One after another into the stack they go.
Bales become time. It isn't 2 o'clock. It's another 130 bales since lunch. Another tier on the stack.
It's another pass with wagon and bale lift.
Another paragraph before coffee. Run the edits on chapter seven before eating. Transpose three more chapters into Scrivener before the weekend is over.
I never knew stacking hay was preparation for the real work I wanted to do. I certainly didn't think so at the time.
My characters don't spend enough time relaxing as the crew re-positions their yacht for the winter. I thought of this on the way to the day job yesterday morning. I should research the filthy rich. Better scotch. Learn to like caviar on toast points. Maybe bathe in champagne..
I haven't a story with a filthy rich noir-style protagonist. Ah, the black hearts and broken dream of the super-privileged. There's always angst. There's envy. There's murder.
I remember a comic from my youth where Scrooge McDuck squared off against the Beagle Boys. Hmm. One versus many. I liked the beagle boys better.
Sure, it's a not the most identifiable of character schemes. It would however be fantastic research.
One has to plan and plot.
Off to the ink. I wonder if I can get a tour of a bank vault if I asked nicely?
The Britannia 74 below. It's a semi-custom on an established design making it affordable luxury. Even the very wealthy have to be careful with money.
Lovely yacht.
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