1. Last Friday, the 29th of November, was the 20th anniversary of the initial posting of Stephen Ratliff's ST:TNG fanfic "Enterprized", the first in his long series about Marrissa Amber Flores Picard. Spelling and grammar errors, a proper Mary Sue of a main character (forget these modern heroines labeled "Mary Sue" solely because they're unusually competent; Marrissa is the real thing), long-winded introduction scenes, tedious space battles, summarizing of major dramatic events as a dry speech after the fact -- these fics were prime fodder for the denizens of rec.arts.tv.misc.mst3k, and to his credit, Mr. Ratliff was a good sport about the whole thing (and actually improved his writing quite a bit over the years, though the ratmm folks still found plenty to have fun with). I'm very grateful to norabombay
for bringing the MSTings to my attention many years ago; they've given me much amusement ever since, and I hope Mr. Ratliff is prospering.
2. After watching him roughhouse with other kids last week, Spouse and I think Middle Son has a fine career ahead of him as a professional wrestler -- sports plus drama!
3. Youngest Son is officially a toddler. Eek.
4. I have about half the required word count for my Yuletide fic; I need to claw out some room-of-my-own time to finish it. I'm trying something that I've never done to this extent in a Yuletide fic, and one of the pieces hasn't quite clicked :-P.
5. Dear self: buying yarn is really, really not the same thing as buying knitting/crocheting time. (Corollary: buying fiber is really, really not the same thing as buying spinning time, let alone knitting/crocheting time.)
6. One of the mysteries surrounding my (presumed) paternal grandfather has been solved. Back in January
, I'd learned that someone of his name (and right age and birth state) was in federal prison in Oklahoma in 1940. This week, while searching a database of old newspaper articles, I found a couple of articles in the Dallas Morning News
that confirmed it was the right man. The crime? Stealing/destroying third-class mail when he was working as a substitute letter carrier in 1936, and then running off to Chicago and hiding out there for three years. (And the best part: his job in Chicago was as a clerk of the criminal court.) He was sentenced to three and a half years in prison, three of those suspended, so he might have been finishing up his jail time at the time of the census. Fun with genealogy!