Last weekend, we were infested by a pod of Fritzes. And, I enjoy saying that, because I happen to know that Fritz the Elder, aka Bob, aka Fritzy, is a fan of this blog. Their infestation is relevant to this blog for two reasons:
First, we attended a murder mystery dinner theater. Yeah, yeah, I know; it’s not usually my thing, either. But this was being performed by the good people of Colonial Playhouse, and a few of the actors were my friends, to wit, Sam Barrett, Mark Knight, and Erin Marie Friel. Also, the Fritz pod includes two Fritzes in chrysalis form, and this seemed like good, all-ages entertainment. Also, also, it was performed in a tiki bar. Everybody likes tiki bars, and not ironically, either. If someone says to you that they ironically like a tiki bar, you should punch them in the mouth.
Second, the two eldest Fritzes (a mated pair, no less) served as the daring test pilots of my new Murphy bed. As you may have noticed in earlier posts, I dabble in woodworking, and I decided to build a Murphy bed in my study. We’re all getting a little older, and the cots I keep in my attic don’t always cut it. Also, for some strange reason, physical activity seems to allay my headaches, so I’ve been trying to break up my writing sessions with constructing stealthy furniture. Anyway, I don’t think I’m finished with the decorative part of my latest creation, but it’s certainly functional. I’m still deciding how to properly adorn it, but there’s no rush.
There’s precious little about writing in this post, so let me wind it up by saying that I’ve spent the last two weeks plotting the next five chapters of my novel (roughly, 25,000 words or, even more roughly, 100 pages), and I’m finally diving into it tomorrow. I’m very much looking forward to continuing the adventures of Miss Nifty Brandenburger.