Phew! Bill Yards finally fixed his time machine, and we returned to the present in Wampler, Wisconsin. Well, actually we returned about ten minutes before we left which gives me a chance to write here very briefly before our New Year's Eve celebration. (Bill got safely back to England. Or at least back. He just broadcast a message on his ham radio saying something about the Battle of Hastings.)
Unfortunately I returned to find all sorts of trouble. It seems my author must have a wisdom tooth extracted (a great shame, in my opinion, since she can't afford to lose much wisdom), and she's quite cranky about it. As you can imagine, there's nothing worse for a character than to have a cranky author.
I offered her a ride on Bill's time machine since it's best to take out wisdom teeth before you're 30 - and she's 67 if she's a day. But somehow that suggestion didn't improve her mood at all. So I told her I'd invent a tooth extraction method that would leave behind the wisdom. What she responded to that, I'm not even allowed to print here.
Maybe I should have gone to the Battle of Hastings instead.
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