Last night, while stirring the wok with more enthusiasm than finesse, I managed to splash the dog with black bean sauce. He quite liked it and spent the evening grooming himself but couldn’t do the top of his head. He has quite a faux-hawk today. It really suits him.
And here’s a picture of the machine gun I was fiddling with at lunchtime to see how easy it would be too shoot out of a car window. It’s a Great War Bermann MP18 and how it got in Mr XXXX’s garden shed nobody knows, but it was in full working order when it was handed in. It’s SO heavy. I can’t pick it up with one hand which leads me to believe that I may be distressingly girly.
Watching a tv show about aerial intell at RAF Medmenham during WW2 and getting far too enticing a plot bunny. That’s 2 in one day and I really don’t want to be distracted from the things I’m already fiddling with. Eleventh Hour is now at 26k words and at just over half way through I’m over the saggy boring middle and writing murder and mayhem and Mills Bombs [or Mills and Boom as author Steve Emmett described it]. Okay, I’ve skipped writing the sex scenes to concentrate on the heroics, but that works better for me.
Little bit of randomness – one of the photographic interpreters at RAF Medmenham went on the join Walt Disney and wrote the screen play for Pirates of the Caribbean!
Aren’t you happy to know that? 🙂