Ronald McDonald has quite an assortment of friends.

Advantages to city life: Every now and then, you absolutely need a moment’s rest. There’s no getting around it. And on rare occasion, the city will offer you a stool. Go on, take a moment, rest your weary feet. There is time for a breath or two before you hit the streets again.

(Note: I do not live in a city, and am over 1,000 miles from this particular stool.)

Not just Jazz. Barbecue Jazz!

Oh, and DarkFluidity returns with a live event on 23 September!

Tracks.

An expert can follow these tracks to the source.

A true expert can determine the destination of these tracks based on the slightest, subtlest of clues, and then take another route to cut these great iron beasts off at the pass.

Do you still call it an Iron Horse?

Is it wild? Untamed? Can it be broken, and bent to your will?

Hey, it’s your life, and the paths you follow are your own. You don’t have to let someone who died before you were born (and designed said tracks) determine where you can go. Blaze your own path. Move in your own directions. Either break the Iron Horse to your will, or find another beast more suited to your temperament.

Or perhaps I should re-name it Trump Globe?

Consider yourself warned.

I’ve started running.  We’ll see how long I continue.  Short bits, as yet.  I never had much stamina for running.  It’s all part of the effort to transform into a better version of me.

I suspect you’ll like the better version of me.

The running, short as it might be (and growing each time), is meant to replace racquetball on the days I have no one to play, or when rain makes it impossible to use the outdoor courts.  (I play on the inside court only when the guy whose apartments has one is able to play; and once or twice without him, as no one else in that gym seems to notice I’m not from there.)

I’ve added the running to try to break through the plateau I’ve reached in weight loss.

In other self-improvement news, I’m also improving my wardrobe, evidenced by a few new shirts the past week and a trip to the tailor to take care of my pants; I cooked scallops and andouille sausage and mushrooms last night, with rice, and while maybe not the healthiest meal certainly all the ingredients were fresh; and I’ve subscribed to GQ magazine, because there’s too much I don’t know.  For instance, when do you wear suspenders?  {grin}

A disruption (a necessary and welcome disruption, but a disruption nonetheless) caused me to leave DarkWalker II for a moment. Other priorities.  (The first DarkWalker, if you must know.)  But the first has been delivered to the publisher, and now I’m again working full-steam on the second.

The first draft will probably take me the rest of this coming week.  Perhaps.  Next weekend is a three-day weekend, and I’ll begin the next project.  It’s unnamed, as yet.  I’m referring to it as Armando Luis Salazar, as that’s the name of the short story upon which it’s based.  The story was part of my 30 in 30 project, 1 short story a day during the month of April. You can still read it here.  As the title of the short, I thought it was perfect; if you read it, you’ll see why.  But it won’t work as the novel title.

In non-writing news, the sun only pretended to rise today, hiding behind a blanket of unbroken gray.  It’s Florida, so rain and thundershowers are inevitable today, and the gray is a nice break from having the unrelenting sun set at broil.

None of this has anything to do with today’s photo.