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essentialsaltesSpent some time with Rebecca trimming the cypresses, if you know what I mean, wink-wink nudge-nudge. By cypresses, I mean the Italian cypresses (Cupressus sempervirens) in the backyard and by trimming, I mean using hedge trimmers and shears to slice off the unsightly or floppy branches. Filled the greenwaste can before we ran out of cypresses, though the remaining one is a cypress of unusual size. Even with a ladder, one can only reach about halfway up it at best.
Right now I'm taking a break from my new computer chores, which I promised myself I would do (the chores that is, not the break-taking). I've been ripping CD's and converting OS9 Wordperfect files into RTF for posterity. I thought we probably didn't have that many CD's outside of the 200CD changer. Boy, was I wrong. More and more keep appearing. I've almost doubled the number of songs I've got in iTunes, and I'm not done yet. Being the morose sort of person I am, the total playtime that iTunes gives your library is getting large enough that inevitably I think to myself: "There will come a moment in time when I will have less time left to live than I have mp3's to listen to."
As for the word processing files, I've just gone through a huge batch of role-playing stuff, including all of the ornate Victorian mash-notes that I wrote to virtually every female character in the Castle Falkenstein campaign. Just for the hell of it, I present the where-are-they-now widget I wrote at the end of the campaign:
Cosmo Webrin, Baron of Drnicza, travels to his new baronial manor, as soon as a safe passage can be achieved. After setting things in some semblance of order, he speeds back to Munich, where his betrothal to Miss Estelle Greeley is announced to the general delight of society. The story of how he managed to introduce an engagement ring into an abalone served to his beloved fires the romantic imagination of Bavaria, leading to the lamentable, but inevitable, rash of imitative proposals. The couple are prominently featured at the coronation of King Odo of Hyperborea, at which ceremony the first Webrin Medal of Honor is awarded to Indigo Montoya, Baroness von Riedenburg, known to the peasantry of Hyperborea as “The Mother of the Revolution”.
The wedding is scheduled for the summer, so as not to interfere with Miss Greeley’s continued studies at the Universität. The extended, and sometimes tempestuous, engagement provides ample grist for the society pages of the Munich newspapers; however, as Cosmo and Estelle learn each other’s secrets, they come to love each other all the more. The wedding is an extravagant affair -- the celebration of Romantic Love melts the heart of even the stoniest Steam Lord.
The most notable of Cosmo’s Extraordinary musical compositions is his first opera, Die Lorelei (libretto by Jean-Vincent Renault). At the inaugural performance, Wagner weeps openly throughout the final act.
Unfortunately, after the first year or two of marriage, Cosmo appears to be unable to alter his moral character. His discreet infidelities are temporarily cured by an unexpected visit by a Ray-shaped member of Estelle’s extended family, who breaks Cosmo’s left shin with his bare hands (having determined that Cosmo uses his right foot to work the pedals of his piano).
A more permanent cure is effected by an assassin’s bullet at the premiere of Cosmo’s solo piano suite at the Königstheater. Among the audience are Austrian officials, von Amberg-Kelheims, jealous husbands and jilted ladies. The bullet enters his left temple, destroying the faculty of speech and rendering him paralyzed on the right side of his body. In his last few moments of life, as his lifeblood pours from his ravaged skull onto the piano keys, Cosmo taps out an odd sequence of notes six or seven times with his left hand, offering a clue as to the identity of his murderer. However, as the audience was competely filled with people with Poor Artistry Skill, the murderer remains unknown.
The Baroness takes to wandering the halls of the manor house dressed in black. Six months later, Cosmo’s posthumous heir, Hans, is spitted on the end of an Austrian bayonet, when the Empire finally manages to consign the words “Free Hyperborea” to obscure footnotes in texts on European political history. Knowing her connections to the American King, er President, the Austrians leave the widow in her home, which becomes more and more romantically Gothic as the decades pass. Irretrievably insane, she spends her time listening to Cosmo’s music on the Orchestriphon (an invention of Lady Door’s and the late Baron’s). Particularly, she listens to the Venus movement of Cosmo’s Harmony of the Spheres, dedicated “To Her Eyes”.
