“Doing nothing is usually best”

That is one of my life-mottoes.  It is derived from Calvin Coolidge saying “If you see ten troubles coming down the road, you can be sure that nine will run into the ditch before they reach you.”

Strangely, one of my other life-mottoes is from the US Marine Corps:  “Doin’s better than thinkin’,” which I have used in one of my books.  The gripping hand between the two is knowing when to act and when not to.

First Councilman MacRae’s proposal to Faustina was a bolt from the blue for her and me.  Thankfully he gave her time.  She takes a little of that time to place it before the brother she loves so much and her sister-in-law she thinks so mistaken.  They come to the same conclusion:  give it time.  In a month or two, they could be in a hot-war with the PLA, or attacked on another front, or revolution at home, or… or… the horse just might learn to sing.

Tomorrow:  back to Savannah!

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Negotiations start

Time for a little politics, unfortunately.  I agree with Faustina:  I want to see her back to her legions so I find out what the heck happens next, too.  But, honestly, she cannot go back empty-handed.  She has to have concrete information for the PLA general, Zhou.  The first steps of that are settled here.  I suspect we’ll see more when she meets privately with the First Councilman in about ten of their days.

I’m off DayJob tomorrow and hoping to get at least 5k words down… or more!

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A Father’s Love

Faustina gets some laps in the pool then a bit of shock about what she is turning into in the city of Knoxville… essentially, her image is outstripping who she really is.  The question shall be:  does she try to catch up, or go another direction entirely?

Either way, her dad thinks this is all a crock and is worried sick about his little girl.

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Rehab

After not formally writing for a week and half, I feel as if I should be entering rehab; I have (looks about) five pages of notes from downtime at DayJob and quiet times about my house but when I just didn’t the time to sit down in front of the laptop.

That came to an end today.  Daughter #2 off on a cancer fun-raiser, wife doing something about the house somewhere… I’d no more excuses.  I fired up the pellet stove in the basement and came down thirty minutes later to write.  So far, it’s working.  3k words of Faustina’s recover in the Knoxville hospital flowed right out.  There’s much there:  her physical condition, the reaction of her family to her injuries, and her fervent desire to return to “her boys” as soon as she is able.  It will be a balancing act for her, in, I think, three parts.  Here’s part one.

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