"...I was the seventh son of a seventh son." There's a story in that. (I am a third-generation Transylvanian, by the way, if anybody's keeping score. And second-generation Swedish and Ukrainian and Irish, with some Scottish, German, Cherokee, Pennsylvania Dutch and English thrown in to round things out. I like to tell people my ancestors raped and murdered my ancestors.)
I'm having Richard Thompson synchronicity today.
1,014 words on Scardown: two short scenes and the mock-T'ang-dynasty poem that will end the book. Reason for stopping: Time to cook dinner. More later tonight while the boys watch Enterprise and Angel.