everyone here knows that already

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I want to be done with this novel so badly that I keep rushing the pace accidentally. This is bad. Slowing myself down = in some ways, pacing the writing of it out. So this is going to be good for tonight. I have... some time, at least, to take with this.

In the archives, I got into 1907. I am going to rather miss this job--okay, it can get a little tedious, just cartoon after cartoon after cartoon, but I won't get the tidbits of history. Particularly Minnesotan history, like "Fish" Jones who started a fish stall in the downtown Minneapolis market.

He bought a front-page ad in the paper, a picture of him with oysters for wings. With the money he made from the fish business, he bought some animals--a tiger, I think, and a camel and a bear, and some other things--and started a zoo. When the neighbors complained, he sold the land (they built Basilica cathedral where I had some high school choir concerts, this grand huge thing with lovely acoustics, on the spot) and moved out to Minnehaha Creek and built a sort-of mansion there to keep all his animals.

You can't make this stuff up. Or, well, you could, but no one would believe it.