"Eventus stultorum magister."

I don't know what happened a month ago, but the traffic getting to my station has become horrible.  I will be doing some math this morning to determine if it's time to switch to the further away station in the opposite commuting direction.  I've lost nearly an hour a day in extra traffic and it isn't productive time.  It's fossil fuel burning time.

Not everything is bad though.  The kids are enjoying another day off from school and I'm making wonderful progress on the new script.  I'm starting to get the hang of Power Structure and it's a remarkable tool.  A little buggy, but still very good.  Sort of like the early days of Movie Magic Screenwriter (their other application).  Sort of like every day with Windows...

I haven't heard back on any of my short story submissions.  That means I need extra motivation to send any more out.  It also means I need to write more if I want more to send out since the good ones are all still in play.  While we wait, let's check out what happened on this day in the history of Washington Orville Hampton.

March 5, 1891 -- Somewhere in North Dakota

The train is snowed in so we are stuck here for the night and, according to the station manager, quite possibly the next two or three days.  Fortunately I had foreseen this possibility when we were 15 minutes late in departing and both the engineer and conductor where walking the platform.

I accosted the steward and he advised that we would be delayed at least a couple of hours.  Having ridden in several rodeos, I knew that was code for track trouble.  I promptly sent him into town to arrange lodging for me at the most reputable home with space.

He returned an hour later with a room in the only boarding house.  Shortly after we received news of the extended delay.  While I was gathering my bags I happened across a third class passenger, a Miss Patience McSworely, traveling with three small children.  They belonged to her sister and she was transporting them to San Francisco along with several trunks of household goods.

Miss McSworely did not have the traveling acumen that a woman alone with children should and had not made any attempt to find rooms or even food for her charges.  They were to be stuck in the carriage indefinitely with a tin of biscuits and whatever water they could chip from the ice in the barrel behind the station.

Naturally there was nothing for it but to offer up my room.  She was most grateful and while I had been looking forward to hot stew and a warm bed, being as small in stature as I am, the Pullman will be perfectly comfortable.  I've plenty of blankets and company, most of my single traveling companions remained with the train.