Ransom

Okay, here's what I mean by State of Jefferson, being Northern Calif. and So. Oregon. It's been around for a long time, so might fit into our airship time frame. My characters home port could be there. However, the flag and seal really are bad. They look more like a beer label. State of Jefferson

Well, one good turn deserves another, since we share the same Birthday, and apparently you will be away celebrating tomorrow. And yes, we will be enjoying our mutual birthday celebration while sailing on Aldebaran come June — how much better could two birthdays get?

overachiever! LOL Actually, it's to get them out of the way, so I can finish an airship project, and start making two weskets, all due for Nor Cal in June. And yes, I am the worlds worst procrastinator when it comes to sewing garb.

The food stuffs for the Maid of Gibraltar were almost completely loaded within the hold. Ioan Loghry, sweating like a pig, climbed back up on deck, enjoying the small bit of breeze which cooled his face. With a darting look, he inspected his chances of stowing away, but instinctively knew that he was still being watched. He’d thought once the Rakehell and her crew left Port Royal that he’d be free of the constant guard that had dogged him ever since he’d stabbed that she-witch Ransom. He’d hoped to kill her, but had failed. For months her crewe — his former mates — had watched his every move, and blocked any attempt he made to leave Port Royal. Now they were gone, but others had taken their place. Men he’d never seen before, who never spoke to him, or attempted him any bodily harm, but kept him caged within the city as thoroughly as if he were caged behind iron bars. No ship offered him safe passage, and even though he’d managed to get a job as a dock hand, he’d never been able to sneak aboard any of the ships he’d helped load. Seething with frustration, he took out his anger on the town whores, where word among them spread that he was cruel and dangerous. Some were even starting to refuse his money. Like a cornered lion tormented jackals, Ioan was a man ready to explode if he could not escape this island prison. And when he did, the captain of the Rakehell would be the first person to pay for his months of incarceration.

Hmmm. I wonder what So. Oregon would have been called back then/now. The Rain Forest Republic...Moss United (er, no, that sounds like a soccer team), Confederate Mushroom State? LOL Actually, there is a mythical State of Jefferson, which included parts of Northern Calif. and So. Oregon. We still have State of Jefferson Public Radio. Apparently at one time, this area was thinking of creating a new state, with that moniker. So, if I made a card, it would be from the State of Jefferson — I'll have to do some research and see if they ever made a flag. I'm sure they must have.

My cards went out to Michael today.

Oh, goodie. It looks like I won't be getting a book until June. Right when I need to get ready for a HUGE family reunion BBQ at my place, and Nor Cal. Uh, Patrick, you may get July's book late! LOL

What about a variety pak?

This morning when I went to check on the Canadian goose who is nesting on our pond, I discovered four new little goslings. So cute. The whole family was strolling down the driveway between my garden and the pump house — mom and dad keeping a close guard over the little guys. This is about the seventh year the pair have come back to nest on the floating nest-box Chain Shot built for them.

Hmmm, I have a huge family reunion BBQ coming up the weekend before Nor Cal. Maybe I'll serve some Cannibal Chrispy treats for dessert. Hey, Patrick, speaking of Nor Cal. Are we offering Cannibal Crispy treats to visitors to the Tales/Airship encampment? That would be a hoot.

Okay, you know you're a real Firefly fan when you refer to your cheap garden hose that keeps kinking up on you, as a piece of gosa(?).

To one of the nicest souls on the Pub — a most splendid natal day to you Eyes! As Jill said, we must drink a toast to April birthdays at Nor Cal. Hope your day was grand.

Okay, I'm a little confused here. How can this guy claim the other neighbor's house cat was in his yard? Does he have pictures? I mean, it's just his word against the cat owner. Without proof, how does Animal Control know who is telling the truth? How do they fine someone with no proof the cat was ever in the guys yard? I can understand the trapped ones, but house cats that never go out! That makes no sense at all. Maybe someone needs to set a trap for the dog. Does it go around the neighborhood like the cats? Bait a dog trap with some hamburger and then call Animal Control. See how he likes being on the other end of the stick. Shesh.

