Ransom

Thanks, Eyes. I just figured he'd like to get a feel for one of the bigger events of the pyrate year. BTW, in another thread, Billy Bones is wondering where Black Mab is. Apparently she hasn't responded to his PMs, nor has she posted anything in the Pub in quite a while. Since she is one of the artists on this round, has anyone heard from her? Is she forwarding the books on time?

Then let's hope Mom gets feeling better soon as well. Then you and Phoebe can enjoy more time together, which I'm sure she would love! (Trainers are never as much fun as Moms)

Ummm, Bess....uh, don't you think Phoebe should lay off the Easter eggs, and maybe hop around a bit more? She's looking a little.....um....round? Cute as the devil, mind you, but...round. ::Backs way off, in case Bess decides to sic said round pyrate dog onto myself for my boldness::

A most happy Natal Day to you Merry! Alas that I won't be at Port Washington this year, so won't be able to dance the night away with you, as we did last year. I raise a toast of Lemoncello in your honor!

I'll keep an eye out for it. Just now getting to Carter's book. Whatever this flu/cold crap is that I have is really nasty, and doesn't want to let go. Feel a bit more human today, but this thing has been dragging on for 8 days now, and I'm getting REALLY tired of it! Patrick, when you get it, you may want to spray Carter's book with a disinfectant before you work on it!

I received Skull Pyrate Carter's book yesterday, and will try to get the artwork done in it by next weekend, so I can forward it on to Patrick. Hey, Rogue Mermaid, I loved the pop-up page! Too kewl!! :angry: And PEW, I just remembered (my heads been clogged with a bad cold all week) that I took pictures of the artwork I did in your last book, and also a picture of the cover of the book. If you would like, I'll e-mail them to you, so at least you'll have some record of what went into your first book. And didn't Patrick post on the Pub the comic he did? (Which was hilarious). Maybe Patrick still has those pictures, or you could pull them from the Pub thread?

Tea and cold drugs Fighting and yelling Male Canadian geese. It's THAT time of year... No one...yet CBIL — who is in the process of moving, so is off-line for awhile.

^ My frock coat. It actually turned out better than I thought, considering I used the cheapie, Jack Sparrow Butterick pattern. Using good linen helped, and I lined it as well. < As for first event, I'm hoping Chain Shot and I can link up with TO7S in June at Villejo (Which means I have to make a coat for Chain Shot between now and then). V Pass the question on.

William, that's a classic! And, Captain dear, at least it's better than being hanged, wouldn't you say?

Feeling like doo doo. Caughing, sore throat, headache. If it weren't for cold drugs, I'd really feel like sh...! Better living through chemicals, I always say!

Africa waited in the common room of the Royal Grace, while the proprietor glared at him from behind a counter. To Africa, the pale, skinny man with watery blue fish-eyes looked like a walking corpse, and he edged further away, not wanting the undead to infect him with some kind of unnatural sickness. Time seemed to crawl, and Africa became more and more nervous. The half-dozen other patrons all glared at him as well, and some rested hands on weapons in a most threatening way. If the rich auntie didn't show up soon, Africa thought, he would leave. From behind him, a female voice blurted out, "Bless me, you are a giant, aren't you?" Africa spun around to find a plump, steely-eyed woman examining him. She was dressed in pale green silk, with a hat on her head that resembled a full fruit basket. "Are you da rich auntie?" he asked. The woman's chin came up. "I beg your pardon?" "I spossed to give this note to the rich auntie. Is dat you?" "Just what is this all about? Speak up man, I don't fancy loitering in a common room all day while you make up your mind." It was the tone of voice that convinced him he had the right woman. "Now I know where da captain get her temper." The plump woman snapped her fan. "Don't be impertinant. Do you have a message for me, or don't you?" Africa dug into his coat pocket and held out the crumpled, folded note, sealed with red wax. "I spossed to give this to you. The ol' man say you would know what to do." The woman snatched the note from his hand, opened it, read it, then gave a great huff. "Good God." Then she turned to Spindlethorpe and snapped, " I'll need two strong lads, something to carry a body on, and my coach to be made ready." Spindlethorpe, somewhat overcome by these vollys of requests, at first did nothing. "Today, Mr. Spindlethorpe," she shouted, "or by God, you'll never see my face — or my money — in this establishment again." Fortunately, the woman didn't see Spindlethorp's split-second hesitation, but Africa did, and grinned. When the lads were assembled, and a cart made ready and padded with blankets, the woman gestured wildly with her fan. "Lead on, Sir Blackamoor. Take me to that troublesome niece of mine at once."

I occasionally bring up this decorating magazine domino that I signed up for for free on Amazon.com because they usually have approximately one interesting thing a month in there (IMO). This month, they had a picture of a chandelier that's just really cool. Of course, there's costs $3000 and won't be released until fall of this year (which is just absurd - usually their products aren't quite this absurdly priced...) However, I may make one, if I can find a place to put it. (It has a tall profile, so it needs to go in a room with a high ceiling). Anyhow, without further ado... From the March 2008 copy of domino, "3 Green Houses." Am I the only one who thinks this looks like a giant black widow spider? All it needs are some beady eyes. Think Shelob from LOTR.