People say that on chill autumn nights, you can still hear that music echoing among the grounds of the abandoned manor house, as a beautiful figure in widow’s weeds silently stalks the ruins.
Right now I'm taking a break from my new computer chores, which I promised myself I would do (the chores that is, not the break-taking). I've been ripping CD's and converting OS9 Wordperfect files into RTF for posterity. I thought we probably didn't have that many CD's outside of the 200CD changer. Boy, was I wrong. More and more keep appearing. I've almost doubled the number of songs I've got in iTunes, and I'm not done yet. Being the morose sort of person I am, the total playtime that iTunes gives your library is getting large enough that inevitably I think to myself: "There will come a moment in time when I will have less time left to live than I have mp3's to listen to."
As for the word processing files, I've just gone through a huge batch of role-playing stuff, including all of the ornate Victorian mash-notes that I wrote to virtually every female character in the Castle Falkenstein campaign. Just for the hell of it, I present the where-are-they-now widget I wrote at the end of the campaign:
Cosmo Webrin, Baron of Drnicza, travels to his new baronial manor, as soon as a safe passage can be achieved. After setting things in some semblance of order, he speeds back to Munich, where his betrothal to Miss Estelle Greeley is announced to the general delight of society. The story of how he managed to introduce an engagement ring into an abalone served to his beloved fires the romantic imagination of Bavaria, leading to the lamentable, but inevitable, rash of imitative proposals. The couple are prominently featured at the coronation of King Odo of Hyperborea, at which ceremony the first Webrin Medal of Honor is awarded to Indigo Montoya, Baroness von Riedenburg, known to the peasantry of Hyperborea as “The Mother of the Revolution”.
The wedding is scheduled for the summer, so as not to interfere with Miss Greeley’s continued studies at the Universität. The extended, and sometimes tempestuous, engagement provides ample grist for the society pages of the Munich newspapers; however, as Cosmo and Estelle learn each other’s secrets, they come to love each other all the more. The wedding is an extravagant affair -- the celebration of Romantic Love melts the heart of even the stoniest Steam Lord.
The most notable of Cosmo’s Extraordinary musical compositions is his first opera, Die Lorelei (libretto by Jean-Vincent Renault). At the inaugural performance, Wagner weeps openly throughout the final act.
Unfortunately, after the first year or two of marriage, Cosmo appears to be unable to alter his moral character. His discreet infidelities are temporarily cured by an unexpected visit by a Ray-shaped member of Estelle’s extended family, who breaks Cosmo’s left shin with his bare hands (having determined that Cosmo uses his right foot to work the pedals of his piano).
A more permanent cure is effected by an assassin’s bullet at the premiere of Cosmo’s solo piano suite at the Königstheater. Among the audience are Austrian officials, von Amberg-Kelheims, jealous husbands and jilted ladies. The bullet enters his left temple, destroying the faculty of speech and rendering him paralyzed on the right side of his body. In his last few moments of life, as his lifeblood pours from his ravaged skull onto the piano keys, Cosmo taps out an odd sequence of notes six or seven times with his left hand, offering a clue as to the identity of his murderer. However, as the audience was competely filled with people with Poor Artistry Skill, the murderer remains unknown.
The Baroness takes to wandering the halls of the manor house dressed in black. Six months later, Cosmo’s posthumous heir, Hans, is spitted on the end of an Austrian bayonet, when the Empire finally manages to consign the words “Free Hyperborea” to obscure footnotes in texts on European political history. Knowing her connections to the American King, er President, the Austrians leave the widow in her home, which becomes more and more romantically Gothic as the decades pass. Irretrievably insane, she spends her time listening to Cosmo’s music on the Orchestriphon (an invention of Lady Door’s and the late Baron’s). Particularly, she listens to the Venus movement of Cosmo’s Harmony of the Spheres, dedicated “To Her Eyes”.
People say that on chill autumn nights, you can still hear that music echoing among the grounds of the abandoned manor house, as a beautiful figure in widow’s weeds silently stalks the ruins.
