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Posts Tagged ‘Sheaffer Targa’

The Only Good Thing About Autumn

Posted by Dirck on 20 October, 2017

The days grow short and cold, the nights grow long and colder.  The trees disrobe and the birds flee.  The promise of the great destroying season is in the air.  Heating bills wax fat and ridiculous.  Autumn is, in the vestments of gold and scarlet it creeps in on, the herald of an profoundly uncomfortable portion of the year, and I cannot welcome it.

Except for one saving grace.  For all that is wrong with it, autumn carries in its gaunt belly the darkly radiant egg of Hallowe’en.

Just imagine what I’ll be like next week.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s ink: Pelikan Violet

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Posted by Dirck on 12 October, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 793 words typed

That’s a pretty weak showing for the week. Let me explain, and perhaps even justify.  Monday was Thanksgiving up here in the Great White North, and that meant I was paddling about the house doing important house stuff prior to heading to my in-laws’ place for the traditional attempt to eat enough to last out the whole winter.  And that meant no writing.

But wait!  There’s more!  Today, indeed even as this entry is being posted by cool and unsympathetic electronic hands, I am off to see my doctor.  You may remember that in December and then again in April I mentioned having wrenched the crap out of my knee.  Up until the last week of September, I would have told you that I was pretty much recovered from this.  Mid-way through that week, for absolutely no reason I could notice, the knee was all inflamed and painful again; no new acrobatics, no attempted heroics, not even inclement weather.  That became the point at which I allowed common sense to overcome self-destructive idiotic laziness; I made an appointment to have it looked at.

Given the intermittent use of Canada’s handling of health-care in the debate over how things might be re-arranged in the US, I’m going to talk about this astonishing delay for a moment. I will admit that the distance between making the appointment and its arrival is somewhat inconvenient, although the leg is back to being merely somewhat sore.  However, I don’t want anyone to point at this and shout, “There!  See the horrible toll TEH SOCIALIZISMS takes on those poor benighted fools in Canada!” Here’s my take on this delay–

First of all, my doctor is quite good, popular and getting to be of an age where he wants to work less than five days a week; this makes for a full calendar.  Given that the most recent injury was five months ago, I can hardly call this an emergency, and even if I did call it an emergency, it’s not an Emergency Room emergency.  I could have, if moved by relentless agony, have sat for a couple of hours in any one of a number of open clinics around the city, and have my problem seen to by a competent if unfamiliar doctor (and thus left the emergency room less burdened by dummies like me and able to concentrate on people in authentic serious emergency trouble).  The delay is the price I pay for insisting on seeing the doctor I have chosen… which we can do here in Canada, honest.

Importantly, whether I wait several hours in an ER (because triage would put me waaaaay down the list of people needing attention), a couple of hours at a clinic, or a couple of weeks while the line of many satisfied patients my doctor enjoys cycles through to me, I am not paying for it.  Yes, I am paying for it through taxes, and that’s fine with me, because I’d be paying taxes anyway, and at about the same rate if I lived in neighbouring North Dakota, the same way I’m paying for police and fire departments and all that other stuff that people forget about when they complain about taxes.  However, my experience today will include no billing– I enter, I am probed, I get medical advice on my physical state, I leave and that’s that.  If I am sent for x-rays, same deal, but with extra radiation.  If the doctor tells me to come back in a month to see how I’m getting on, then it’s the same deal again.  If I have to start a long series of treatments because he notices I have a powerful and long-simmering case of The Spon Plague, then it’s still the same deal.  Watch as carefully as you like, as no time will my wallet leave my pocket.

I think that’s a pretty good deal, and certainly worth the .  I don’t know why people in the US resist it so fiercely (other than that they’ve been convinced by the people who make money off their system that it’s the only way to roll).

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Happy Birthday, Dear Spheroid

Posted by Dirck on 6 October, 2017

I’m a couple of days late on this, I know, but this week marks the sixtieth anniversary of the proof that “What goes up must come down” has a caveat which reads “…unless you can throw really, really hard.”

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s ink: Pelikan Violet

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Posted by Dirck on 28 September, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 3,408 words typed

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Posted by Dirck on 21 September, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Progress
  • 2,997 words typed

Not a terrible week, I guess, and more than I thought I’d manage– a couple of segments attacked this week were very like pulling teeth.  I’m also not going to manage to present a new work at the other outlet this week, as I have the last couple, because this week The Regular Job entered one of its infrequent “this is as much fun and effort as juggling flaming bears” phases.  I know I’m disappointing some people, and I’m also disappointing me.  The reproachful looks over the bathroom sink are going to be very hard to take.

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Ouroborous

Posted by Dirck on 17 February, 2017

When I started doing these Friday films, the conceit was a return to grade school c. 1977, when a frazzled teacher would throw something on the projector in part to add to the students’ hoard of knowledge, but also to give her voice a rest and keep the little monsters distracted for a few blessed minutes.  Today, although the need for these entries has waned, I’m pleased to be able to close the loop on the conceit; you can almost feel the purr of sprockets through the 16mm celluloid on this one:

Closed loop is not to say closed conceit.  Friday Found Films will persist.  Also– VOTE

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s… surprisingly low… ink: Waterman blue-black.  I hope I make it through the day on this wee remaining dribble.

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Posted by Dirck on 9 February, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Written
  •  17 manuscript pages, plus a whopping three pages for a story aimed at that anthology of Victoria-era weird tales I think I mentioned, which closes in mid-April (that’s painfully close).

Some of my scribbling time has been eaten up this week in getting research details in hand for that short story, which I haven’t been quite able to convince myself to not bother with. Fool!  Don’t I know how few hours of productive writing I can count on in a week?  The novel must be done this year, not next!

While I’m diverting myself from the effort on the novel, I’ll also mention that coming up… sometime this month, I’m going to go old-school with a look at a slightly wicked pen repair and a call for input as to what should be done with a blameless orphan pen that has come into my care.  As usual, it’s a lack of pictures that makes these things not happen yet.

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Posted by Dirck on 2 February, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Written
  •  23 manuscript pages (that’s a little better).

 

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Indiana Jones and the Very Sore Knuckles

Posted by Dirck on 27 January, 2017

I’ll probably start to trail off on things inspired by politics in another country soon, but a friend posted this on Facebook…

indypunch

…and that got me thinking of a possible thing to look for as this week’s film.  Sure enough, the internet provides.

There’s something to remember, gang– they will, sometimes, punch back.  Keep your guard up, and don’t let them rest.

Today’s pen: Sheaffer Targa
Today’s ink: Waterman blue-black

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Posted by Dirck on 19 January, 2017

This Week’s Pens Inks How Much Novel Written
  •  22 manuscript pages.

A joyful… more or less… realization on Tuesday, that the point-of-view of the novel wasn’t quite where it should be.  This will make extra work on the second draft (thus “or less”), but it also mean some elements that have been a drag-inducing burden to the narrative can be more easily handled and I should be able to skip along a little more briskly henceforth.

I’m also faced with a couple of other projects that might distract me from this hoped-for brisk skipping; there’s a call from weird stories which also examine the effects of colonization in the Victorian era, and my wife is urging me to convert something to a screenplay for a local competition.  Egad.

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