Gunwharf Quay, Portsmouth. 10:30 am Rain continued to pour as Simon navigated the chaos of men and supplies crowding the wharf. Buffeted along like a piece of flotsam, he received many a curse, and one or two shoves out of the way. Once beside her, Simon was aghast at the size of the Terra, although she was not the largest ship in port. However, to him she was a giant tangle of robe, canvas, masts and men, which he despaired of ever figuring out. After another shove, which nearly sent him into the water, Simon approached a ramp, which led from the wharf to the ship. A man with a leather-bound ledger was making notes as men carried barrels and bales aboard. Those containers too large for human labor were being hauled into the ship with a heavy boom, from which was suspended a thick-roped net. Simon approached the man, and trying to be heard over the rain and the din, asked, “Excuse me, but with whom do I speak regarding passage on board?” The man looked up from his accounts, and glared. “Terra's not a passenger vessel. Move off.” “I’m sorry, I may have worded that incorrectly. I am assigned to this ship. What I was asking is, how do I go about getting on board? Is there someone I must check in with?” The man gave Simon a hard inspection. “And who might you be?” “Simon Millechamp, company agent.” The man gave him an even longer inspection, then snorted. “You won’t last a week.”

Still recruiting! The more players, the more fun.

Patrick will know!

Where do we sign? Oh, blast....how unfortuitious. I regret to say, the distance and cost put me at a disadvantage. Regrets.

Just a refresher course, in case she turns back up! (You know she will! ) Rakehell — Rake-masted schooner. Black hull with red stripe. Sienna sails. Flush deck, no poop deck (see my sig for a visual). Originally built for stealth and speed as a smuggling vessel. Ransom — Captain. Never gives her birth name (well, except to one special person). Late 20's (this is fiction, folks. LOL) Came by the Rakehell through dubious means, and for the last eight years has paid with body and soul to keep her. Very good with knives and other pointy weapons, but can use a pistol when required. Can speak French, Italian, and a bit of Arabic. Volatile temper. (Well, she's a redhead) Tends to be sarcastic, and skeptical of people's motives. Takes no shite, from man nor beast. Africa — Former slave, rescued from a Spanish galleon. Devoted to Ransom, and now her personal bodyguard and first mate. Doesn't know how old he is, but probably in his mid 30s. Over six feet tall, with tribal scarring on face and arms. Ioan Loghry — Former first mate, now traitor. A handsome Welshman. Charming to ladies, but with a giant chip on his shoulder. Thinks the world owes him a living. Mid 30s. Currently in hiding in Port Royal. Tunny Dobson — Ships carpenter. Late 40s, thin, with sandy colored hair. Has been with Ransom since she took the Rakehell. Jimmy Cox — Able seaman. Early 20s. Still learning the ropes, but devoted to the crew. Goose — Ship's cook. Named not because he can cook a nice goose, but because he's as stupid as one. However, he can fight like a demon, so earns his keep. Ludovico Baglione — Able seaman and prospective new cook. Short, bandy-legged, and in his late 30s. Recently taken on board in Port Royal. When feeling good, he sings Italian opera...loudly. Does not speak English. Collard Dysart — Able seaman and carpenter. Crusty old Scot in his late 50s. Rescued from captivity in Havana. (This character has his own avatar, and posts mostly in The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother, but he is part of the Rakehell crew). **These are characters created by me. Mess with them at your peril!

Out of the corner of his eye, MacTavish saw the sloop come in close to the sand spit, and take the Spaniards on board. "Bluidy hell, I'll not put up with the likes o' that!" But with two ships pinning him down, he could either leave, or fire on the brig at anchor and hope the schooner left him alone. He doubted that would happen, as the schooner had been circling the ships like a jackal, waiting for a reason to rush in and grab him by the jugular. "Maybe it's best we cut our losses and continue on to New Orleans, suh," his first mate muttered. "Tuck tail and run like a cur!" MacTavish bellowed. "Not till I've had a wee talk with yon captain. They're here for a reason, and I'll bluidy well find out what it is afore I leave. Now, keep an eye on that sloop and mark which way she sails."

Ah, Pirate Charles. Very kewl guys, and willing to put up with crazy lost pirates at Nor Cal last year. (It was a gag routine a few of us were using to entertain the public, and the Charles guys played along with us during one of their breaks) I love those guys, and their music rocks!

Come on, Billy. We're all breathlessly waiting to see whose PM got to you first!

Wow, Michael, soooo glad you're okay. Good thing you drive a van, and not some little mini-car. I'll keep my fingers and toes crossed that nothing medical pops up later, when your adrenalen wears off!

Talderoy is a rather imposing fellow. It appears he also like to hang out with Pyrate Charles...but then, who wouldn't?

Wonderful! The more the merrier.