like to win a ship to sail upon that ocean? But you can’t see the ship I’m talking about–because it’s under the water!

That’s right–you could win a submarine! Just be the lucky blighter who posts Comment No. 80,000. Feel just like Captain Nemo! Only without the giant squids, of course.

Strangled for Time

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What with grocery shopping and having to take Patty to the doctor for a test, with a book that I have to finish writing before cold weather sets in, I don’t have much time today. So if this blog seems skimpy today, that’s why.

There’s all sorts of grotesque nooze I could report today; but someone else will do it, I suppose. I’ll try to write Joe Collidge when we get back from the doctor’s. You won’t read that anywhere else.

I’ve got to get outside now and use the 90-minute window available to my book today–90 minutes is all I’ve got.

Hey! While you’re here, visit the blog Archives. Go back and see what a mess 2016 was, or any other year.

Oh! a hymn request is coming in…

Comment Contest–It’s On!

71 QUOKKAS!!!!!! ideas in 2021 | quokka, happy animals, cute animals

Never let it be said a quokka backed away from a challenge!

We are shooting for 80,000 comments on this blog, and we currently have a few more than 78,500. Only 1,500 to go!

Byron the Quokka here, launching our latest comment contest. Whoever posts No. 80,000 will win an autographed book or this cool T-shirt that says “If they have to kill us, they’ve lost.”

Back in December, it would’ve taken just two weeks to run up 1,500 comments. Well, Big Tech has put a stop to that.

But imagine how amazed and disappointed, how emotionally crushed they’ll be, if they see that level of readership returning to this blog. They’ll wish their mothers never met their fathers.

So come on, sound off! All comments are eligible except for abuse of fellow readers, f-bombs, or stuff that’s just too stupid to publish. Otherwise, anything goes!

Oh, Fap–Too Late!

Writing Prompt – In the Rain | Karavansara

Well, it has started raining–just before I could get my chair set up and open my legal pad to where I left off yesterday.

Sorry, but I just can’t do this kind of work indoors. For me to write it, I have to be able to see it, hear it, touch it–all in my mind, of course. I can’t do that indoors, it just won’t work for me.

Hot dog, here comes the thunder. I think I’ll go out and have a cigar… and think. It doesn’t hurt to stop and think about the story that I’m writing.

Back in a bit.

Sorry! Forgot the Link

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You couldn’t hear my podcast? Well, that’s because I forgot to type in the link! I was in a hurry to get to the grocery store, and so this vital ingredient of the post was left out. I have just put it in; now you should be able to hear the podcast.

What a swell time I had at the store. Coming out, the wind snatched my list and blew it away. As I tried to catch it, the cart full of groceries went zooming off toward Route 1. As I turned to chase it, my leg gave out under me and I had a fall. I didn’t get hurt, but passersby thought it looked pretty awful. Thank you, years and years of judo training.

Look at this–almost one o’clock already. I have to get to work on my book and hope I can catch up blogging later.

Enjoy the podcast. Heh-heh.

Get to Work!

Dog Weary Domestic Animal - Free photo on Pixabay

I’ve just realized I’ve got to write a Newswithviews column today–in addition to as much of The Witch Box as I can manage, blog posts, and if there’s anything else, well, I’ve forgotten it.

I have no idea what the column ought to be about. Just now, my book is calling me outside.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if more people actually read? Like if they were to read C.S. Lewis’ That Hideous Strength. Guess I ought to put that on my homeschool reading list–although I doubt many of today’s college students would understand it. The middle school kids at St. Helena’s would, though.