As I mentioned last night I will not write much today. It’s a damn shame I let myself get away with writing as useless as this, but it’s my site and my rules and my damn shame.
46 words on day 568
Smoking Shoulder
I have taken the time to rotate the monitor to portrait and the font to Calibri to tell you that I hate writing at night and that I’m likely not to write very much at all this evening.
Two things you very well know about me and my habits.
In lieu of creative fantastical prose let me do something simple. Let me tell you why I’m not writing much tonight. Our family throws a party each year. We invite invite friends and extended family to our home to carve pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns and drink beer. Most children costume up or their parents make them. In preparation for their happy arrival I’m smoking a pork shoulder.
It takes 10-12 hours to cook this beast so I’m starting at midnight or so. I’ll wake every couple hours to check the meat, the water, the fire, and the smoke. Depending on what I find under the dome, I may rotate the meat a little or I may baste it some. This two-hour checking flows on into the morning and trough till noon. My smoker runs a bit cooler than it should, so I may need to keep the meat on past mid-day—time will tell.
That I will struggle to write tomorrow as well will come as small surprise to regular readers of 1000 Days. Wish me luck.
236 words on day 567
On the Life of Engineer Coffee
http://mcqueconcept.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-tow.html and some of this http://mcqueconcept.blogspot.com/2010/10/last-airborne.html
For more of my Ian McQue inspired writings check out the ‘terminus‘ tag.
“I’ll use your name. Prepared for that?”
Coffee swallowed and asked, “You’d do that to me wouldn’t you?”
“If it’s as necessary as you say, I’d be doing it for you.”
Coffee vented air through his open mouth like a laugh or a fuck you or a crying of uncle. “The sure way or the slow way, huh?”
Admiral Tsien remained still and quiet at his desk. One hand lay on the surface holding down a manila folder marked [something cryptic but pertinent] the other propped up his head as he barely leaned to the side in a leather swivel chair.
Through the many-paned window behind Tsien and his chair, Coffee watched a tug pulling a Type: Recon to altitude. The Lebbeus—it was called—glided steadily right to left, heading north. Tsien licked his lips to speak, but first popped his fingertips from his forehead extending them skyward to mark the culmination of his thoughts. “Oorah.”
Coffee tugged at the soul patch in his goatee. “Oorah,” he said quietly. He then repeated the shape of the word soundlessly several times while still tugging the hair below his lip. Coffee shot up from his own chair and slapped the Admiral’s desk with both hands.
Tsien didn’t flinch.
Coffee leaned across the depth of the steel desk, locked eyes with a man no longer his friend, said, “Do it, Wu. It’s my life either way,” and then left the room.
https://1000days.douglasblaine.com/20101202/engineer-coffees-plans-revealed-nearly/
247 words on day 566