For the second time now, I've started playing Puzzle Pirates and given up after a week.

I really, really wanted to get into the game this time. I love the design and overall feel of the game, I can play puzzle games for hours on end, and they even came up with a clever payment scheme for people like me who are scared of subscriptions. They've added a few more puzzles and parlor games since last year, too, but it still only took a week before I got so bored doing the same things over and over that I couldn't concentrate on them any more. The payment scheme actually backfires here, since it lets you translate game money into real money; an hour of pillaging might yield 2000 pieces of eight, which is roughly equivalent to 2 doubloons, which costs about 50 cents. Fifty cents versus an hour of increasingly tedious puzzling? It's sure tempting to just pay your way through the game.

Finally, I hit the same wall as last time: I just don't enjoy interacting with strangers very much. The next step in the game is to join up with crews and climb the promotion ladder until you're captaining your own ships and pursuing higher-level goals in the game, like moving cargo, running shops, and ultimately taking over islands. All of that requires a lot of people-wrangling, which sounds more like work to me than fun.

I'm proud to be able to continue the family tradition of skiing on Thanksgiving. Due to some lucky weather, Meadows had a rare early start this year and offered $26 tickets last week. It was sunny all week, so the snow was predictably horrible, but hey, it's tradition. I was really surprised how easily everything came back—the first run was shaky, but after that it was like I'd been skiing all summer.

My one nasty spill was a new maneuver for me: I managed to land my throat, just under my chin, right on the top of my pole. So hard it bent the pole 90 degrees. I've hit my voicebox so hard before I couldn't talk for days, and I'd probably be missing a tooth or three if I'd been a few inches north. But I've just got a bit of a sore throat—pretty lucky there. What was surprising to me, though, is how calm I was through the whole thing, just picked myself up and checked the damage. Yes, I'm conscious, and it looks like I'll stay that way. Yes, I can breathe. No, I don't seem to be bleeding uncontrollably and nothing seems to be broken. Alright, then. I don't think I could have done that a few years ago.

If you're working on a gladiator flick please don't use the clumsy phrase "we who are about to die" for the Latin nos morituri. Six words for two? It's unwieldy and sounds obtuse. Much better: "we the condemned".

You're welcome!

(Also, if you noticed that I padded out that text with three words that mean exactly the same thing—well, that's why you're the writer, not me.)

Been spending my free time playing Puzzle Pirates so not much to report. I'm just about sick of doing the same puzzles over and over again.

I dare say, I believe I am the front-runner in our office Mustache Contest. In just a few days again, I get to shave this horrid blight off my face. And not a day too soon..

Oh, also: I got an email from the Lady Washington folks today. Sounds like we just have to figure out the schedule, and I'm on my way!

My new old Rolleiflex Automat showed up last week, straight from some eBay seller's aunt's attic where it has spent the last 40 years. Cleaned off the layers of dust and the gunk off the lenses, and it looks pretty good. I finally got two rolls of film through it this weekend so I could develop. Here's my favorites:





The most obvious difference from the Yashica is the depth of field—the blurring on the Yashica has a weird radial blur effect when the aperture is wide, but this lens is a lot more even. It seems like it might be a touch clearer, but that could be as much from the rangefinder as the optics. I'm curious if the negatives actually are sharper than the scanner can read.. Also, I'll try developing with half concentration twice as long next time: I've read that improves acutance.

I finally got in my application for crewing on the Lady Washington, a Tall Ship that sails up and down the Pacific coast. I first read about the Barque Picton Castle and immediately decided to quit my job, cash out my retirement, and spend a year sailing around the world. After that, I'd live in a hermit shack in the Caribbean—or South Pacific, take your pick. (Luckily, Molly didn't take it personally when I blurted out, "I wish I was a rich bachelor.") When the coffee wore off and some shreds of sense found their way back into my brain, I started looking for something a bit more reasonable. A day of Googling, and I found the Lady Washington.

I know I should wait until I hear back from them before writing about it here, but how could I jinx this? Signs point to yes already: the day after I dropped the envelope in the mail, the web site announced that they've purchased another ship and need more crew now. (Ship? They say Lady Washington isn't a ship—are you supposed to say brig, not ship? They purchased a square topsail ketch. Or maybe "Tall Ship" is okay.)

Anyway, sailing, no, I've never sailed before. But it seems to be a lot like taking a long road trip, and I'm really good at doing nothing but watching the landscape go by for days on end. In the spring they'll be sailing up the Columbia; when we drove up the gorge with Judy I realized how amazing that trip would be. But I'll take anything they want to give me.

And some day, I'll sail around the world.