Make room for me on that chair, Red Cat, and pass that box of tissues. I came back with a cold, which politely waited until the day after we got home to make itself known. Sore throat, stuffy nose, etc. As for pictures, well, I took about 800, but haven't downloaded them into my computer yet. When I do, I'll post some. Thanks for the welcome back, Jill. Right now both Chain Shot and myself are in slug mode, trying to come back down from cruise fantasy land. Looks like you had quite the grand sailing adventure yourself. Very kewl!

Just to let everyone know that I'm back from vacation, and have PMed Rogue Mermaid to send off Skull Pyrate Carter's book to me, if she hasn't done so already. I asked her to hang on to it until I got back, as the Post Office was holding all our mail. I can get both Skull Pyrate Carter's and Black Mab's books done by the next rotation. Patrick, I will forward to you the dementions of Carter's book, so you can start on it ahead of time. I'll try to get it done within two to three days after I get it, to make up for the lost time. PEW, I am so sorry to hear about your book. I hope it wasn't your original one with the art from the previous round. That would be devastating. Start a new book, please, and we will all fill it with wonderful artwork. No one should have to miss out because of the mail service. Patrick, you never said that you didn't receive your last book back. What happened to it? Who was the last person it was sent to? That's terrible! There was so much great stuff in it, and the book itself was so kewl. Do we need to keel hawl someone?

So sorry to have missed you birthday, dear Captain, but, as you know, I have been away at sea. Hope your birthday was grand, and you are well after the RF bash, and the long trip home. I lift one in your honor, suh!

A very happy belated Natal Day to you, Billy Bones. Chain Shot and I have been at sea for the last 15 days, so missed your grand day. Hope it was a fine one! Cheers

Still unpacking, and recovering from cruise/jet lag.

"I'm going back." Africa frowned. "I don think dat a good idea. Most likely Dat Man hate you by now." "I don't care." I paced aggitatedly across the poop deck. "Leaving Havana was a mistake. It didn't accomplish anything. None of the Spaniards followed us." Africa's frown turned to a glare. "Is dat why you leave? So we can play at chicken for Spanish foxes, just to save Dat Man and his ship?" "Pretty much," I shot back. "What's the problem?" With big hands fisted on his hips, he leaned in toward me, his brow lowered. "You risk da Rakehell to be taken by Spaniards, an you don think dat a problem for every man on dis boat, mos especialy me?" "Of course not. What Spanish ship could touch the Rakehell? She's a sea hawk, not a chicken. If it gave Jacky some time, then it was worth the risk. But I think the plan failed, so now we go back." "I not goin' back to Havana." I ceased pacing, narrowed my eyes and returned glare for glare. "If I tell you to go back, then we bloody well go back, damn you. However, there's no need for that. We head for St. Jean." "Wot's in St. Jean?" I gave Africa my biggest grin. "The Relentless — and Dat Man." Africa rolled his eyes. "He probably shoot you on sight, he so mad." I grinned wider. "Oh, I'm counting on it. But then he'll feel bad about it, we'll make up, and everthing will be fine. With luck, he'll only wing me." Africa gave a groan and walked away, but within ten minutes the Rakehell had changed course and was heading for Port St. Jean.

Aye, James my lad, a very happy birthday to you, indeed. And ladies, this mate can make a mean rum pound cake all on his own, with homemade caramel sauce. I know, for last year he sent me home with some after an event. Killer!!!!! The very best to you, suh, from both Chain Shot and myself!

Eye's BBB went out to Patrick on Friday.

Yes, JT is a darlin', to be sure. The very best of good wishes on your birthday, luv. Hope it is a grand day all round. Champagne kisses

The Paddy West School of Seamanship CD by the Seadogs Great house-cleaning music!

String along

Yeah, and if you did recognize him, gave him a little wink and nod, but didn't give it away so as to respect his privacy and the joke, then you'd go back to tell your friends you saw Jack Sparrow and they'd all roll their eyes and say, "Right, which one? There's ten of them wandering around." "No, no, I saw the real one." "The real one wearing the red polyester frock coat and fright wig on his chin, or the one wearing the green coat, pleather belt and dollar-store sword, or the ten year old boy who has the walk down cold?" "No, the real one. Jonny Depp's Jack Sparrow." By this time they are all walking away shaking their heads, mumbling, "Now we know why the rum's gone."

Africa was more than happy to be at sea again. Being in Havana Harbor and hearing Spanish being spoken everywhere he turned, had brought back foul memories of four years of slavery. Four years rowing in the belly of a Spanish galley, watching men he'd known since childhood die, their bodies thrown overboard without even a shroud, or a word at thier passing. Some of his friends had been sold to work the sugar plantations, others sent to various slave markets. But he had survived, until their ship was taken by the Rakehell and he'd been set free. And the person who had released him from that living hell was not so very happy to be back at sea again, and her attitude was beginning to annoy him. She stood at the rail, looking back the way they had come, her red hair flying in the stiff breeze which carried the Rakehell closer to colonies. "How long you goin' to mope after Dat Man?" She whirled around, her blue eyes blazing. "As long as I damned well please!" Africa decided to give it another day or two before asking that question again.